He had been waiting for a while. As Gaius looked around, surrounded by attentive guards they straightened their backs and made a great effort not to flinch. What is to be done when people fear even looking at you? It was not a new dilemma for him, but at a time of such need of information, it would help that wasn’t so.

The table he rested on was very large and luxurious, even if only two people used it. Julia sat on the other side and was the only person actively gazing at him. Nevertheless, when he replied with a look her face reddened and began to sweat. She went back to eating her food, and Gaius did the same.

Mashed potatoes, ground meat, and light spices. Minerva apologized it was the best quality serving they could offer him, but she overestimated how much he disliked it. True, it was a simple dish, but those ingredients were a daily part of his diet in the real world. In the game, he would only eat the rarest and most expensive gourmet offerings from his chefs, but it was simply a part of holding such a high position in the empire. The problem with it was completely different.

The terrible state his capital was in was evident in many forms. Not only was the city directly threatened and breached by barbarian races, but they would have succeeded was he not there. It couldn’t be a massive migration; their numbers weren’t big enough. How could a small force like that pass through all the obstacles in the way to the empire? In ancient Rome, by the time the capital was being directly threatened like that was far into its decline, long after everything about the state, culture, and military was already rotten, unrecognizable and half dead. An uneasy feeling crossed the emperor’s mind. Had the same thing happened to his empire?

It couldn’t be the case. Hegemonic nations as the one he forged don’t disappear after a day, week or however long the period he was unconscious in the coffin. This all should be an experiment, a cruel method of the game developers of using the game’s most famous player to playtest new mechanics. Heartbeats, pain reception, and much more. How long had he already been taken captive? Did Brunus know this was happening to him? Did anyone know?

In the worst-case scenario, Gaius’ body would eventually die of dehydration and lack of nutrients. In a more realistic scenario, involving his capture by the developers, they were maintaining his body alive to keep the experiment going. But even so, what did they want him to do? What was exactly he needed to achieve or prove so they could get him out of there? This situation wasn’t as scary as it would be for most. Gaius had played the game for longer and more seriously than any other in the world. If he had to endure being a prisoner in it, it would be little different than his long marathons in harsh campaigns.

He was most likely being watched, be it by developers or uninvolved spectators. The path to freedom was unclear, but there was no other choice to do what he could to find. All these uncertainties tired his mind. All he desired was return home, to be in control, to know what he needed to.

Gaius returned his gaze to Julia, “Girl.” He said, loud enough the distance between them wouldn’t interfere.

“Y-Yes?” she said, holding the spoon she used in the air by her mouth.

“Do you know where Minerva has gone?”

“… I don’t know…” she put the spoon on her plate, “She said the only reliable maps they had were in the Imperial Library, and well…”

The Imperial Library was where Gaius had found Julia, also where a battle had taken place. Most bookshelves were either destroyed or burning when he arrived. It’s no wonder Minerva was having a hard time finding what she needed. If Gaius didn’t have a map to work with, it was impossible to know or understand how the Lupus had gotten to the capital. That’s why he had to order Minerva to fetch one before they could speak. All he knew was that something was terribly wrong, and his direct intervention was necessary.

His eyes were caught by the soldiers behind Julia. They couldn’t tell he was directly looking at due to his visor, but they still acted more nervously than the others. Their behavior added to their poor uniform and poor organization earlier were all hints it was recruits guarding the palace. Where were the Divine Legionnaires? He was at the heart of the Empire, yet Minerva was the only one he found. Had they been taken to posts on the frontiers, or was it what he feared? Had they all been killed during the siege? No, that couldn’t be it. Minerva had managed to hold her ground against an entire wolfpack led by an Alpha Lupus. Had there been two or three more present they could not only have resisted but pushed them back.

“Oh…” said Julia, dropping her spoon on the ground. She stretched to reach it, her long brow hairs partially being dirtied on contact with the food. The doors of the dining room were opened. Minerva entered, carrying a large scroll.

She saluted, “I apologize for taking too long, Princeps.” She got beside Julia, taking her spoon from the ground and putting it on the table, handling the girl a clean one.

“Thank you…” Julia said, to which Minerva did not respond. She walked around the table, arriving at Gaius. She pushed his plate away and laid the map on the table, “It’s only a local Map, but it is the only one still intact I could find.”

Gaius sighed, shaking his head. He dearly wanted a world map, not just a geographic projection of the imperial peninsula. He couldn’t learn much from just the information it could give, but it was hardly a thing of Minerva’s fault, “It’s acceptable for now.” He said, “Sit down, we will be here for a while.”

“Understood,” Minerva said, pulling the chair back and sitting on it.

“You too.” Minerva said, glancing at Julia, “Get closer to hear the Princeps clearly.”

“Alright.” Julia got up, running to the chair to Gaius right.

Analyzing their relationship so far, Minerva looked to be the one in charge and possessing authority. Given Julia’s ease of learning spells, she was likely an apprentice. It could be the case Minerva was training her to supplement the lack of Divine Legionnaires. By now, Gaius did not have to wait anymore, he could have his answers.

“Minerva, where is the Divine Legion?” he asked. “They should be the ones guarding the palace, not common soldiers.”

She lowered her head, taking off the helmet and putting it on the table. It still had the scars and filth of the battle on it, on top of additional, older looking damages. Her face was anything but cheerful. Granted, she wasn’t supposed to be, but there was an added layer of dread. Gaius built her to look like the goddess of wisdom and strategy, but now she seemed closer to one of sadness, death, and loss.

“… Is it true?” Gaius asked, “Are they all…”

“… Not all of them.” Minerva said, her green eyes slightly opening, “There are still survivors, not counting me.”

It was a catastrophe for Gaius. Not since the Coalition wars had he dealt with such a huge loss of Divine Legionnaires, and even then, it was spread through a long, drawn-out war. Every one of their sacrifices had a purpose, time and place. Now, out of the blue, he had lost them. Diana, Juventas, Mercury, Bacchus, Vulcan, Mars, and tens of others. They were all uniquely crafted and useful by his past self, and he would be a liar if he said he didn’t care they were gone. Permadeath of custom NPCs was yet another thing setting Impera apart from the competition. It heavily punished mistakes and those who seek war with little knowledge of its consequences. Had he received this news a few years ago, he would be in tears. The awe and wonder of spawning intelligent beings into existence were like a drug he couldn’t get enough of. They were his children, he often thought, but as time passed on the feeling changed and faded. Each he made, the less special the previous one was. After each died, the less impactful his loss was. They were soldiers, and ought to live and die like such. Personally naming, designing and writing their personalities was an unnecessary attachment he couldn’t cut off. Brunus often berated him for calling them just AI’s, but in truth, Gaius was targeting himself. He had to convince his brain they didn’t matter, that they weren’t anything. Now that they were gone, he knew how much of a losing battle he had been fighting.

Breaking the silence, Gaius asked “Was it the Lupus?”

“Partially. “Minerva pointed to the map, her finger landed in a small patch of grasslands between the Mountains and the sea, “When the previous Emperor tried to halt the Lupus invasion, he was defeated and some of the last Divine Legionnaires were lost, along with several legions.”

“Previous Emperor?” asked Gaius, “Who do you mean?”

“Princeps Flavius Gaius. He ruled for many years and was among the first of Arcail’s victims in Roman Soil.”

“… Flavius? Arcail? I don’t know any of them.” He said, shaking his head, ”I also don’t understand how is it a Lupus horde manage to penetrate this far south, neither can I conceive how several legions could have lost holding such a secure position.” He put his hand down, “I’m getting very confused Minerva, what is the meaning of all this?”

As Gaius stared Minerva, he found the same face he was making under his mask on her, “… You don’t know? Haven’t you been watching from the unconquered lands?”

He was reminded of the difference between him and her. His reputation as a divine being made it so she assumed he was near omniscient, which he wasn’t. He would have to explain he was no such thing, and he knew as much as she would tell him. If his reputation had to be diminished, then so be it.

“No, I haven’t.” he replied, “The last thing I remember was when I returned from the northern campaign and got to my chamber after the triumph of the world conquest.”

“My…” Minerva gasped, raising her thin white eyebrows and long elven years, “That… I barely remember that night myself…”

“You don’t?”

She shook her head, “I’m afraid not, It’s been too long…”

“Too long? How long?” Gaius’ tone got deeper and louder. Julia trembled at his worsening mood and lack of patience, her eyes on Minerva.

“It was the year zero of the Imperial Calendar, a millennium ago.”

As her words reach his ears, and from there the information deciphered, Gaius froze. He heard it loud and clear, she did not need to repeat it. Never had he ever heard her tell a lie, much less to himself. His trust in Minerva was almost absolute, and so it made him take her word seriously, “… A millennium…” he whispered.

He needed time to think, time to let it sink in. His first thoughts were of complete denial, but they were overshadowed by Minerva’s truthful reputation. He tried to deny it again, but such a time skip would explain a lot. Almost everything, in fact. He was angry. The developers imprisoning him in the simulation were pushing him too far. The rage against what he couldn’t change was monumental, as its consequences were dire. He returned to not accepting it, incapable of making up any excuses to support it, but still trying.

“… How can this be?” he asked, “One thousand years… That… That doesn’t make any sense…”

“You don’t believe it?” Minerva asked, “I might need to check, but I’m sure that…”

“One thousand years…” Gaius interrupted, “… That would… I’m alive, and you…. And…” He looked at his hands, his vision blurring. The feeling was familiar. A sickness poisoned his stomach, a lack of strength in his neck, “I….” He took off his helmet, placing it on the table and over the map. It was partially thrown with more force than necessary, colliding with his so-far untouched dinner plate, splashing food around.

“Princeps! What happened!? Your face …”

Gaius hyperventilated; the helmet was suffocating him, and any reasons to have it on be damned. His vision cleared a little but remained unpleasant. Gaius had both his hands on his head, trying to fight a headache away, “… This thing…” he said, grasping the Laurel Wreath. Once more, he tried to take it off, as unsuccessful as before. He gave up, frustrated to no end. He looked up, internally cursing the item. He didn’t know how, but it was the reason for his predicament. He had no proof, but his intuition was unshakable. This could very well be the thing that was imprisoning him there, a tool of the Developers. A leash, a trap he had fallen into.

The world around him vanished as he put all the information back into pieces as if building a puzzle. Everything was normal until he had found this item, after which he had suffered hallucinations, only to wake up in that tomb. Had really died, or was it something else? If he really had been unconscious for all this time, then the conditions of the experiment he was on only got less predictable. What was the purpose of it all? Why were they doing this to him? Gaius was consumed by a great anger. His body was demanding him to punch something. He closed his eyes, took a large breath and let all those negative emotions disappear. A clear mind is a tool necessary to achieve anything, and great obstacles were placed in his path. His headache faded, and he looked back at the table.

“… I’m sorry, I lost myself there… This is a bit… too much to take…” he pressed his hand to his forehead, both trying to think on important matters and relax simultaneously. He looked at Minerva, “Please, continue the…” He stopped short, noticing the expression on her face. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows high and mouth open. It was the same astounded look she made when she awoke from her fight, but now with slightly red cheeks. Julia was the same, but her surprise seemed positive rather than shocked.

“Your eyes…” Julia said, inclining herself on the table, “They are purple! Like mine!”

Gaius glanced at her, paying heed to her comment. It was true what she said. The girl’s eyes were almost identical in shade and purity, a dark purple like the dye in his armor set. They glimmered, fueled by a child’s astonishment and wonder.

“Yes, we have the same eyes…” Gaius said

“That’s awesome!” she said, “I’ve never met someone like me before!”

It was a minor detail the shared, but Gaius could sense there was something deeper to it. Gaius found himself progressively more curious about Julia, about her origin and nature to be specific.

“Are you the creation of another being?” Gaius asked, “By that I mean, do you have a relationship of creator and created with some like I have with Minerva?”

“Creation?” she asked, “I wasn’t created… Unless you count being born as that…” her eyes squinted, “…. Wait, what did you say about Lady Minerva?”

“… I’m starting to understand…”

The important subject of his passage through time had been dropped for the moment. Julia wasn’t a player yet had the same magical talent as one. She wasn’t a created NPC yet had an extremally unnatural eye color for a human. She wore purple robes along with her light armor set, which could only imply she was important. Adding to it, the Alpha Lupus from before most likely referred to her he looked for, and all soldiers treat her as royalty.

“She’s not just your apprentice, is she?” asked Gaius, turning to Minerva, who looked deep in his eyes. Gaius remembered she never did see his face. The surprise in seeing her master and creator’s true appearance must have shocked her, and he completely disregarded it. He wondered what exactly her opinion on his appearance was to deserve such a long glance. As far as his complexion and facial features went, he tried to create the look of a proper Roman Emperor, taking many different historical sources as inspiration. It wasn’t all too different from his real self, apart from eye color. That fact made him quite confident and consequentially gave little thought to looks. All in all, as himself the judge, he looked very nice, or at least good enough to be pleasant to the eye.

She regained her composure, looking away as her ponytail flew, “… Never mind my lack of response.” She said, blinking many times “I was taken off-guard…” she smiled, “I supposed you do look like your brother, after all, Princeps.”

Gaius returned the positiveness, “Hopefully not too much.” He took the helmet off the map, throwing the wasted food away.

“… About Julia, well… “Minerva blinked heavily, “She’s the only surviving member of the Imperial Family as the first and only daughter born of Flavius.”

“… So, It’s that man’s daughter… Given the large time skip, I assume some usurper Dynasty of emperors took power once I was gone.”

“That wasn’t the case.” Minerva said, “The Divine Legion managed to secure the integrity of the Gaian line to this day, which I am very grateful to report.” She bowed her head slightly.

“The Gaian line? You mean my line?” Gaius asked.

“Certainly.”

Gaius reflected on what she meant. Had he fathered any bastard children with a concubine? He recalled back to his early days in the game where he indulged greatly in it before the novelty wears off. If any NPC’s did become pregnant, he would have been informed. In fact, he made sure he only ever did it with other races, with whom he, a human couldn’t bear children with. They were mostly succubus, along with some elves and others. He didn’t want any children back then, preferring full control of his creation’s design. If an heir grew into a degenerate, incompetent imbecile, he couldn’t simply get rid of him. All things considered, Gaius left no descendants, and so the existence of a line was impossible.

“That can’t be.” He said, “I left no heirs to establish a Dynasty.”

“You are correct.” She nodded, “It was a well-known fact you back then you never did produce any sons or daughters…”

“Well then, what is the connection between me and Julia that makes her my descendant?”

“She’s your niece.” Minerva said, “Your grand-grand-grand… niece, greatly abbreviating it.”

Gaius stood silent. Julia put her hands on the table, shouting “He’s my uncle!?”

“Don’t be rude.” Minerva told her, “Act befitting of your blood.”

“… B-But…” she glared at Gaius, sharing in his disbelieved stare, “… You mean, those stories you told me… Are actually…”

“When…” Gaius said, “… When was it Brunus fathered children? He never spoke of anything of the sort, nor any intent to…” he stroke his chin, “Was it during the Dragon Wars? Was it when he had remained in Rome at that time?”

“No Princeps, that wasn’t so. It wasn’t a line born of unofficial concubines, but a fully official marriage.”

“… He got married?” Gaius asked, not believing it at all, “With who?” he asked, followed by “When?” and “Where?”, and of course, “Why wasn’t I invited?”

For Brunus to have married was completely dubious. His position in the empire, and therefore the entire game was second only to Gaius’ emperorship. The prospect of his marriage would have attracted the attention of hundreds of thousands of players, NPCs and even those who didn’t play the game. For him not to have attended it, but not to have heard of it at all either from Brunus himself or anyone else was ridiculous.

“It was on the year five of the Imperial Calendar.” Minerva said, “His bride’s name escapes me, but she was a Roman born patrician and altogether proper wife to Lord Brunus. They were married in the Imperial Palace, and… “

“Year five…” he whispered. According to her, The Imperial Calendar was the time keeping date system which started the day Gaius returned to Rome and found the Laurel Wreath. By then, Brunus was no longer online.

“Brunus had left to the Unconquered Lands in the year zero, had he not?”

“He had.” She nodded, “However, shortly after I escorted you to your room, he graciously returned, and asked to see you.”

“… He came back!?” Gaius asked, letting his tension escape to outside. He remembered the footsteps from before he lost consciousness. Had it been truly Brunus? Had he really returned? Another piece fitted the puzzle of mysterious blocking his mind. In his mausoleum, there was that one pillar he couldn’t decipher the meaning off. If the body had been his own, then the man beside it must have been his brother. His eyes opened like a bucket of cold water was thrown in his back. The greatest of realizations infecting his head like a spreading disease.

“… Where is Brunus.” He asked, “Where is my brother?”

Minerva’s eyelids fell. She bit her lips and lowered her eyebrows, “… I’m sorry, Princeps…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, neither did she need to. Both knew the message had been given. Gaius broke off his stare, his head low and shoulders slumped.

“… No…” he protested, unable to keep it inside, “… Brunus…” he shook his head, clenching his fists and closing his eyes. Tears reached his pupils, reddening them into the shade of old wine. The drops fell on the table, Minerva and Julia just watching. After everything he nearly thought things couldn’t get worse, only to be proven so terribly wrong. Nothing else mattered all had lost meaning. The longest of silences set in, it’s tension unbreakable. All eyes were on him, and his eyes on another world. Another place, another time, another person. Brunus was dead, and with it all, he meant to Gaius. It was like getting part of himself tore away violently and thrown to the beyond. He was empty, broken and purposeless.

Gaius pulled off the table, getting off his chair. He did so with little energy, failing to muster any of his previous strength, “Don’t follow me.” He said, putting back his helmet. He walked off, distancing himself from the two. The soldier’s guarding the exit rushed out of the path, opening it quickly. Gaius passed by, and he was gone. None did anything about it but look and despair.

Once far enough, he got to an empty hall. The fires and leftovers of the siege having worn it out. He leaned on the wall, and broke down, crying. This Gaius could not bear. The tears dropped from his visor and neck. He was alone, and there was nothing that still remained within him.