The night had fallen, draping the city in shadows that seemed to creep from every corner. The Feast of Lupercal had turned into a chaotic blur of sounds, laughter, and reckless abandon. Leo had barely managed to slip away from the throng of celebrants and found himself wandering the narrow alleys of Rome, where lanterns flickered and cast elongated, dancing shapes on the cobblestones.
He knew he was being reckless. With whispers of betrayal swirling around Caesar's return, Leo felt the weight of his situation more heavily than ever. His heart thumped with urgency as he tried to collect his thoughts.
I need to know who's who, he reminded himself, recalling the holographic list of influential figures he'd seen earlier. He needed allies—if he could find them—and he needed to stay out of sight from those who would see him as a threat.
Suddenly, a movement in the dark caught his eye. He tensed, every muscle in his body going rigid as a figure stepped out from behind a pile of crates. A young man, cloaked in the deep blue of a senator's household, emerged with an expression of quiet desperation.
"You're not supposed to be here," the man whispered, voice low and edged with caution. Leo's eyes darted from the man's face to the dagger glinting at his hip.
"I could say the same to you," Leo replied, his voice steady despite the pulse of fear in his chest.
The man laughed, but it was brittle, a sound that spoke of exhaustion and fear. "They're hunting for me, and you're in my way."
"Who's 'they'?" Leo asked, taking a cautious step forward. The man's eyes, dark and anxious, met his own.
"Caius Cassius," he spat the name like venom. "And Brutus. They'll do whatever it takes to stop Caesar from gaining absolute power. But if they catch me, I won't just be another name in their plot."
Leo's breath caught. Brutus? Cassius? He knew the names all too well. They were the ones who would ultimately betray Caesar, bringing about his death on the Ides of March.
"Who are you?" Leo pressed, now convinced that this encounter was more significant than he'd initially thought.
The man shifted, the weight of the night pressing on him. "I'm Marcus Decimus Brutus. I'm not the man you think I am." He met Leo's eyes with a mixture of exhaustion and determination. "And I need someone who knows more than I do to change Rome's course."
Leo's mind raced. This was the chance he needed—a way to influence the future, to be more than just an observer. But at the same time, it was dangerous. If word of his involvement got out, the entire city would be ablaze with whispers of betrayal, and he would be at the center of it.
"Why me?" Leo asked, his voice quiet, barely louder than the night air.
"Because I know who you are, Leo Carter," Decimus Brutus said, his eyes widening with recognition. "And I believe you're not just here by chance."
Leo's pulse quickened. How did he know my name?
Before Leo could ask, footsteps echoed from the entrance of the alley, harsh and hurried. Two Roman guards appeared, lanterns in hand, their eyes sharp as they searched the dark.
"Hide," Decimus whispered, pushing Leo behind a stack of clay urns. The young senator's voice dropped to a near whisper. "If you want to change anything, you need to start by understanding Rome's secrets. Trust no one, not even Caesar."
The guards passed, unaware of the two figures just feet away, hidden by the shadows and the night. Leo's heart drummed in his chest, a mixture of fear and anticipation. He had just met one of the key players in the fate of Rome, and his destiny had just taken a new, dangerous turn.
As the guards disappeared, Decimus took a step back, eyes fixed on Leo. "We need to meet again. But only when the time is right. Rome will never be the same after tonight."
Leo nodded, the weight of his future pressing down on him. He had just stepped into a game that would make or break him. And as the first tendrils of dawn kissed the horizon, Leo Carter knew he would need to be ready for whatever came next.