The days following the loan sharks' attack dragged on in a tense calm, like the silence preceding a summer storm. A whole week passed without new incidents, but Lucius remained vigilant, barely sleeping, always with a piece of wood within reach. However, violence did not return. What arrived, instead of collectors, was a letter sealed with red wax, bearing the crest of House Valerius. It was the summons. The definitive change.

  The morning of departure found Lucius, Selena, and little Lucia in Marcus's workshop. The environment, previously just a dusty workplace, now seemed like a sanctuary of recent memories and unlikely victories.

  They were celebrating, albeit in a subdued manner. There was an amphora of better quality wine on the workbench and fresh bread with honey. Marcus was exultant, eyes shining brighter than the varnish of his creations. He explained, gesturing broadly, that this workshop would soon be too small. He had already rented a larger space near Trajan's Market and planned to hire three new assistants to handle the orders from the laundry women and for the treadle lathes.

  Flavio, in turn, wore a simple travel tunic and carried a bundle of belongings on his shoulders. The giant would report to the military castrum that very afternoon for enlistment.

  In a quiet corner of the workshop, sitting on a pile of clean wood covered by a cloth, was Lucia. The girl, oblivious to the tectonic shifts in the adults' lives, delighted in a globus, a small ball of fried dough covered in honey and poppy seeds that Marcus had bought especially for her. Selena was beside her, smoothing her daughter's hair with a look that mixed relief and anxiety.

  Marcus turned to Lucius, holding his clay cup with both hands.

  "I'm going to miss you all, truly," the carpenter confessed, his voice choked. He looked around at the tools that now seemed to promise a golden future. "I don't regret for a second listening to that crazy one-wheeled idea of yours."

  Lucius smiled, leaning against one of the benches.

  "It was a pleasure to help, Marcus. Honestly," he replied. "I was just desperate for money, you know. Necessity is the mother of invention. But sometimes, a restless mind full of ideas... can bear unexpected fruit."

  Marcus laughed, agreeing with a vigorous nod.

  "So that's it. Our paths separate here, at least for now," the carpenter said.

  "It seems that is my destiny," murmured Lucius, his gaze getting lost in the dust dancing in the sunbeams. "After all, I need to survive. And if for that I must march to the North, then I will march."

  Marcus shook his head, serious.

  "I am sure you won't just survive, Lucius. You are going to do great things yet. I feel it in my bones."

  "That's an exaggeration," Lucius deflected, feeling uncomfortable with the prophecy.

  "It isn't," Marcus refuted with conviction. "The gods themselves have blessed you. Minerva touched your mind, or perhaps Vulcan guided your hands. A common man does not draw the future on a wooden board. You must follow the path of the great, for it is already laid out."

  Lucius let out a short laugh, trying to dissipate the solemnity of the moment.

  "Making a wheelbarrow isn't going to take me to the top of the world, my friend. It's just wood and basic necessity."

  Marcus raised an eyebrow, an enigmatic smile on his lips.

  "Will it?"

  Both laughed, and Flavio joined them with his thunderous laughter.

  But as the laughter died down, Lucius's mind worked in silence, pondering his friend's words. Marcus is probably right, he thought. The coincidence of his arrival in this time, with all his knowledge intact, was too great to be chance. Perhaps some god, or an entire pantheon, wanted something from him. Was his knowledge the key? But if they were powerful enough to bring him across millennia, why put him in the skin of a miserable debtor? Why not in the body of a senator or the Emperor himself? Maybe they aren't that omnipotent, he concluded, or maybe they have a very sadistic sense of humor.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  The sound of heavy wheels and iron-shod hooves cracking against the pavement outside interrupted his reverie. A covered carriage, robust and well-built, stopped in front of the workshop. The driver, wearing the colors of House Valerius, climbed down to open the door.

  Flavio whistled, impressed.

  "Look at that," the giant joked, slapping Lucius on the back hard enough to almost make him lose his balance. "This noble is betting big on you. Sent a private carriage to pick up the new apprentice. That's worth more than my entire life's work."

  "It scares me, to be honest," admitted Lucius, looking at the vehicle. "The bigger the bet, the bigger the demand."

  "You'll be fine for sure," Flavio assured him, his expression turning serious and brotherly. "You have the mind, brother. Use it."

  Lucius turned to his friend. That huge man, who had bled for him asking nothing in return.

  "Take care, Flavio. Please," said Lucius, hugging him. He felt the strength of his friend's muscles, the solidity of a friendship forged in stone and danger. "Don't try to be a hero alone."

  "I'll stay alive, if only to see where you end up," Flavio promised.

  Next, Lucius hugged Marcus.

  "Thank you for believing in me when I was just a madman drawing on wood," Lucius said.

  "Thank you for making me rich," Marcus replied, winking to hide his emotion.

  "It might take a while for us to see each other again," Flavio said, looking at the two. "But we definitely will. Germania isn't that big."

  Selena called Lucia, wiping sweet crumbs from the girl's face. Lucius guided his family to the carriage. He helped Selena up and then hoisted Lucia, who watched everything with wide eyes of wonder.

  When the door closed and the vehicle began to move, the acoustic insulation muffled the street sounds, creating a bubble of silence. Selena rested her head on Lucius's shoulder, sighing with exhaustion and relief. Lucia nestled in her mother's lap, lulled by the rocking of the leather springs.

  Lucius looked through the small curtained window. The city passed by them, a blur of colors and life. As they moved away from the dense and dirty center, the view opened up.

  About four kilometers later, the road rose slightly, and Lucius saw it.

  There it was again. The Flavian Amphitheatre. The Colosseum.

  In his previous life, he had seen only the exposed stone carcass, the bones of a dead giant. But now... the sight made him dizzy. It was breathtaking. The structure was alive, pulsating. The white travertine shone under the midday sun, so polished it hurt the eyes. Red flags and banners fluttered at the top, and he could see the masts, the gigantic canvas covering that protected the spectators. Bronze and marble statues occupied the arches of the upper floors, silent guardians of Roman glory.

  As an engineer, his heart raced. The perfection of the joints, the magnitude of the structural load, the harmony of forms. He was dying to go inside one day, to touch those stones not as a tourist seeing ruins, but as a contemporary witnessing the height of civilization. It was fascinating, terrifying, and beautiful.

  The journey continued for three hours, leaving behind the urban chaos and entering the tranquility of the hills where the Roman elite kept their summer villas and permanent residences far from the stench of the Tiber.

  Finally, the carriage slowed and turned right, passing through an iron gate flanked by high stone walls. They entered a vast estate. The path was lined with ancient cypresses and meticulously tended gardens where fountains gushed crystal-clear water, an unimaginable luxury for someone coming from the insulae.

  Several guards patrolled the perimeter. Lucius noticed immediately that they didn't wear the segmented armor of the legions seen in movies and documentaries, but rather tunics in the house colors and light chainmail. They were mercenaries, the noble's personal guard, loyal only to Valerius's gold.

  The carriage stopped before the villa's main staircase. The door was opened from the outside.

  "We've arrived," Lucius whispered to Selena, squeezing her hand to transmit courage.

  They stepped down. A rigid-postured guard approached.

  "Welcome," the man said without much emotion, extending his hand. "Identification."

  Lucius produced the bronze plate and the sealed papyrus Marcus had given him. The guard examined the items, compared them with a list he carried, and nodded, returning them.

  "Follow me. Master Valerius awaits."

  The guard guided them inside. If the exterior was impressive, the interior was oppressive in its magnificence. Lucius was awestruck. The floor was a complex mosaic depicting mythological scenes, made with stones so small they looked like painting. Colored marble columns supported a high ceiling painted with vibrant frescoes.

  They were led to a huge room, a kind of waiting atrium for lower-ranking guests or business. There were polished noble wood tables, statues of lesser gods in wall niches, and large fine ceramic vases overflowing with fresh flowers that perfumed the air, masking any odor from the outside world.

  "Make yourselves comfortable and sit down," instructed the guard, pointing to the padded benches. "I will bring water, wine, and something to eat. Master Valerius is finishing an audience and will arrive shortly."

  Lucius sat down, feeling the softness of the upholstery. Selena sat beside him, holding Lucia firmly, her eyes sweeping the luxury around with a mix of fear and admiration. Lucius looked at a statue of Mercury in the corner of the room. That was, in fact, history materialized before his eyes, and now, he wasn't just a spectator. He was part of the machine.