Rome had been destined to fall.

Its decadence started long before its eventual fall at the hand of Odoacer. Its people were morally bankrupt, its economy slowly dying despite reforms.

She had faced the hordes of barbarians, of those seeking to destroy the very heart of European civilization after the great Greeks themselves. She had survived.

She had faced the Crisis of the Third Century and barely survived, thanks to the great Aurelian, the Restitutor Orbis...

Then, she faced the decadence of her Emperors' will, of the stock of good leaders and generals...

Yes, Rome had been destined to fall...

Until he came.

Almost two centuries after Aurelian had been murdered by the hand of his Praetorian Guard, he came. A great grandson and a general during the turbulent times of Odoacer's invasion. He was the beacon that shone when Rome needed him most. He was the true heir of the Restitutor. His family would be the next Emperors and Empresses of Rome. His reforms to the military and territory would bring Rome's strength in Italia together, saving mighty Mother Rome from a disgrace worse than her razing, at the cost of much of her Eastern and Western lands.

Now, in 1935, a new threat arises. And perhaps a new opportunity, as the rest of Europe squabbles over the negotiation table.

An opportunity of Resurgence, through a new Gate.

And thus, we can say that The Roman Legions Fought Here.

Rome, Province of Italia

9th of September, 1935

The Solar Celebration

From within the Imperial Palace, presiding over the crowd of gathered Plebes and Patricians of Italia, the next in the generation of the Aurelian Family, Lucius Domitius Aurelian the Second, descendant of the mighty Restitutor Orbis of the Imperium Romanum, a young man soon to be crowned as the Emperor, regarded the military parade in honor of his great ancestors. Clad in their standard parade attire, the Roman Segmentata armor sets, banners raised high, Legionnaires of Legio IX, Hispana marched down the great main boulevard, to cheers.

Behind them, Legio IV, Ferrata rolled forward, manning the armored chariots provided to them so kindly by the great people of the New World, rolled forward, waving to the civilians and nobility of Rome. The grand, towering villas and buildings provided shade from the dimming sun and still-scorching heat that permeated the start of Autumn across Europa.

"Ah, brother," Spoke a young woman in pure Latin. Aurelian, a young, black-haired boy with muddy green eyes, looked back to his younger sister, Ulpia. She was a spitting image of their mother, a short, thin-framed, athletic girl with the same color eyes and hair as him. She also wore a smile on her face as she walked up to the balcony from which her brother regarded the march of the Legions. The woman, a 17-year-old barely out of their education system's best schools, wore what looked to be a more modern, standard uniform. She was to be in command of the great military hospitals of the Roman Army.

"Sister," He greeted her with a small smile and a nod, before turning to face the parade once more, "How do you feel today?"

"Much better than yesterday, thank Sol," The girl replied. Ah, yes, despite Christianity's and, more specifically, Catholicism's hold on Roman religious beliefs nowadays, the children of the Aurelian Bloodline(and their spouses) still prayed to God and knew him as Sol Invictus, the true unification of all the qualities of the great Gods of the Ancient Pantheon. Similarly, Christ was seen as his messenger and son, to comply with their Christian brethren.

"Then the medicine we bought from our allies in Australia, the Penicillin, has worked," He nodded calmly.

"It has, even in its experimental stage," The girl nodded, "How about you? Do you feel ready to welcome the title of Imperator?"

He snorted, "I would not be an Aurelian if I was not ready, good sister... And what better time than after the celebrations of our great heroes and ancestors?"

"Indeed," She nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face, then she hummed and smiled, "It will be strange... Having to refer to you as Emperor."

"We are still family. In private, you may refer to me as your brother still," He answered, assuaging the young woman's little moment of fear for now. She smiled at him, then bumped him on his shoulder plate with her fist, though lightly. Even if she had been punching hard, the most she would have done is minimally dent his own, highly-decorated armor set, meant to be for after the Celebration, for his coronation.

"That... Reminds me..." She squinted, casting a sideways glance at her older brother, "Mother keeps asking of you... Have you found a spouse? No Roman Emperor should go without a wife."

The Roman boy raised his hands defensively and said, "I am still seeking... It is not an easy feat, quite honestly."

She narrowed her eyes further, staring straight into his own as if she was sizing him up. With another half-sigh, the girl shrugged, "As you say, brother. You've disregarded three suitors so far, however. Any more and you may not have whom to pick... I did really like that Elizabeth girl, from Britannia Maxima. She seemed to be a hearty young one... Plus, a unification with the Windsors would have brought much of our old pre-Reform territories back... And many more new ones."

"Sister, dare your brother ask you to think of him, not as a machine, but as a man who seeks love instead of political reasons to marry, even as Emperor?" He raised a brow, staring at the young woman with surprise that she would even suggest a simple political marriage. She chuckled at her brother's reaction, surely aware that what she had suggested was a bit... Rude...

"I spoke in jest, of course, brother. We still have much of North Africa under our control, despite the Francs' continuous demands that we surrender the territory," She stated, then mumbled, looking away, "I did really like Liz, though... She was nice..."

"French..." Sighed the man, "Cannot live with them..."

"Cannot really subjugate them today," Chuckled the girl, "Alas..."

"Why do I feel you should have joined the Imperial Military Academy's officer courses instead of simply focusing on the medical aspects?" The man raised a brow, "With that kind of thinking, you would've made a fine general, of course, provided Roman bureaucracy would even allow it," He shrugged. There had been reforms pushed by the so-called 'Suffragettes' to allow female fighters in the Legions. And officers, too, unsurprisingly. That was still under consideration, but at least they'd passed the Senatorial Laws to give them some degree of power, thus easing them and their people into any future changes.

He sighed, regarding the Legions once more. The hammer of their footsteps was now joined by the drone of aircraft engines. High above them, locally-produced fighters and bombers formed squadrons as they flew over the capital, bearing the great war banners of Rome. He listened to the stomping boots, to the drone of aircraft engines and the sound of their tanks rolling ever-forward, his mind fading out for a moment as the mathematical beauty of it all came to him. His home stood before him. Soon, those would be his armies, preparing for the squabbles of European powers, to intervene in defense of their home lands against the barbaric Germans if the need arose again.

He only snapped out of it as he heard an explosion. Above, high, he saw them. Ancient beasts like those of legend, flying lizards, met Rome's squadrons, few of which had any loaded munitions in their open-topped monoplanse' machine guns and cannons. Two planes crashed right in the square as the people scattered, seeking shelter in the Forum and the buildings around.

The Military, to its credit, was responding. Beasts of nightmares marched alongside human soldiers clad in armor far too similar to their own for coincidence. These soldiers bore similar scutums to the ancient Armies of the Roman Empire too, but colored a deep purple instead of the hard red of old. The Military Police first met these men, their own shields made of steel plates forming a line against the charging horde.

Aurelian growled, then said "Sister, get mother and our youngest brother to cover... I shall go guide the men!"

"Take care of yourself," She nodded, "I will bring the Guards as soon as I can."

"Stay with mother. That is an order," He replied, drawing his own sword. Though ceremonial, his Gladius had been passed down from Aurelian to Aurelian and refurbished to be wielded even in today's day and age. Its edge was as sharp as ever, with the grip and pommel reinforced with steel and new furniture, bearing the symbols of the Aurelain family and the handguard, the Imperial Eagle.

Descending the stairs and entering the Forum square itself, where most of the Military Police had formed up, pistols and rifles drawn, while the Legions rejoined ranks and were brought ammunition, Aurelian demanded of his general, "General Cestus! Report!"

"The enemy emerged out of some form of foreign gate, sire," Reported the man, a blonde-haired half-German World War 1 Veteran with dark eyes, racking the slide of his automatic pistol, a Colt-1911 license-produced in Italia's own armament factories, "It just appeared in the middle of Victory Square and spewed out the enemy's forces. Your orders?" the man paused, only for the two of them to witness a mounted enemy soldier slash one of their Civilians across the back with his sword as she fled.

With a low growl, the soon-to-be-Emperor ordered, "Scour them from our land, general! Form lines, ready our troops, bring out the aircraft and kill them all!"

"Understood! Radioman, forward!" He ordered as Aurelian watched the enemy cavalryman and his unit charging them. He stepped through the line of shields made by the Military Police, staring down the charging cavalry. He stopped in front of the formation, watching as the leading man of the enemy formation made it within spitting distance of him, before he pounced, plunging deep the tip of the Gladius of the Aurelian family into the man's chest, knocking him off his horse and onto the ground, painting the paved road below with his blood.

He removed the blade from the enemy's chest with a sickening sound, in front of the stunned enemy cavalry, then, with his heart full of rage, he pointed the bloody Gladius forward and ordered his men, those who had ammunition, "KILL THEM ALL! FIRE AT WILL!"

With little hesitation, the MPs opened fire with submachine-guns and Pistols from behind their shields. Rounds whistled past the Roman prince, punching into thin plate armor and through wooden shields as the enemy struggled to form a defense. Blood washed the street to Victory Square. Raising his sword, Aurelian ordered forth his troops as the Legions came, fully armed and loaded now. The thunder of a warhorn echoed and the drone of a thousand engines drowned out the screams of civilian and foe alike as aircraft and armored motor chariots arrived into the city.

Above, Aeronautica Romana monoplane fighters lit the sky with tracers, passing through the columns of smoke that these black dragons the enemy rode into battle had wrought. High-caliber machine-gun and auto-cannon rounds sheared armor plate and dragon-scale, sending the creatures and their riders tumbling into the ground. A deluge of machine-gun fire raked the streets where the enemy's army had emerged, fighters and strikers diving in for their prey like hungry eagles.

Aurelian led the marching Legions IX and II toward the enemy's position, while his generals and troops coordinated with the Air Force and them to pincer and pin the enemy down where they'd arrived. Aurelian stepped over the corpses of the enemy's dead, carefully sidestepping those of their own dead civilians, plebe and alike, showing much more respect to their own dead.

He watched as a humanoid pig charged him, raising its club to strike him down. He dodged, thrust the blade into its chest and cut down, splitting its belly open and letting it fall to the ground. One of his troopers put a bullet in its skull to make sure it was dead. Fury burned in the young man's eyes as he and several thousand of Rome's best marched in the defense of the motherland.

Above him, Aircraft swept in, guns thundering, spent casings falling into the bloody streets as the Roman military showed no mercy and gave no respite to the foe. Blades and guns sang in unison as shields halted arrow and enemy sword. Enemy cavalry was bled dry of men within the first few proper minutes of the engagement. Their Auxiliary Humanoid monster units followed soon, shot by round and stabbed by Roman steel.

The young boy's troops soon linked up with the rest of the Roman Army's forces that now arrived in the city with ammunition, including Legio IV Ferrata. Its tanks' .30 caliber Machine Guns let loose a stream of rounds as the infantry marched behind them. They wouldn't dare unleash cannon fire on the foe unless specifically directed to do so by Aurelian and their Generals.

"They try to flee!" Cestus laughed as he pointed at the enemy's retreating cavalry remnants, while the enemy infantry formed a shield wall. The boy hummed, knowing full-well they were approaching the square. The advance had been lightning, just like the enemy's vile surprise attack. Soon, the boulevard opened up into the massive Forum area of the Victory Square, where the statues of Aurelian, of Hadrian and of the other great Emperors of ancient times had been defaced in the first step of the attack.

"Is the square free of Civilians?" He asked, looking around at the corpses of their people littering the ground with a hint of sadness in the flowing sea of anger in his heart.

"Yes."

"Do our bombers have anti-infantry incendiaries loaded?"

"Yes..."

"Halt the Legions... Burn the enemy where he stands."

"Yes, sire."

One radio message was all that it had taken. Flying low, the close-air-support bombers belonging to the Aeronautica brought in their payload. Three massive canisters laden with High-Explosive munitions and flammable fuels were dropped. Three lines of cleansing fire scoured through the enemy's lines within the blink of an eye. Napalm burned, melting the square's center and the enemy troops within it.

Any who survived the initial detonations, but remained aflame, were let to burn by the order of Aurelian. He regarded those he damned to this slow, painful death with disgust, cleaning the bloodied blade of his ancestors on an untouched corpse, before sheathing it in the decorated scabbard. The time it would take to repair even the damage done would be long.

Several months, in fact. It had taken the Romans several months to repair their city and bury the thousand dead from this incursion, plus the twenty thousand corpses of man and monster alike left by the enemy, which they'd burned with disregard, leaving nothing but a pile of ash outside the walls of their home city. Civilians and soldiers alike mourned their dead and lost to this strange foe, while the alien artifact, the Gate, lay under the watchful eye of the Legio Ferrata and their armored vehicles.

The whole world had heard of the Gate Event, as it had been called by the European news agencies. Some offered help. Others offered volunteers. Many offered weapons, ammunition and supplies for Rome when they'd heard of the fact the Romans were going to enter the Gate in early December. Indeed, the Americans sent forth a Legion of troops, armed and armored, to join them.

Aurelian had welcomed them with open arms. He had sat in talks with president Roosevelt about the Volunteer force, now organized into the First Foreign Legion. Legio Aliena I "Pax Americana". Roman descendants from days past that had left for the Americas alongside the British in the early days. Following the talks and the formation of the Volunteer Foreign Legions, Aurelian's next big moment had come.

At his coronation as Imperator, a million of the Empire's men and women, Plebe or Patrician, it didn't matter, attended, with representatives from all nations allied to great Rome herself, including Spain, Yugoslavia, Romania, Greece and Poland. Their cheers and the sounds of the gun salutes of their artillery company brought him into the realization that, indeed, he had been officiated, despite the postponement, as the new Emperor.

Now, he presided over thirteen gathered Legions, soldiers lined up in the guarded square from which the vile enemy had come through. Twelve other Legions would remain in Rome, with the subunits known as Auxiliary Units, of over half the size of normal legions, numbering twice the guards left behind. Indeed, Aurelian The Second presided over the greatest Army Rome had gathered since Hadrian's purge of Judea.

On his left, lay the refurbished helmet and death mask of his grandiose ancestor, Aurelian the First. He stared out at the Legions ahead of him as the first snow of December began to fall over the peninsula, several microphones in front of him on the podium, so that all corners of Rome's dwindling might may hear his proclamation. He had elected not to say anything after his coronation, instead keeping it for today. The Day of Vengeance. He would not waste his words, nor mince them. He had one message for his troops and his people.

"Legions!" He roared. Many thousand boots slammed together and a thousand fists rose into the sky in the Roman Salute. He continued, his voice reverberating across the cities of Italia and North Africa, "It has been barely three months since the slaughter that shook the very Earth around us. The day this unknown foe and its strange creatures marched into our Holy City and started indiscriminately killing our people! We know not the reason, for none of the vile bastards or their monstrous slaves survived to speak of it!"

The disgruntled mumbling of an entire Army echoed across the place. He settled them down with a raised hand, then continued "Let this not dishearten you, however. I know many of you have lost loved ones to this attack... Many more, guards of Rome, have lost comrades in arms who were on leave. That the foe would dare attack us at the peak of our celebrations for the lives of our ancestors and of Sol Invictus, of God, is incomprehensible."

"Nay!" His sister stepped up, "It is unforgivable!" She roared.

Her brother nodded as the cheers of the soldiers ahead echoed. Once again, he settled the bloodlust-filled soldiers of his Empire... Heh... With a single wave of his hand, "So let this be the message we shall send to the world! That no foe may step foot onto Rome's holy roads and not be greeted in kind by her defenders!" Louder, the men cheered, "Show the world, soldiers of Rome, SHOW IT AS WE MARCH INTO THE ENEMY'S LAND, THAT WE WILL NOT FORGIVE TRANSGRESSION!" Even more cheers, "That we will NOT give way and surrender! THAT ROME HAS ENDURED TWO THOUSAND YEARS AND THAT SHE SHALL ENDURE TEN THOUSAND MORE, NO MATTER THE THREAT!"

"WE ARE ROME! WE ARE CIVILIZATION! WE ARE THE CRADLE OF EUROPE HERSELF!" He roared, proudly "AND WE! WILL! PREVAIL!"

"AVE AURELIAN! AVE SOL, DEUS, ET ROMA INVICTA!" Cried the soldiery, raising high firearms, blades and shields in salute.

The man went down the stairs of the podium, mounting his armored horse like a hero from tales of yore, then said "Open the Gate! I and my generals shall lead the men into battle against the treasonous bastards!" before watching as his sister came to his side. She extended the decorated helmet and mask to him and smiled, before giving him a prideful Roman Salute and taking a step back. He turned to the gate as his soldiery pushed it open, before putting the helmet and mask on. He looked to one of his banner-bearers and nodded as the Gate fully opened, emanating an eerie blue light from the inside. Said banner-bearer lifted a horn and sounded it in a ceremonial Call To Arms for the men.

The drums and trumpets of War sang once more, calling the enemy's own Requiem.

Roma Invicta Aeterna.