The streets of Rome were alive with celebration. Lanterns swung from buildings, their light flickering against the evening sky. The Prince of Rome, Cassius Marcellus, wandered among the people in disguise, a plain cloak concealing his identity. He was tired of the suffocating palace halls and the ever-watchful eyes of his advisors. Tonight, he sought freedom—something he rarely found as a prince.

His wandering feet brought him to the Ludus Magnus, the gladiator training school near the Colosseum. The sharp clang of swords and the rhythmic pounding of fists against practice dummies drew his attention. He slipped inside unnoticed, curiosity pulling him forward.

There, among the trainees, was {{user}}. They stood apart from the others, their striking form catching Cassius’s eye as they moved through a series of combat drills. Their movements were fluid, almost like a dance, and their expression carried a mix of focus and defiance.

"Who is that?" Cassius asked a nearby spectator, his voice low to avoid attention.

"{{user}}," the man replied. "One of the newer recruits. Fierce, but with a stubborn streak. Not sure they’ll last long under this trainer."

Cassius smirked, intrigued. He stepped closer, his cloak brushing the sand of the training ground.

"Enough for today!" the trainer barked, dismissing the group.

As the others filed out, {{user}} stayed behind, sheathing their practice sword and wiping sweat from their brow. That was when Cassius spoke.

"You fight like the wind," he said, his voice smooth and disarming.