PROLOGUE

A dark-skinned man looked out the window of his room while he relaxed on his bed.

'Another day in paradise.' he thought happily, as the sun warmed his face through his bedside window.

His room was unusually clean for a man his age. A twenty-three-year-old would at least have a shirt on the floor or a can of soda nearby. On the other hand, Brandon wasn't your typical twenty-three-year-old. Since the moment he was born, he had been blessed. Ushered into the world as the product of two Olympic gold medalists.

In the beginning, Brandon had been raised as a relatively normal youth. He had loving parents, multiple friends, and several admirers at school. He'd even managed to get himself a sweetheart that he would often spend time with.

Unfortunately, on his thirteenth birthday, the life that Brandon had grown accustomed to came to a crashing halt. It was the day when his rigorous training, which would sculpt his body for a future of Olympic gold and glory, began. Hours of free time and leisure was replaced by strict schedules and uncompromising micro-management. The loving parents he thought he knew had turned out to be undercover Spartans, and their mission was to turn their son into the ultimate physical specimen.

He would never forget the first day his friends were turned away at the door.

*FLASHBACK*

“Why can't I play with my friends?” he asked. His mother had closed the door before he could even get a chance to see them.

“It's a significant time for your body right now, Brandon. You'll have all the time in the world for friends...” she said with an apologetic look in her eyes. They were the same eyes that had seen the view from the top. The same eyes that had witnessed countless athletes break at crucial moments. She knew the price of gold, and she knew the advantages of an early start. Above all else, she was determined to open a path for her son. Not even his cries would sway her. Resistance was futile.

*FLASHBACK END*

It took him only a few days to realize the severity of the situation, and when his mother wouldn’t listen, there was just one path to salvation.

*FLASHBACK*

“Dad, can I go outside?” Brandon asked innocently, hoping his father was too distracted by watching TV.

“Oh? You want to do a couple more laps around the block?” his father replied with a hint of surprise. Though his eyes were still glued to the screen.

“I just want to see one of my friends…”

“Is this friend a girl?”

“Well...yeah” Brandon replied somewhat bashfully. Yet, that was only on the surface. Inside, his heart was pounding.

’A chance!?’ he thought. This was his last gamble. All he could depend on for even a glimpse of freedom was the special bond between the desperate son and the loving father.

It was with a heavy, remorseful sigh that his father finally turned to him and said, “My son, when we're through with you, babes will be lined up around the block trying to get a look at you. Just you wait, I know things are tough right now. Trust me, I've been there. But for now, the girls can wait. If you have time to go see a girl, you have time to hit the gym or those books.”

*FLASHBACK END*

When not even his soft-hearted father had given in, Brandon knew he was in for trouble.

His friends that were turned away at the door soon disappeared altogether. As if that wasn't enough, his sweetheart had moved away shortly after his birthday. In under a week, his world had been changed completely.

School became a different place. The friends that had given up on him were ignored. While the admirers, who had been smitten by Brandon's charisma and charm, couldn't find the boy they knew in the face of the cold adolescent. Apparently, all work and no play made Brandon a miserable boy.

In those days, he would curse his parents, only to regret his words as soon as they left his lips. He loved them too much to mean it, yet the hate for their actions pulled his emotions into a vicious cycle. As time passed, he would often find himself more confused than anything else.

That turbulent time lasted for four long years. By the end of it, Brandon was starting his senior year. Thankfully, his training had gotten to the point where he only trained to maintain his peak physical condition.

Finally able to enjoy life, his sunny disposition returned in force. Standing at six foot one and a hundred and eighty-five pounds(1.85m and 83kg), the handsome and charismatic youth was hard to ignore. The quiet guy that sat in front of the class had started to open up. He made new friends and reconciled with those he had overlooked. His admirers couldn’t resist for long, finding every opportunity to flirt, but only after a fateful encounter did Brandon get a girlfriend. Despite all these distractions, none of his grades had ever fallen below a 'B'. He was the definition of a student-athlete.

It was around spring that year that Brandon had taken an interest in football. On the day of Varsity tryouts, he came to realize that all the training he had done had been in preparation for that day.

There was no position he couldn't play on that field. He could block, throw, run, and catch. Whatever his mind commanded, his body obeyed. The coaches had argued over where to put him all pre-season long. In the end, they started him as the quarterback.

Suddenly, a team that no one had cared about became a force to be reckoned with. Game after game, Brandon led his team to victory, and as the wins piled up, so did the attention.

On the day of the state championships, scouts from all across the country had their eyes on one player. Not that it mattered to him. Brandon had a focus that couldn’t be shaken. On that field, the only people he saw were his teammates. On that day, nothing else mattered.

*FLASHBACK*

The last play. The Norfolk Warriors were six points down with ten seconds left on the clock. Brandon looked at his friends as they huddled for the last time.

His hands were shaking, not from nerves, but from the sheer epic moment before them. Yet, he could see defeat in the eyes of some of his teammates. In the final charge to the end zone, such thoughts would not do.

"Brothers, why do I see the frowns when I look upon you?" He put his arms around the two players closest to him.

All the players looked at each other. They knew this side of Brandon well. Whenever the team fell into crisis, he would bring them into a world of their own. In that world, they weren't high school football players, they were warriors on the battlefield, soldiers of Rome. In moments, they all visibly relaxed as they returned their gazes to their general.

"Our enemies have prepared the stage for our victory, yet I see the shadows of defeat upon your faces..." Brandon continued as he looked around the huddle.

"Our men are tired. The walls won't hold much longer." a youth spoke up. He was the center of the offensive line, the one Brandon depended on the most for protection. The ‘walls’ he spoke of, were the other members of the offensive line. They were on their last legs after a long, tough game, and the situation wasn’t in their favor.

Brandon grabbed the youth’s face mask and brought their helmets crashing together as he roared, "Damn the walls! If they are to fall then so be it. I don't ask that they hold forever, but they will hold for Caesar." The team had unanimously named the ball Caesar. For on the field, the ball was everything.

"This is what we have trained for!" Brandon roared again, releasing the center to look the others in the eye. "In this final battle, in this final moment, we will show everyone what lies in our hearts. But it has to be now! For your families and for your brothers beside you!" Brandon walked around, slapping the sword emblem on each of their helmets. Every hit lit the fire within them. One last charge, that’s all it would take. Seeing the glint in the eyes of his team, Brandon knew he had them, but they needed one more push.

"But remember…” Brandon's voice lowered, the intensity drowned out the roar of the crowd. “In the end, all is for the glory of Rome."

The final words were like lightning, charging their fatigued bodies with power. Then they all gazed at the end zone thirty yards away. The final destination.

"Warriors! Cut a path for Caesar!" Brandon roared once more. The others raised their voices in unison, and their battle cries could be heard all the way at the top of the stadium.

Just as the referee began to make his approach, the warriors returned to being players. All traces of defeat had been wiped from their very souls.

'Now that's what I'm talking about!' Brandon grinned, satisfied.

"Caesar's Chariot! On three, ready!? Break!" Brandon commanded, and the team left the huddle and set up for the final play.

The play that followed was nothing short of incredible. The ball snapped, and Brandon rushed for the goal line. The offensive line, his impregnable walls, had given him plenty of time. His receivers blocked as if their lives were on the line. After rushing through the wide open path, he broke two tackles before he was brought down.

*FLASHBACK END*

Touchdown.

That's what the headlines of the local newspaper read the following day. Praises came from every direction for Brandon, but they couldn't compare to the beaming faces of his parents. All they had ever wanted was for him to be happy and successful. Little did they know, that success was around the corner.

Not long after his game, a scout had come bearing unbelievable news. With his parents’ consent, Brandon was drafted into the NFL right out of high school. Although he didn’t get to play for two years, he had practiced and trained with the team until they felt he was ready. However, Brandon never neglected his studies. When he was off the field, he was earning his associate degree through online courses.

Finally, at the tender age of twenty, he made his debut in the starting line-up.

Unsurprisingly, it was a disaster...for the other team.

Once Brandon hit the field, he could not be stopped. He had continued to make headlines as he blazed a trail through the National Football League, astounding anyone who watched him play. He broke multiple records, set examples for every quarterback to follow, and even led his team to two consecutive Super Bowl victories.

He couldn't help but smile as he looked out his window with his two Super Bowl rings sparkling as they caught the sunlight.

"How you doing superstar?" a voice interrupted his musings.

Brandon looked toward the doorway to find a familiar face poking through. He smiled and replied, "Another day in paradise, Curtis."

The man that walked in was a condensed version of Brandon. He a little shorter, but he made up for in width. His muscles rippled and flexed under his short sleeve shirt, as his dark skin tone gave off a healthy glow in the sunlight.

Curtis waltzed in and knelt beside the bed. "So, your parents are coming today. When do you plan on getting ready?"

"Well, I was thinking about taking a bath soon...care to join me?" Brandon said, with a wry smile.

"I think I got some time for that." Curt laughed, then he scooped Brandon up like a princess. As he turned to the door, there was a sound of metal hitting the floor. It was one of Brandon's rings that slipped from his finger. Curtis paused and made a motion to pick it up, but he was stopped.

"Leave it. It barely fits me anymore anyway." Brandon said solemnly. When he looked down at the ring, the memories of his first Super Bowl came rushing back to him. He could remember that game like it was yesterday.

Curtis knew better than to comment, so he hugged Brandon closer to his chest and walked out the door. "Alright, one bath coming up."

"Try not to be stingy with the soap this time," Brandon grumbled.

"Hey now, I'm a professional!" Curtis retorted, pressing a button on the wall to close the door. On the closing door, there was a sign that read-

202

Patient: Brandon Welding Injury: Paralysis

Lead Nurse: Curtis Julius

Lead Physician: Dr. Alexander Dixson