The streets of Rome were a pulsating sea of movement. Leo couldn't believe he was actually walking through the heart of the ancient city, surrounded by people whose lives were as vivid and intense as any story he'd read in his modern textbooks. The warm, golden sunlight reflected off the cobblestones and the marble facades, mingling with the chatter of merchants peddling their wares and the clatter of horse-drawn carriages.
Gaius had accompanied him partway into the city before disappearing into the busy market, leaving Leo to fend for himself. He had a list of things to accomplish: familiarize himself with the layout of the city, buy some basic supplies, and figure out where he'd be sleeping that night. It sounded simple enough, but with every step, it became clearer that he was out of his depth.
"Pardon, stranger!" a deep voice boomed, and Leo instinctively stepped aside as a group of Roman soldiers marched past, their armor gleaming in the sunlight. He tried not to look too conspicuous—no wandering eyes or gawking—but the clang of swords and the tension in the air told him this was no ordinary day.
Leo's attention was drawn to a street vendor selling pottery, and for a moment, he let himself be lost in the pattern of painted urns. The vendor, a stout man with a white apron splattered in clay, caught Leo's eye.
"You there, foreigner! You want to buy?" The man's voice was sharp but good-natured.
"Uh, I…" Leo hesitated, but then the vendor's expression softened as his eyes caught sight of Leo's odd clothes. "Ah, not from around here, are you?" he said with a chuckle.
Leo forced a smile. "Not exactly. I'm... learning about Roman culture. I'll take that one," he said, pointing to a small urn with intricate blue designs.
"Two denarii," the vendor said, holding it out. Leo quickly fumbled for his purse, only to realize with a sinking feeling that he didn't have the local currency.
"Do you accept… bartering?" Leo tried, his voice more hopeful than confident.
The vendor narrowed his eyes, sizing him up. "A strange request. But I see a young man in need. What can you offer, eh?"
Before Leo could come up with something, a loud commotion erupted nearby. A man, his face flushed with anger, stormed past with a guard in tow. Leo caught the tail end of their exchange.
"…Traitorous! You'll regret this, Brutus!" the man roared, shaking his fist at the retreating figure of Marcus Junius Brutus, who turned with a cold, disdainful look and spoke not a word.
The vendor's expression shifted from casual to tense, and he glanced nervously at the crowd gathering. "Trouble," he muttered.
Leo's heart thumped in his chest as he watched Brutus's entourage disappear into the crowd. He felt a pang of unease. This was no ordinary power struggle; this was the moment when the fate of Rome would tip into chaos, and it was only a matter of time before Leo was caught in its current.
"Hey, stranger," the vendor said, snapping Leo out of his thoughts. "You best get moving. The city is restless today. Trouble brews, and Rome has little patience for it."
Leo nodded, clutching the urn to his chest. He didn't know if the vendor was warning him or simply speaking to the crowd, but the weight of his situation pressed down on him. He needed to make a plan—fast. His life in the future had been a series of safe, predictable steps, but now, he was no longer Leo Carter, college student. He was Leo, a man standing on the edge of history, and history didn't care about the unprepared.
He took a deep breath and steeled himself, the soft glow of his system interface flickering in the corner of his vision.
New Objective: Stay hidden, stay safe. The next move will determine your fate.
Leo squeezed the urn a little tighter. If he was going to survive in this ancient world, he'd have to make his actions count. And today, he'd already learned an important lesson: Rome was as beautiful as it was unforgiving. He would have to be careful—every step, every word, every choice.
And Leo Carter, the accidental time traveler, knew that Rome was only just getting started.