Second Chance

A man was cautiously walking down a bright, white hallway quickly, glancing side to side. He had black hair, with green eyes, a muscular build, and crooked nose, like it had been broken long ago. In front of him the hallway broke off into two directions. Each of them looked exactly the same. A door every five meters and pristine white walls.

"Which way?" I muttered.

"Left," replied a voice in his ear.

Without another thought he slowly started making his way down the left hallway. He had yet to run into anybody in the 20 minutes since breaking into the compound, but there wasn't any guarantee that everyone was gone. His heart pounded as he silently crept through the hallway.

He reached another split in the hallway identical to the previous one.

"Right," said the voice this time, without any prompting.

The man obeyed, walking down the eerily quiet hall while his heart did its best to break out of my rib cage. The white walls and glaring lights made everything feel exposed and open. There was nowhere for him to hide if someone came.

"Careful now. The lab we're looking for is right around the next corner. I wouldn't be surprised if there's a guard standing by it."

For a third time, he reached a split in the hallway, but this time he crept up to the corner and took out a tiny drone. The drone, designed to look like a mosquito, actually was a high tech camera, allowing the man to see everything. He made the drone fly around the corner and take a look what he was going to be dealing with. At the end of the hallway was a steel door with a computer hooked up to it, but no guard.

That's odd, he thought, shouldn't there be tighter security on this thing? They had been sent to this lab because one of their spies indicated that something significant was being built that would establish the current tyrant of the world even further.

He had the drone turn around in order to make sure there was no one on the other side of the hallway before deciding that it was safe.

Upon approaching the door he noticed a scanner next to it as well. Having been prepared for this he took out an ID card another rebel had swiped earlier and held it up to the scanner. Immediately, the computer let out a beep and asked for a password.

"Alright, this one's up to you, Damian," the man whispered as he stuck what looked like a small magnet to the computer.

"Just give me a few seconds", the voice answered.

Characters started to fly by on the screen in front of the man as Damian worked his magic on the system. While he broke through the security I turned and kept an eye on the hall behind me.

Just like every other hall on the way here it was stark white with doors at regular intervals throughout. About 50 meters down the hall broke off again. Attached to the ceiling above me and throughout the hallway were cameras which Damian had disabled beforehand. As the seconds ticked by his heart beat faster and faster, and with it, a growing suspicion.

Where are all the guards? This place is supposed to be top secret, I should've run into somebody by now, he thought.

Keeping his eyes down the hallway he tried voicing these concerns to Damian, "Where is everyone? Shouldn't there be some guards in this place?"

"What do you mean?" Damian asked.

"This place holds some sort of ground breaking new tech specifically designed for the Caesar and there are no guards? There's no way we're that lucky."

"So what do you suggest we do? Leave? Oliver, we've spent the last four months planning for this, we can't just back out because it's going even better than we hoped for. Besides, I'm in," Damian quickly added. The steel door, instead of swinging open actually slid to the side to allow Oliver entry. Inside was dark, the only light coming from the hallway and a few dimmed light strips on the walls.

Knowing that this laboratory held some sort of new technology, Oliver expected it to be filled with various desks, computers, and some sort of experimental area. Contrary to those expectations the room was almost completely empty aside from a single desk and computer attached to the wall on the opposite side of the room.

Still slightly anxious, Oliver took one last look at the hallway over his shoulder, "Someone should be here. This is wrong."

"Oliver, our target is literally right in front of you. Hurry up before someone actually does come along," Damian said in a rising pitch.

"Fine." Oliver reluctantly agreed.

Throwing aside his doubt Oliver quickly walked over to the computer and put another small magnetic device on it. However, the moment he touched the computer the floor dropped out from under him, causing him to fall ten feet into the room below.

Although caught off guard, Oliver's quick reflexes allowed him to land on his feet. Or, at least, he attempted to. At the moment he landed his ankle snapped to the side, bringing searing pain with it.

"Agh!" Oliver exclaimed. Gritting his teeth, he managed to just barely whisper, "Damian? Are you there?" No response.

Alright, he thought, analyze the situation. I've just fallen into a trap. It's a circular room with light coming from a circle in the floor, the ceiling, and the walls. No exits. The hole I fell through is gone. My ankle is probably broken, or else, seriously sprained. My communication has been cut off. That either means this room has some seriously thick walls or it's being jammed on purpose. More likely the latter. They know I'm here, in the middle of their trap. I have to get out now or I'll be caught. There has to be a door here somewhere. Time to go. I can do this.

Oliver stood up, winced in pain, took a limping step forward, and immediately rammed his face into an invisible wall. "Agh!" He exclaimed a second time. Wasting no time, he quickly tried other directions and was blocked each time by a mysterious force. Ok, new problem, he thought, fighting down panic. That's fine, maybe I can force it down if I hit it hard enough. It's going to be ok. I can still do this. Come on Oliver, you didn't survive for 22 years in the pits just to die here.

Unfortunately, for Oliver, at that very moment a section of the wall started sliding into the room and to the side to allow for a man to enter. Oliver paled, and examined the man walking in only for his eyes to widen in shock. The man was about six feet tall, with dark hair, a fast gait, and green eyes that seemed like they were simultaneously charming and deadly.

It was the Caesar himself. The ruler of the entire world.

In his shell-shocked state all Oliver could do was stare at him with his mouth hanging open. The Caesar couldn't be here; he was in London just two hours ago, making a speech to the public, and they were in Virginia. Not only that, but why would the Caesar himself be here, at some research facility in the middle of the night? And most of all, why would he be the one coming to catch a single spy that was already trapped by some sort of force field? All these things ran through Oliver's mind as he simply stared at the Caesar, hoping to make sense of it all.

For his part, the Caesar simply observed Oliver quietly, seemingly sizing him up in his head. Smiling slightly, he broke the silence. "You might want to close your mouth; something might fly in."

Snapping his mouth shut, Oliver came back to his senses. I'm a walking dead man. There's no way the Caesar is defenseless. I can't get out. But he's in here alone. Maybe I can kill him first. It was a nonsensical thought. The Caesar had lived for nearly 400 years, somehow never aging. He had ruled this world with an iron fist for centuries. With more assassination attempts than anyone else in history he had somehow survived them all. But the prospect excited like never before and sent adrenaline surging through his body.

If I can somehow get him to lower his guard, maybe I can get a shot off before I get handcuffed, he schemed. With this in mind he decided to strike up a conversation.

Giving Caesar a smile back he began, "I think I'd like to try this whole thing over again, that last part was way too unfair."

Seemingly happy that his captive was so cheerful the Caesar's smile widened and he asked, "Which part? The hole in the floor or the force field?"

"The force field. At least let a man know before he rams his face into a wall."

Chuckling, Caesar replied, "Ah, but that was the best part. And besides, I can't be having you leave that spot."

Slightly confused at this last remark, Oliver decided to question him. "What do you mean? Won't you be taking me in for interrogation?"

At this, Caesar let out a full laugh. "Hahahaha, interrogating? Why? I know you work with a small rebellious faction which has taken to calling themselves the Vipers—you joined them when you were 17—you've been casing this place for the last four months, and, with the help of your friend Damian outside, you've finally broken into my laboratory tonight. I know everything about you Oliver. I don't need to interrogate you."

"Wh-what? How do-" Oliver started.

Waving his hand as if to shoo a fly Caesar interrupted, "I've ruled for 340 years, how many rebel groups do you think I've had to squash? You're far from the first, you won't be the last, and you're certainly not the most troublesome."

"But how-" Oliver tried again.

"Do I know so much? It's quite simple really. Your spy is actually my spy. I had him arrange all this so that I could have you come here tonight."

"Why would-" Oliver attempted.

"I do that? Why not simply destroy your little faction now? Why lure a single member of your group here?" The Caesar started circling Oliver so that he had to turn to face him. On his face was a predatory smile as he boasted of his plans. Curiously, the lights all around the room were starting to get brighter.

"I'll answer that with a question of my own," the Caesar said. "How do you think I've lived this long?"

His interest piqued, Oliver answered, "No one knows. Some think that you found an elixir of life. Others think that you've somehow managed to continually replace your dying organs with healthy ones. I don't know, maybe you just found the secret to long life. My personal favorite is that you're some sort of vampire, sucking out the life of those under your foot."

"All fair guesses," Caesar replied, "but in actuality your last guess is closest. In simplified terms, I steal their life and health. Or perhaps it would be better to say I trade mine with theirs. An old man, for one in his prime. Right here in fact. This room is where I do it."

Suddenly Oliver could feel his heart rate triple, as cold sweat ran down his back. He noticed the light getting even brighter. "So you're going to take my health from me?"

Caesar stared back with his predatory grin for several seconds before turning away. "No. Not today. Today, I gain another kind of power."

"What?" Oliver asked in confusion, his voice slightly trembling.

"I have already gain immortality. I have power over the nations. The old Romans used to believe this meant that the Caesar was blessed by the gods." A crazed look came on his face. "It's why I named myself Caesar in the first place. But I want more than that. I want the power of the gods. And once I have the power of the gods, I will become one. Today, I become a god."

"And how are you going to do that?" Oliver asked.

"By killing you of course," Caesar responded nonchalantly. And he stopped his circling to stare at Oliver again, pulling out a gun.

Silence.

The light was reaching the point that it nearly blinded Oliver.

Oliver stared back at Caesar as he came to terms with the reality in front of him. "How? How does killing me bring you power?"

After contemplating for a few seconds Caesar replied, "As one dying, I don't particularly feel the need to explain to you. All you need to do is die. Die with honor. Die knowing that your very death brings about a new god."

As Oliver heard these words his anger slower began to overcome his fear, as he stared at the man responsible for millions of deaths. The man who caused famine and war. The man who did not care for those who died in droves for lack of food or shelter. The man who now was using him as a stepping stone for more power. I have to kill him, he thought. The force field has to come down for him to shoot me. If I shoot at the same time I can kill him.

Reaching for his gun, Oliver tried to distract him. "You're not a god," he whispered.

"Not yet."

The force field came down and the Caesar shot Oliver in the heart. But at that same time, Oliver had managed to get his gun out and shoot Caesar as well.

It was extreme pain as Oliver had never felt it before in his life. His heart was on fire but his body felt as cold as ice. He dropped to his knees, and looked over, to see blood blossoming over the Caesar's shirt. He smiled in satisfaction. He had done what no one in 400 years had managed to do. He hadn't done what he originally came here to do, but he had done exactly what every rebel had ever wanted. He had killed the tyrant king. It was ok. He could die now.

Yet, in that moment, the Caesar looked at Oliver as well. And he too, smiled.

And then the light washed over them both. And they were gone.