Page 62 of Thawed Gladiator: Victor

“Is he…” Maya starts to ask, but Lucius has already moved on, sitting a few feet away from the group where he can observe everything.

More of my brothers filter in as morning progresses. Each brings his own reaction to my return—Rurik’s booming laugh, Flavius’s rapid-fire talk as he pesters Maya with questions about the modern fighting world, Quintus’s quiet nods of understanding. The conversations switch fluidly between Latin and English, translation devices making communication seamless.

A flash of movement through the windows catches my eye. Sulla, standing apart as always, watching the gathering with an expression I’ve never seen on his face before. Not the cruel calculation of ourludusdays, but something more complex. When he notices my attention, he doesn’t sneer or look away. Instead, he offers a slight nod before disappearing around the building’s corner.

“That’s new,” Varro murmurs, following my gaze. “He’s been… different since waking. Not completely changed, but…”

“Time shifts all things,” I reply, remembering Father’s teachings about how even the hardest stone can be transformed by patient waves.

Laura discusses security measures and sanctuary protocols, but I find my attention drawn to Maya. She’s listening intently, but I see the uncertainty she tries to hide.

Being dropped into this world of brother gladiators and ancient bonds must feel as overwhelming as when I awoke to a world of hot running water and giant mechanical beasts that moved faster than the most expensive horses.

As if reading my thoughts, she squeezes my hand under the table. Her strength amazes me—facing everything from corporate hunters to time-lost warriors with unwavering courage.

“The training area is yours whenever you’re ready,” Varro says, drawing me back to the conversation. “We’ve combined traditional methods with modern equipment. Perhaps…” He glances at Maya. “Perhaps you have techniques to share.”

The inclusion of Maya in this offer feels thunderous. I see similar acceptance in the others’ expressions—they understand she’s not just my savior but my partner in all things—and a warrior, a modern-day gladiatrix in some aspects.

A commotion at the door interrupts whatever response I might have made. Franky enters—dusty from the stables, but with an expression clearer than I’ve ever seen.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, unusual humility in his voice. “But I needed to ask… that is…” He straightens, visibly gathering courage. “I know I have no right, after everything.” He shrugs as his mouth quirks up on one side. “But this place, what you’re building here… I’d like to help. To be useful, if you’ll have me.”

The words cost him—I see it in how his hands clench, fighting the urge to pull at his collar or bargain or run. For perhaps the first time in his life, he’s asking for something without trying to scheme his way into it.

Maya’s sharp intake of breath beside me speaks volumes. She’s seen her father talk his way into and out of countless situations, but this naked honesty is new.

Varro and Laura exchange glances. “The sanctuary offers second chances to those who truly seek them,” Laura says carefully. “But trust must be earned.”

“I understand.” Franky nods, and for once, he doesn’t try to press his advantage or make promises he can’t keep. “I’ll keep helping Diana with the horses for now. She says I have a good eye for their moods.”

After he leaves, I feel Maya relax slightly beside me. “That’s… different,” she whispers.

“He begins to see beyond himself,” Lucius observes from his corner, those pale eyes missing nothing. “As we all must, in time.”

The morning light strengthens as we continue discussing sanctuary life. Through the windows, I see Sulla walking the perimeter, his stance different from ourludusdays—less predatory, more watchful. Protection rather than threat.

“He’s lately taken to the business of protecting our sanctuary,” Varro says, noting my attention. “Things change. Not always quickly, not always completely. But they change.”

“Sometimes even for the better,” Thrax jokes from beside his woman, Skye. I understand she created the translators that allow us to interact with this new world we’ve dropped into.

Maya’s fingers interlock with mine as conversations flow around us. Brothers reunited, a father seeking redemption, a sanctuary offering new beginnings to wounded souls.

The path ahead still holds dangers—corporate hunters circling, pharmaceutical companies regrouping, the weight of two thousand years to reconcile.

But here, in this moment, I feel something I haven’t known since I parted from my father: the sense of belonging not just to a place or a brotherhood, but to a future worth building.

Maya leans closer, her warrior’s strength and tender heart continuing to amaze me. “Welcome home,” she whispers.

Home. Yes. Not just the sanctuary or the brotherhood, but wherever this remarkable woman and I face life together.

The morning sun paints the hall in shades of hope as we begin planning our new life. Outside, modern security systems guard ancient warriors while horses stamp in modern stables. Everything here bridges past and present, just as Maya and I bridge two worlds.

I absently wonder who named this place Second Chance. It’s already proving to be true.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Damian

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