Marius limped through the streets just on the other side of the gate. He waded through bodies strewn across the ground, across the spectrum of bloodied to dying, looking for a place to be able to rally what was left of his troops. They were rattled, and he could not blame them, as none had witnessed the thundering death the enemy wielded, nor anything bringing devastation on its level.

"We must bandage your wound, Commander Marius," the soldier under Marius' arm advised, motioning to Marius' still-bleeding leg. The centurion looked at the slash in his leg, his pain growing exponentially as his adrenaline waned.

"Quickly," Marius nodded, taking a seat on a trading cart left behind as the civilians had fled. The soldier took out a small vial and linens from a pouch from the back of his belt and poured the vial over the commander's thigh, stinging the wound like alcohol. Marius winced but knew the necessity as the trooper tightly wrapped the linens around his leg, adding more disinfectant as he progressed.

"Your name, soldier?" Marius asked, gritting his teeth and motioning to grab the alcohol to drink. The soldier obliged, giving him the vial to drink with a scowl.

"Balnor, sir," the soldier said, pinning the bandages into place and taking his vial back, stuffing it back into his belt pouch. "We fought together in York, you saved my life."

"I believe we shall call this even then, Balnor," Marius clapped the man on the shoulder. "You should tend to as many of the men as you can, these gates will not hold them at bay forever."

The soldier nodded, rushing to the aid of another lying on the ground, his hands full of blood as he held his gut together.

Marius rose to his feet, limping slightly as his eyes flashed across the disaster before him. He knew the enemy would not wait long to press their advantage, but the Fourteenth Legion was in no condition to fend off against those devastating weapons again. On the other side of the wall their weapons still filled the air with the sound of thunder, each crack flinching those still conscious enough to hear it.

On the ground, Marius saw a filthy red banner soaking in a muddied puddle attached to a long wooden rod. He lifted it, the meter-wide square banner with a white XIV painted on its front flapping raggedly. The remainder of the surviving men, beaten and bloodied, looked to their commander.

"Attention lads, we have suffered greatly this day," Marius' voice was steady, although his hand holding the standard tremored violently. He stilled himself, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. "We have lost many brothers, I will not deny that. You would not be at fault for thinking this day is lost. But brave men die once; a coward, a thousand times over. We have spilt their blood and we know they bleed as we do! We know they cannot best us without range, so we will take the range from them! Let all who wish to conquer Rome know that they stand in the face of the Fourteenth, and they will never break us!"

The men slowly rose to their feet, erupting in cheer. Bandaged, bloodied, dismembered, every soldier who could stand did, banging on their shields with their swords rhythmically as Marius rose the banner high.

"Take those too wounded to fight to the medicus in the forum," Marius shouted above the cacophony, pointing to a handful of able-bodied men. "Line the alleyways and just inside the buildings awaiting my orders. As soon as those savages come through the gates, we will make them wish they never came to challenge Rome!"

Lanius stood atop a small hill overlooking the battlefield between his army and the city walls. The field was littered with the dead, his Legion carrying their brothers' corpses to the rear of the army to be stripped of gear and given a proper send-off to the afterlife.

Lanius gritted his teeth with rage, not for the loss of his troops but for prolonging his day of conquest. He should be reveling in his victory at the dam, New Vegas would have been easy pickings. While this enemy tested his men they also tested his patience.

The sound of rushed approaching footsteps pulled the legate's attention away from the city, focusing on the coyote-hooded man approaching in the twilight of dusk.

"The howitzer is trained on the city, sir," the Frumentarii reported, flashing the Legion salute as he approached. "They only await your signal."

"Light the signal fire," Lanius said, turning his attention back to his prize. "I will give Caesar his Rome before midnight."

Fires crackled across the Legion's lines, each with their own huddle of men grouped around them, fanning the flames with dried cactus. Their fires were met with the thundering BOOM of a distant cannon firing. Seconds passed after the thunder before an explosion lit up the front gate of the city, cracking a massive hole in their shell. Lanius' Legion whooped and hollered as the bricks fell, showing a clear entrance to the impenetrable city.

"Go, make martyrs of their greatest warriors as we stomp out the setting sun with the might of the East!" Lanius shouted, the army lurching forward as they mobilized toward the massive city, raising machetes and torches to combat the growing darkness.

Lanius followed the troop from the rear, watching his troops flood into the city. He crossed the barrier himself, the streets eerily quiet. The only light illuminating the cobblestone streets coming from the Legion, casting long shadows on the surrounding buildings.

"They have pulled to the center of the city," a Frumentarii approached Lanius, pointing to bloody drag marks going deeper into the civilization.

"Split the Frumentarii, flush out any still in the outer city, they will hang from the walls to serve as a warning."

The man in the coyote hood saluted in response, but eyes suddenly went wide as an iron-headed pilum pierced through the front of his breastplate. Pila rained down on the Legion in the streets, coming from the buildings on either side. Few Legion soldiers were able to raise guns before the javelins found their targets. Lanius' head spun, javelins harmlessly pinging off of his breastplate as he surveyed his falling troops.

"Fire into the buildings!" Lanius shouted above the cacophony, raising as many downed soldiers to their feet as he could. As the pilum rain died down, the wasteland soldiers were able to pull their guns from their backs, raising the deadly barrels to either side of the street.

The first few rounds were fired, splintering wood and shattering stone of the second floor of buildings flanking the street. As the gunfire began, however, troops rushed from the alleys, shields raised high and swords swinging, lopping off arms and heads as the Romans flooded the darkened streets.

Lanius' teeth clenched in anger as he saw his men around him being fell, others starting to turn tail and flee the city. The Legate pulled his blade from his back, slashing violently and striking down Legion and Roman alike.

"Cowards!" Lanius shouted, decapitating one of his legionaries running for the city gate. His mouth foamed beneath his mask as the soldiers in red slowly encroached on him, forming an arena of shields surrounding the Legate as they slashed through the remaining wastelanders. "You will all feel Caesar's wrath as you rot upon the cross!"

Lanius stood alone atop a pile of corpses from both sides, spinning with his blade defensively in front of him. From the wall of shields emerged the trooper from the previous skirmish, only slightly limping from the encounter. He brandished a new shield, the remaining smoldering flames shining off his silver sword.

"Marius…" Lanius sneered, "you carry yourself still ready for battle. You are not the coward I thought you to be."

"Your lines are broken, Lanius," Marius retorted ensured in his victory as the remains of the Legion's army flooded back through the hole in the wall. "You will not taste victory this night, but it is not too late to leave with your life."

"Many graves in the East are filled with words such as yours," Lanius clenched his jaw. "If it is Caesar's will this gate to the West bear the flag of the Legion, Caesar's will shall be done, if I must hoist the flag myself atop the corpses of all of your men."

"You need not do this, I am giving you a chance to retreat."

Lanius shook his head, gripping his massive blade even tighter.

"A true Legionary does not retreat. Your body will hang nailed to the walls of your mighty city facing west, so you may watch your world die." Lanius swung his blade, answered by Marius' deft roll. The Roman's blade slashed at the Legate's leg, glancing off with sparks briefly illuminating the two combatants in the heat of battle.

The battle raged on, each soldier trading blows to no great effect. The light from remaining torches began to die out, but the surrounding legionaries took up their own lights to cast an orange glow on the circular battlefield.

The blade rose once again, helicoptering through the air. Marius ducked just in time, the sharpened edge trimming off the top inch of his red-haired plume. As the blade passed over his head Marius thrust his sword through the abdominal portion of his opponent's armor.

Lanius' golden armor screeched as the sword penetrated, blood flowing freely from the deep wound, but the Legate himself did not flinch. He freed one of his hands from his sword, reaching out and grabbing Marius by the neck. He reeled back his own head, headbutting the centurion to the ground. Marius staggered to his knee, his helmet flying from his head, blood flowing from a fresh gash in his brow.

"Take pride that you are a great warrior," Lanius coughed, towering above the downed soldier once more. "You face an honorable death this night."

Marius wordlessly stared fiercely up at the masked man, peering into the black abyssal eye holes of the visage of Mars. Lanius raised his sword once more, ready to swing down to split the Roman in half, a few surrounding legionaries letting out a breath of fear.

Marius' muscles tensed as he shot upward, throwing his blade through the base of the Legate's exposed neck, exploding out the top of his helm. Lanius' hands loosened on his blade, his sword slipping through his fingers and clashing to the ground.

The Roman commander let go of his blade as well, Lanius falling backwards pulling the blade with his braindead corpse. The street was silent spare the crackling of the torches and Marius' heavy breathing.

"Marius! Savior of Rome!" a cry sounded through the crowd. The soldiers erupted into cheer as they raised their swords into the air, surrounding their commander.

"Rome will not fall as long as I breath," Marius choked out, the wounds of his battle finally taking their hold. He pointed downwards to his fallen enemy, blood pooling around the well-armored corpse. "Display his body in the highest place you can find. When they come again they will see him as a warning and run, Rome will rise again in this unknown land."

Marius fell back to the ground in rest, eyes focused upwards as the moon shone brightly upon another night in Rome.

Winner: Marius Titus