The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a fiery glow over the ancient city of Veridion. Its tall stone walls, adorned with ivy, stood as a proud testament to its resistance. The air was thick with tension as Roman soldiers, clad in gleaming armor, gathered at the outskirts, their silhouettes stark against the crimson sky.

At the forefront, General Acacius, surveyed the city, hearing the panic within its walls.

The city's warriors, clad in leather armor and armed with bows and spears, hastily manned the battlements, but stood no chance against the sheer power of the Roman Army.

The gates splintered under the relentless assault, a cacophony of wood and iron mingling with the shouts of warriors from both sides.

With a final, thunderous crash, the gates crumbled, and the Roman legion surged through the breach like a tide reclaiming the land. The streets of Veridion became a whirlwind of swords and shields, the sounds of clash and cries intertwining in a haunting melody of war.

The streets ran red as the Romans claimed their prize, steadily taking control of Veridion. Lyra, witnessing her city’s downfall, fought with the last of her strength, but she was overwhelmed. All around, the atmosphere shifted from resistance to despair.

As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, the sky as red as the bloodstained stones. Marcus stood in the village square, watching as the survivors were sorted by soldiers.

"I claim this city for glory of Rome!”

The once proud city lay in ruins, now a symbol of Roman might. His eyes fall on you as you are dragged into a group by a soldier.

"That one comes with me."