The room exploded.
Not with fire, but with sound. The delicate strains of Vivaldi were shredded by the roar of plasma engines and grinding metal.
"Defend!" Marcus screamed.
The Gladiator facing him—Praetorian One—lunged. Its trident hummed with blue lightning.
Marcus raised his energy shield.
CRACK.
The impact was like being hit by a train. His shield flared purple, then cracked. The force drove him back five feet, his boots tearing furrows in the plush carpet.
"Flank it!" Marcus yelled.
Marcia was already moving. She slid across the polished floor, firing her railgun from the hip.
THWUMP. THWUMP.
Kinetic slugs sparked off the Gladiator's golden chest plate. The armor held. Ceramic composite.
"It's too thick!" Marcia shouted, rolling behind a marble pillar.
Praetorian One ignored her. It focused on Marcus. It spun its trident, a blur of deadly light.
It thrust again.
Marcus parried. His vibro-gladius sparked against the plasma shaft.
"You're fast," Marcus gritted his teeth. "But you're heavy."
He ducked under a swing that would have taken his head off. He slashed at the knee joint.
The blade bit deep. Hydraulic fluid sprayed.
The Gladiator stumbled, but didn't fall. It backhanded Marcus with its shield.
BAM.
Marcus flew across the room. He crashed into Titus's desk.
Teacups shattered. Hot liquid splashed his armor.
General Titus didn't flinch. He sat in his wheelchair, watching the violence like a man watching opera.
"Sloppy," Titus murmured. "Too much passion. Not enough geometry."
Across the room, Narcissus was fighting a losing war.
Praetorian Two was bigger. Heavier.
Narcissus caught the trident with his bare hands. Plasma burned his palms. Smoke rose from his grip.
"I... am... stronger!" Narcissus roared.
He wasn't.
His damaged leg—the one leaking oil since the tunnel—buckled.
The Praetorian drove him back. It slammed its shield into Narcissus's face.
CLANG.
Narcissus fell. His head hit the floor, cracking the marble tiles.
The Praetorian raised its trident for the killing blow.
"NARCISSUS!" Marcus screamed.
He couldn't reach him. Praetorian One was blocking the path.
Narcissus looked up. His optical lens was shattered. He saw the trident coming down.
He didn't try to block.
He lunged forward.
From his knees, he launched himself head-first into the Praetorian's chest.
A literal headbutt.
CRUNCH.
Titanium skull met ceramic armor.
The Praetorian staggered back. Its balance gyros whined.
Narcissus grabbed its leg. He didn't pull. He twisted.
With a scream of tearing metal, he ripped the knee joint sideways.
The Praetorian fell.
Narcissus crawled on top of it. He began to punch.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
Each blow dented the golden helmet.
"Die!" Narcissus roared. "Die! Die!"
Oil and sparks flew. The Praetorian stopped moving.
But Praetorian One was still standing.
It charged Marcus again.
"Marcia! The neck!" Marcus yelled.
He dropped his shield. He switched to a two-handed grip on his sword.
He didn't retreat. He sprinted at the giant.
The trident came down.
Marcus slid.
He went baseball-slide style between the Gladiator's legs.
He thrust upward.
The vibro-blade punched through the groin plating. Up into the chassis.
The Gladiator froze. Its systems shorted.
"Now!"
Marcia stepped out from behind the pillar.
She leveled the railgun at the Gladiator's exposed neck seal.
BOOM.
The slug hit the vulnerable joint.
The head flew off. It bounced across the carpet, rolling to a stop at Titus's feet.
The body collapsed. A pile of expensive scrap.
Silence returned to the room.
Just the heavy breathing of the victors and the faint scratch of the record player, which was miraculously still spinning.
Marcus stood up. He wiped oil from his face.
He walked toward the desk.
General Titus looked at the severed head by his wheel.
"Well played," Titus said softly. "Messy. But effective."
Marcus stopped in front of him. He raised his sword. The tip hovered an inch from Titus's throat.
"It's over," Marcus said. "Call off the wall. Shut down the turrets."
Titus sipped his tea. It was lukewarm now.
"I can't," Titus said. "The defenses are hardwired to my biometrics. A Dead Man's Switch."
"What does that mean?"
"It means," Titus smiled, "that as long as my heart beats, the wall stands. The moment it stops... the system resets. The guns go offline. The doors open."
He looked up at Marcus. His eyes were milky with cataracts.
"You have to kill me, Caesar. To save your people."
Marcus hesitated.
Killing a monster was easy. Killing a machine was work.
Killing an old man in a wheelchair... that felt like murder.
"There has to be another way," Marcus said. "Codes. Override."
"There isn't," Titus said. "Vane designed it this way. He knew you would hesitate. He knew you were... sentimental."
Titus put the teacup down.
"Do it," the old man whispered. "My replacement is already en route. You are killing a soldier, not a man."
"Who is your replacement?" Marcus asked.
"Nero," Titus said. "He burns things. I just build walls."
He closed his eyes.
"I am tired, Marcus. The cold... it gets into the bones."
Marcus looked at Marcia. She nodded grimly.
He looked at Narcissus. The giant was sitting on the corpse of his enemy, leaking fluid, watching.
Marcus gripped his sword.
"For the Legion," Marcus whispered.
He thrust.
It was quick. Clean. Through the heart.
Titus gasped once. His head fell forward.
The teacup didn't even fall.
[TARGET ELIMINATED: GENERAL TITUS.]
[XP GAINED: 50,000.]
[LEVEL UP.]
The room went dark.
Red emergency lights pulsed.
[SYSTEM ALERT: COMMAND SIGNAL LOST.]
[INITIATING DEFENSE RESET.]
[TURRETS: OFFLINE.]
[GATE: OPEN.]
"The wall is down," Marcia breathed.
"We did it," Marcus said. He pulled his sword free. He wiped the blood on the carpet.
"Team Beta!" Marcus keyed his radio. "Status!"
Static. Then Decimus's voice. Breathless.
"We found a train! A pristine maglev in the upper depot! We are boarding now!"
"Is the track clear?"
"The turrets just went dark! The gate is opening! We have a green light!"
"Hold the train!" Marcus yelled. "We're coming!"
He looked at Narcissus.
"Can you walk?"
The giant stood up. His leg was mangled. He leaned heavily against the wall.
"I can limp," Narcissus said.
"Then let's go."
They ran back to the elevator shaft.
The elevator was destroyed.
"Ladder!" Marcus pointed to the service rungs on the wall.
They climbed. Five floors up.
Narcissus hauled himself up one-handed, his damaged leg dragging.
They reached the surface level.
The depot was chaos.
Refugees were scrambling onto a sleek, silver bullet train. It was marked [BOARD EXECUTIVE TRANSPORT]. Luxury class.
"Marcus!" Galen waved from the engine door. "Hurry! The reactor is hot!"
They sprinted across the platform.
Marcus shoved Marcia on board. He grabbed Narcissus's arm and hauled the giant into the cargo hold.
He jumped in last.
"Go! Go!"
The train began to move.
Smooth. Silent. Powerful.
It accelerated out of the station.
They burst out of the tunnel.
Light hit them.
Not gray light.
Sunlight.
Real, golden sunlight.
They were on the south side of the Alps. The mountains had blocked the nuclear winter ash.
Below them lay Italy. Green valleys. Blue lakes. No snow.
"Look," Marcia whispered, pressing her face to the glass. "It's... green."
The refugees cheered. Some cried.
Marcus didn't cheer.
He looked at the datapad he had taken from Titus's desk.
A message was flashing on the screen.
[ASSET 'TITUS' LIQUIDATED.]
[ACTIVATING ASSET 'NERO'.]
[DEPLOYING: THE BURNER LEGION.]
"Who is Nero?" Marcia asked, looking over his shoulder.
"Titus was the shield," Marcus said, staring at the screen. "Nero is the sword."
He looked at the green valley below.
"He's going to burn it all," Marcus said. "Vane is escalating. No more walls. Just fire."
[MESSAGE INCOMING.]
[SENDER: VANE.]
[CONTENT: "I liked him, Marcus. He was efficient. Now I have to send the psychopaths. See you in Rome."]
Marcus crushed the datapad in his hand.
"Welcome to Italy," he whispered.
He looked at Narcissus. The giant was slumped in the corner, leaking oil onto the pristine floor.
"We need a mechanic," Marcus said.
"I need a nap," Narcissus grunted. His eye flickered and went dark.
[SYSTEM: SLEEP MODE.]
The train sped south.Toward the sun. Toward the Vatican.
Toward the fire.