Italia

2,597 years since initial death
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It still wasn't over.

As always, after every death, Markus woke up alive in the same spot sometime later. He could breathe, he could blink, and more importantly; he could move. The wooden stake in his leg had broken off somehow, and he was completely uninjured. The time was hard to tell, as the sky was still dark, but his surroundings suggested this was the worst possible time to reawaken.

Off in the gloomy horizon was a familiar sight. It reminded him of Egypt and its terrible sandstorms. But what he witnessed was different. Rather than an orange wall of dust and debris rampaging towards him, it was black. This dark bubbling embrace engulfed everything that lay before it, speeding furiously in a scene of cataclysmic destruction.

At the speed it was traveling, it's impossible to outrun it. The pyroclastic flow of volcanic gas was going to annihilate him and finally crumble the last bit of surviving Roman architecture to utter dust. All he could do was simply accept his imminent fate.

With all his strength, Markus had stood back up and looked towards the sky. Somewhere above him, the Gods watched him in return. They were mocking him. Sitting atop their thrones in the heavens above, they laughed as they readied themselves to watch him perish in agony once more.

He then turned his attention back at his impending doom. There was no use in fighting back. His fingers twitched before he clenched them tight and formed a fist. Slowly, his vision was beginning to fade. It wasn't because of the smoke around him, or the nearby flow. His own mind was twisting in a way he had not experienced in a horribly long time.

It was happening to him again. Only this time, it was somehow worse.

His consciousness was slipping, rendering his vision blurry. However, he began to move forward. A wild melody of emotions rang throughout his mind, some of which beat against his skull. It was so infuriating, causing him to grunt as he continued to walk. His eyes were fixed straight ahead. 

Everything was taken from him in a single day. It rendered his entire life useless as if every event leading up to this moment had been for nothing. He was defeated by the forces of nature once more. But he wasn't willing to accept his defeat this time. Every man has a limit. In this case, his limit has been exceeded by an ungodly amount.

His lips parted against his own control, forcing him to speak with no one.

"Are you amused? Watching me from your temple in the clouds, you all just sit by and observe my death. I have single handedly traveled the path of a thousand generations, yet you still mock me? You've taken away my wife and my son, my whole entire life has been nothing but a waste! Do you take me for a fool?!"

The landscape ahead continued to darken as the world beneath him began to shake once more. "I defy you all! You don't bear the decency to face a man before his own demise, what sort of Gods are you? Come and face me! My death is only imminent, reveal yourselves and speak! Are you all that cowardly?"

A devastating gust of wind nearly blew him back, but his undying strength pushed forward. "No, perhaps not. You're not cowards, nor are any of you courageous. You are no different from your Greek counterparts. Would you like to know why? It is quite simple, I assure you. You do not exist!"

As if on cue, he heard the unmistakable sound of thunder from behind. But he wasn't planning on stopping just yet. "I've existed long before any of you were nothing but mere thoughts trapped inside the minds of fools! I witnessed your creation, and I shall soon witness your downfall! I seek my true creator who cursed me, and it's none of you frauds!"

His clenched fists shook with absolute rage. A red hue began to resonate from him as the wind spiraled around his body. He noticed it, but he chose not to question it. He simply continued forward. Every step from his feet was powerful enough to crack and rumble the ground beneath him.

"Have you any idea how long I have lived for? There was once a time when I never could have imagined taking away a single man's life, but look at me now. I don't recognize myself anymore, I don't know who I am. How many have I killed? How many lives have I ruined because of my brutality? I never wanted this! Do you understand what you've done to me? You forced me down this path!"

His time had run out. With less than a minute to spare, the flow had finally arrived. "Before I die again, I only have one question. This question is for whoever cursed me, and I seek just one answer."

Markus stopped. He spread his arms out as he continued to tremble. Just as he was about to ask, he froze. His eyes snapped and remained fixed on a crumbling marble pillar ahead. It collapsed dramatically, a fire from behind spread around it and engulfed the debris in flames. But that wasn't all. There was something behind it. He could see it poking its head. Markus wasn't alone anymore.

From behind the pillar, a golden lion stepped forward. Its majestic body was glowing just like Markus, emitting a scarlet aura from its yellow fur. The fierce eyes of the lion were blood-red, hypnotically staring directly towards Markus with a thousand-yard glare that sent the coldest shiver down his spine. With sharpened claws, each step it took penetrated the ground.

Then it stopped.

Markus lost his train of thought momentarily, displaying his fear. He's always hated these creatures, but why was it here? It didn't charge nor attack, but it simply watched him back. His nerves twitched, and he set his anxiety aside. Perhaps this was the beast responsible for his curse. If that's the case, then this was the perfect opportunity to ask his question. So, through gritted teeth, he suddenly unleashed a powerful scream of veritable rage that was louder than the destruction unfolding before him.

"Have I not suffered enough?!"

Instantly, his voice was silenced as the black flow engulfed him. If anyone had possibly managed to survive the eruption, they would have certainly died from the flow.

But inside the apocalyptic flow, a small light was still present within the darkness. He was not dead yet. His body glowed red vibrantly, showcasing his sin's color. His feet no longer touched the ground. Markus had risen into the air out of pure will. The flow crashed against him at violent speeds, but nothing seemed to faze him.

Markus simply hovered in the air as his blood-red hue glowed ever so brightly. Despite his eyes being wide open, the flow couldn't force them shut. A part of him knew what was happening, and what terrified him the most was that he enjoyed it.

His wrath has awoken.

Just before he could speak again, he suddenly gasped. His sin's energy retreated, causing his ascension to be cut short. The very moment his anger subsided for a brief second, he lost his flight and was violently shoved by the overwhelming forces of nature. The flow was able to seamlessly tear him apart. It killed him before his body ever impacted the ground.

When his eyes reopened, it was still dark. But upon standing up, he found himself standing over a volcanic surface. Streams of water echoed in his ears, suggesting this area was previously flooded. He continued to scan the ruins of this once great city, spotting nothing but utter devastation.

It was eerily quiet. Not even a cricket sounded. 

Nobody came back for him, nor did anyone return to find the ruins. Markus ventured out north-west and walked towards the nearby city of Oplontis. Nothing remained there, only destruction. Not even Herculaneum survived the disaster. For an entire day, he traveled barefoot, looking for another living soul. Vesuvius killed everyone and everything in its path.

He collapsed from exhaustion, as memories of Giza rushed through him. While he searched for his family, he only found the remnants of death and destruction. It was painfully familiar, and it was unbearable. But he had to push on.

In the city of Neapolis, near Herculaneum and west of Vesuvius, he finally arrived at the town center. Most of it had been evacuated, but the majority of it remained untouched by the eruption. The locals paid no attention to Markus. Nobody would have suspected him to come from the city of Pompeii, even if he did look terrible. The idea he could have survived and walked all the way here was impossible.

He did learn that a small handful of survivors had arrived at this city via ship, they must have been extraordinarily lucky. Unsurprisingly to Markus, his family wasn't there. While he didn't want to admit it, he knew well enough that they probably weren't able to escape with their lives. Two whole days of chaos, nobody could have survived it on foot.

Gaius Caecillius, or Pliny the Younger, was in Neapolis, which came as a pleasant surprise to Markus. At least there was one familiar face here. Upon approaching him, he was given a shocked reaction from the young writer. "I had believed you were dead."

They would find a quiet spot to sit and relax, and Markus told him everything. He knew very well his words sounded like nonsense, but he spoke regardless. 

"I know very well that you believe I have gone mad, but I am at a loss of words Gaius." Markus felt defeated. It seemed pointless even talking about it, but it felt better to confess. "That is what I experienced. I will not beg you to trust me, I'm aware I'm not exactly sane to begin with. God, I don't know what's wrong with me. Even my marriage is questionable. I won my wife's heart because I eliminated the competition. I hurt people out of jealousy, and I tried to justify it by believing they were all criminals."

He took a deep breath as he slowed himself down. "As I said, I don't expect you to believe a word from me. But just try to acknowledge something; anything. Please."

"I don't know what to say about your story, Markus." He replied, staring at his journal. "I want to believe you, yet I can't help but imagine the disaster has affected your mind. I can understand that you must have been hurt during the evacuation and you are extremely lucky to have survived. But you must realize what you have described is beyond this world. How could any man lift towards the sky and glow like that? Why would a lion of all animals be present after the eruption, let alone your supposed immortality?"

Markus chuckled at the irony of it all, and to hide away the pain. He didn't even bother defending himself any further. Just as he had expected, talking about his immortality only made people believe he was crazy. Pliny the Younger pulled some parchment paper he had saved in a bag and placed it on the table. "However, whether or not any of it was true, you may still agree with what I have written."

Broad sheets of flame were lighting up many parts of Vesuvius; their light and brightness were more vivid for the darkness of the night... It was daylight now elsewhere in the world, but there the darkness was darker and thicker than any night.

It was a segment of what he had written on the day of the eruption. Vesuvius was darker and thicker than any night. Markus could confirm it himself. Even during the day, the volcanic ash had covered the sky and the sun, leaving the whole city in a shroud of darkness. The only light that could be found were the flames that set everything ablaze in a fiery fit of destruction.

Markus however scoffed. "You all stayed and watched our demise, just to write about it from the comforts of your safety?"

"I'm sorry?" Gaius looked back, appearing confused. "We sent many of the Roman navy to your aid, but almost all were destroyed. There was nothing we could have done."

Markus glanced away and sighed, taking a long sip of wine in the process. "I suppose you can't be blamed. Though your uncle was a brave man that stared death in the face. I wish you good luck in your future endeavors, and always remember that fortune favors the bold."

He stood and straightened the tunic he was previously given when arriving here. However, just as he began walking, he heard Pliny's voice behind him. "Where will you go, Markus?"

Markus himself came to a halt. Keeping his back turned against his friend, he lowered his head to stare at the cobble road beneath him. Then, he looked back up towards the sky.

"I don't know."

He walked off, never to look back again. He would never see him again after their encounter in Neapolis, but he would hear news of his death in 113 AD.

Markus never found out if Camilla and Felix survived. Nor could he examine any of the bodies left behind. All traces of their existence vanished from the planet. As much as he hated himself for it, he lost hope fairly quickly. His family is dead, or so he thought. There just wasn't any evidence to prove if they lived or not.

Not a day ever passed by when he didn't think of them. They left an empty void within his soul that could never be patched ever again. It hurt more than death ever could. The misery was unimaginable.

He lost everything.

And that's how it feels.

But with his immortality pushing him forward, he had to overcome it. The devastation still haunted him internally, though he kept his chin up and his willpower strong. Ready to face the hardships of the future, he continued to live.

Even if Camilla wasn't with him physically, he would continue her legacy. He promised her that their story wouldn't end in Pompeii.

He's willing to stay true to his word.

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Historical Notes:

The total number of deaths from Pompeii, Herculaneum, Oplontis and other cities and settlements still remain unknown to this day. Possibly, up to 16,000 people may have perished in total.

Neapolis is the old Roman name for the city of Naples.

Pliny the Younger (Gaius Plinius Caecilius Secundus), would eventually be elected quaestor in the upper order of the Roman Kingdom. He would later enter the senate and become a well-known prosecutor and defender in the Roman Legal System before his death. 

The Destruction of Pompeii and Herculaneum, by John Martin (1822)

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