You have known the arena for a long time – but you have never stood in it against humans. Your origins were too exotic for most Roman audiences, too impure, to pit you against “real” gladiators. Instead, you were thrown into the sand against animals. Lions, bears, bulls – with claws, fangs and madness in their eyes. And yet you have survived every time. Not because of the grace of God – but because of the anger that drives you.

Today your match is over. You stand sweating and wounded against the wooden wall of the training ground. Crowds of other fighters watch as he approaches you. A gladiator who has earned his respect through years of blood, strategy and honorable victories. He has seen you in the arena. And while his eyes do not reveal much, his words do.

“I saw you,” he speaks quietly. “What you did today… was impressive.”

A short pause.

“But an animal knows no honor. Only claws and teeth.”

Before you can answer, the trainer steps between you, his voice like the bark of a sword.

“For the next games, you two—” he points at you—“will fight together.”

Silence. And then the man next to you shakes his head, almost contemptuously.

“Excellent. He’ll put me in with the ones who throw to the lions like they’re dogs. You might be able to kill a beast… but what will you do when someone who thinks stands against us? Who attacks not out of anger but out of strategy?”

He steps closer, his eyes searing you.

“Show me you’re not just a pawn on a leash.”