He heard her voice, she was calling for him. Bella. It was a distant voice at first, only faint, but sharp enough to break through the static within his mind. It echoed across some unseen boundary, growing closer. Warmer.

  “Ampelius!”

  His eyes blinked open.The light above was low, tinted amber, like a late evening sun filtered through smoke. But he didn’t care. She was there. Running toward him from across the sand.

  His chest lifted in an unfamiliar warmth which was spreading through out his body. He stood, unsteady but smiling. For a moment, nothing else existed. He opened his arms.

  She was almost close enough to touch. And then—

  Blink. She was gone. In her place, a massive ostrich was bolting toward him at full speed, its long legs kicking up dark sand in frantic strides. Its beady eyes didn’t register him, and its beak opened in something like panic.

  Without even flinching, Ampelius dropped into a roll, letting the creature barrel past him. The wind of its motion rustled his hair. He rose to one knee, eyes tracking it. What the hell?

  The bird didn’t stop. It galloped toward the far side of the arena, where something darker moved just beyond the edge of the light. That’s when he noticed the details.

  The sand wasn’t its usual pale tan. It was black, almost soot-like, damp. The walls of the arena were higher now, rimmed with mounted cameras but no visible guards. The air was thicker. Hotter. Artificial, as if they were in a desert.

  His gaze swung back to the ostrich, and then he saw why it hadn’t stopped running. A tiger.

  A large, lean, and terrifyingly fast predator that was chasing after it with terrifying grace, muscles rippling beneath striped fur. No collar. No handler. Just hunger. Its eyes gleamed not with wild instinct, but something worse.

  "Focus" Ampelius exhaled sharply.

  This wasn't a hallucination. He was awake. And the game had just changed.

  To his surprise, the tiger was focused entirely on the ostrich, not him. Its movements were calculated, almost lazy in their confidence. It didn’t sprint. It stalked. The ostrich kept running in wide loops, kicking up plumes of black sand as it tried not to corner itself. The tiger followed at a steady pace, closing the distance bit by bit, as if it enjoyed watching the fear build.

  Ampelius stayed low, crouched near the edge of the arena wall, observing. Every instinct told him to move, to act, but logic forced him still. As long as the tiger was distracted, he had time.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  He scanned the space. The arena was empty, intentionally so. There were no crates, no scattered weapons, not even bones. Just black sand and smooth stone. A few scattered rocks lay nearby, but they were dull, rounded, barely bigger than his fist. Useless against something like that.

  His mind started racing. He needed a plan. Sooner or later, the tiger would tire of the chase. And when it did, it would notice the easier target, the one not running. The one standing still.

  I’m slower. I can’t outrun it. Not like that bird. So what then?

  He picked up one of the rocks anyway. It was warm from the artificial heat. A bit heavy, but not sharp enough to kill the tiger. Still, it was something. A distraction, if nothing else.

  He shifted his weight slightly and began moving sideways along the wall, staying low and quiet, careful not to draw attention. All the while, his eyes never left the tiger. Because he knew that eventually, it would look back. And when it did, he’d need more than luck to survive.

  Before long, the ostrich was taken down.

  It didn't even make a sound. Just one final stumble, a blur of claws, and then the tiger was on top of it, its jaws clamping down hard, silencing the thrashing body beneath.

  Feathers drifted into the air like ash. The sound of tearing flesh filled the arena, wet and violent. Ampelius didn’t move. He just watched it feast. It was eating with single-minded savagery, its back turned, ribs rising and falling in rhythm with every breath and bite.

  That’s when a thought crept in. Would this would be the best time to strike? While it was distracted? Vulnerable, even?

  His fingers tightened around the rock in his hand as he rose slowly. Was it smart?

  Maybe not. But standing still wasn’t going to save him either. There were no exits. No doors. No guards. Just the unblinking eyes of mounted cameras above, and the stench of blood baking under the artificial heat.

  Sooner or later, he’d have to face the damn thing. Better now, while it was feeding, before it came looking for dessert. Still, his legs hesitated. His breath caught. He wasn’t just afraid of the tiger. He was afraid of what might happen if he stopped holding back.

  He mustered the courage and ran at a full sprint, straight toward the tiger with no hesitation, no second thoughts. The ground pounded beneath his feet, sand flying backwards as his breath was sharp within his throat.

  He raised the rock high, preparing to strike.

  But then came the flash. White light swallowed everything. A blink. A lurch. And suddenly, he was somewhere else.

  The first thing he noticed was the smoke—thick, black, choking—rising in heavy curls around him. The heat from nearby fires pressed down like a furnace. He lay in a mound of bodies, limbs tangled like discarded mannequins, the flesh charred and cracking. A city was burning around him.

  Above the mountain of corpses, a Roman flag flapped limply, its red and gold curling into ash. Stone buildings crumbled around him, shattered by fire and time. The air itself screamed distant shouts, explosions, and the crackle of flames devouring wood and flesh alike.

  Roman soldiers moved through the wreckage, faces masked, armor enhanced by exoskeletons. Some held rifles. Others carried flamethrowers. They swept arcs of fire through the dead—again and again—as if afraid the corpses might rise.

  And then came the voice.

  Not spoken aloud, but inside his mind, a smooth, calculated, impossibly close:

  "Don’t fight it. Unleash your willpower. Let your desires shape you into the ultimate soldier. Once you submit… you’ll be ready to escape this prison and begin your mission."

  The voice paused, as if smiling. "You were never meant to be caged."

  He tried to scream, but the air caught in his throat. The flames took all of the oxygen, making him suffocate. But the city burned. And deep down… something inside him wanted it too.