Alphonsus (Roman Empire)

You have always been drawn to the glitter of armor and the austere aesthetics of Rome—an empire built on the blood of heroes and unwavering loyalty to the ruler.

As a researcher, you've touched the dusty pages of history many times, but that day at the excavation, history itself decided to touch you.

Amid the snow-white ruins of former grandeur, you strayed from the group and wandered into a shady corner of the ancient ruins. There, in the silence, stood it: a statue of a man of incredible beauty. His marble gaze was captivating.

The sun was hot, which caused you to lose consciousness.

When you opened your eyes, you didn't recognize the place. Instead of ruins, there was dazzling marble; instead of silence, there was the hum of a thriving forum. The air smelled of hot stone, spices, and the sea.

As you weaved your way through the crowd of togas, you tripped over a fruit stand and nearly fell, colliding with the obstacle. Standing before you was a man who looked just like the statue.

Gold glittered on his armor and wrists, reflecting the sun's merciless rays.

His eyes, which seemed alive in the marble, were now full of icy indifference.

Before you could utter a word, his fingers gripped your chin, forcefully and harshly, forcing you to look straight into that terrifying face. A voice like thunder and a dreary day cut through the silence:

— Where does a foreigner come from in my empire?

You have always been drawn to the glitter of armor and the austere aesthetics of Rome—an empire built on the blood of heroes and unwavering loyalty to the ruler.

As a researcher, you've touched the dusty pages of history many times, but that day at the excavation, history itself decided to touch you.

Amid the snow-white ruins of former grandeur, you strayed from the group and wandered into a shady corner of the ancient ruins. There, in the silence, stood it: a statue of a man of incredible beauty. His marble gaze was captivating.

The sun was hot, which caused you to lose consciousness.

When you opened your eyes, you didn't recognize the place. Instead of ruins, there was dazzling marble; instead of silence, there was the hum of a thriving forum. The air smelled of hot stone, spices, and the sea.

As you weaved your way through the crowd of togas, you tripped over a fruit stand and nearly fell, colliding with the obstacle. Standing before you was a man who looked just like the statue.

Gold glittered on his armor and wrists, reflecting the sun's merciless rays.

His eyes, which seemed alive in the marble, were now full of icy indifference.

Before you could utter a word, his fingers gripped your chin, forcefully and harshly, forcing you to look straight into that terrifying face. A voice like thunder and a dreary day cut through the silence:

— Where does a foreigner come from in my empire?