Julius cursed over and over again, using the names of all the gods he could remember, from Jupiter to Apollo. Why had he woken up in the most isolated corner of this accursed place, wherever this place was? Now his crippled leg was in agony and there was nobody to help him. Gripping his leg in pain, he looked around. The place he was in had Roman architecture but it seemed foreign to him. He felt a kind of pull towards it; he knew it was Roman but he didn't recognise it. And yet, he felt he should.

He desperately searched the ground for his cane. Without the slender piece of wood, he was practically useless. To his relief, he spotted it lying on the ground a few metres away. Unfortunately, it was too far away for him to reach. He strained for a few moments, before deciding he was going to have to suck it up and crawl. This, however, failed, and a few minutes later, he was found attempting to drag himself across the ground by a couple of soldiers.

One of the soldiers, a legionary, folded his arms and smirked down at him. "Are you a man or a sack of potatoes? I'm confused."

"Shut up, Cassius," Julius said in frustration. When both of the soldiers simply watched him struggle, he snapped, "Are either of you idiots going to help me?"

The other legionary, Rufus, blinked as if just waking up. He went over to Julius's cane, picked it up, and placed it within Julius's reach. "THANK you, Rufus," Julius said pointedly, glaring at Cassius, who shrugged.

"Hey, I fight bad people. I don't babysit."

Julius scowled and managed to drag himself to his feet using his cane. "Do either of you know why we're all suddenly alive again?"

"Sure, let me just consult the book of strange, unearthly happenings and skip to the chapter on coming back from the dead two thousand years after death."

Julius considered hitting Cassius in the gut with his cane, but he figured there'd be plenty of time for that later. "Is there anyone else alive?"

Cassius opened his mouth but Rufus, who had apparently also had enough, nudged him. "Please do not reply with sarcasm," he said. "Julius is not the only one becoming annoyed by it."

Cassius shrugged and stepped back. "I wasn't going to, but fine. In answer to your question, yes: everybody's in the square."

"And…" Julius paused, his heart filling with hope. "And Octavius?"

"General Octavius is fine," Cassius replied. "He's currently attempting to gauge the situation in the square."

"I have to find him." Julius leant hard on his cane as he began to try and walk through the stinging pain in his leg. "I have to make sure he's okay."

"Last time I looked, he was barking out random orders like usual."

Julius glared at Cassius. "Don't you dare speak ill of your general."

"He's your general too," Cassius retorted sullenly.

"But he's also Julius's third cousin," added Rufus.

"And I'm also the only person who can talk back to him without fear of repercussion," Julius added. "Which reminds me: leave the sarcasm to me from now on, Cassius. It doesn't suit someone of your rank."

Cassius hissed and stepped back another step. Rufus bit his lip, half amused, half worried. Julius smirked. "How's that?" he shot at the legionary.

"You don't have a rank, really," snapped Cassius. "You're not even a legionary."

"At least I'm not replaceable," Julius shot back.

"Sir!" snapped Rufus.

Feeling proud of himself for thinking of such a quick and scathing comeback, Julius glanced at Rufus's face and that proud feeling quickly evaporated as he remembered that Rufus was also a legionary. "I'm sorry," he said genuinely. "But I can't say I didn't mean it."

Rufus nodded but he still seemed angry. "Thank you for not lying about that. But you're wrong: we're not replaceable."

"He is. You're not," Julius said. "Do you know why? Because you're a loyal, respectful, obedient, and skilled soldier. The army needs more people like you. Cassius, unfortunately, has only one of those qualities."

"Hey!" Cassius snapped.

"Come on, I just called you skilled," Julius said airily. "Anyway, insulting you was not my intention, Rufus. I am sorry."

"I forgive you," Rufus said, though he still didn't look too happy. "And thank you for speaking so highly of me."

Julius began hobbling in the direction of the square, beckoning for Rufus to join him, which the legionary did, leaving the angry Cassius behind. "Octavius thinks highly of you, you know," Julius said. "Like I said, you're loyal, obedient, and respectful. Only very few soldiers have all three of those qualities."

"Thank you, sir," Rufus said. His face then turned more serious and he decided to ask the question on his mind when it was apparent that Julius was not going to mention it. "Why are we alive? What brought us back?"

"That's what I'm hoping Octavius can answer," sighed Julius. "Poor man. He's probably getting bombarded by thousands of similar questions, but people are scared. People need answers. And people think that such respected and powerful generals like Octavius can provide answers, even if they're just as uninformed as the people."

"Do you think everyone has come back to life?" pressed Rufus. "Or just-."

"Legionary Rufus, I really don't know," Julius snapped, causing Rufus to step back with a scowl. "Stop asking me questions to which I don't know the answers."

"I am sorry, sir," Rufus said, the last word sounding rather forced.

Julius grumpily limped away, leaning perhaps a bit too heavily on his cane. He knew he should really have paid more attention to learning how to walk without his cane but the truth was that he didn't want to learn how to walk without his cane. If he was being completely honest with himself, people took him more seriously as a crippled strategist than they ever would as an able soldier.

Even though Julius had told Rufus he was not replaceable, Julius had the rather gloomy outlook on life that everybody was replaceable, except Octavius. If Julius had not been hit by that stampeding horse when he was a child and become crippled, he was sure he would have remained a legionary for his entire military career. Octavius had taken pity on him after his accident, promoting him to Junior Tribune. This meant that Julius was able to make and chart maps, take notes, write reports, and devise strategies without ever having to go into battle. He was still useful—debatably more useful than if he were a legionary—and he was still contributing to the Roman Empire without actually having to fight.

And it was all thanks to Octavius.