I.III.

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Part one. Chapter three.

Boom !



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New Rome was beautiful. The tiled roofs and gold domes gleamed in the sun. Gardens bloomed with honeysuckle and roses. The central plaza was paved in white and gray stone, decorated with statues, fountains, and gilded columns. In the surrounding neighborhoods, cobblestone streets were lined with freshly painted town houses, shops, cafés, and parks. In the distance rose the coliseum and the horse racing arena.

Aris hated this place.

Yet she had nowhere else to go. All she had was the city she grew up in.

After storming away from lunch, Aris had just started walking around the city. Over the past few months, walking around the city was one of her only escapes from everything. She could just let her feet lead her, mind wandering. Aristea Mallory often thought about her life. She often thought about the Fates and the path they had forged for her.

This time, she was thinking about her dream from the previous evening. Mars had come to give her a message.

He had told her she had a great deal of pain ahead of her. Aris had scoffed as she slouched in the plastic arcade chair. "Haven't I already been through enough pain ?" She muttered before sipping at the strawberry flavoured water her grandfather had conjured up for her.

Mars sat in front of her, a round table between them. His hands were steepled on its surface. "Aristea look at me."

She did, chewing at her straw.

Mars wasn't handsome per say. His face was marred with scars, stubble scratched his cheeks and his eyes were violent. He was all bold and harsh lines and slashes. But somehow, he always seemed to soften around her.

"Do you know who you are ?"

"A traitor to Rome ?"

"You're my kid."

"I'm your kid's kid," she corrected.

Mars shook his head. "As far as I am concerned, you are more my daughter than your dad was my son."

"That makes no sense."

"You get what I mean," Mars insisted. Aris looked down and nodded. "You were born for greatness, Aristea Mallory. Most greatness only comes through pain and suffering. Name hero who was happy."

"I get the point you're trying to make." Aris looked up and stared Mars straight in the eyes. "But I'm not a hero."

"You could be."

"I don't want to be. I just want to be left alone."

"I'm afraid, that's not in the cards for you, Brains." Aris had given a brittle smile at the nickname. Mars knew how much she hated her beauty so he had taken to calling her Brains every time he would take her to their little dream arcade.

Wiping away a wayward tear, she pursed her lips and exhaled through her nose. "Can we shoot some stuff ?" She changed the subject.

"Thought you would never ask."

She had spent the rest of her dream playing at shooting games with Mars. He let her win most of the games. Of course he did. Mars Ultor was the closest thing Aristea Tempest Mallory had to a father.

Aris blinked back to reality and scoffed out loud. Of course she had ended up there. She always ended up in front a familiar apartment building. Her old home, if you could call that place a home.

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