The Sack of Rome

It was the end of the world. Julian's eyes saw the sweeping flames of fire, enveloping the once-proud city streets of Roma. A charging Visigoth charged at him, shield at his waist, his sword high into the air. A stinking bellowing scream erupted from the mouth of the barbarian. Julian thrust his shield and slapped it hard into the Visigoth, and thrust his spear into the stomach of the Visigoth. Ten dead bodies of the barbarians lay around him. He stared back at the last idols of the once great religion that Rome had been founded upon one last time. Jupiter and Mars. The paint had not been eroded. But it was the last comfort, the last refuge. The Christians had removed what was once the religion of Nero and Augustus.

And it shamed him, that today he would be seeing the sack of Roma. It was their fault. Constantine had abandoned his Gods. This was nothing more than the wrath. The screams of innocent civilians poured into his ear. He cursed silently, wishing he had never been born in these brutal days for Rome. His heart began to beat softly, his fear rising. Scipio's words had come true. He did not know whether it was the spirits of the Carthaginians or the spirit of Hannibal himself that had brought destruction upon Rome, something he could not do.

The temple had a secret entrance where he would leave this world. He would go back to the old days of Rome and reverse what had happened. That had been Jupiter's intervention yesterday in his dreams. He turned away from the bodies and came upon the arched gate which glowed. One last time, he stared at the mighty temples and monuments crumbling. He would rebuild Rome from the ashes.