Marcus led Arthur through several streets before finally stopping in front of a modest building. It was not much different from the others around it. The walls were worn, the doorway narrow, and the small upper window looked as though it had not been cleaned in years.

The soldier pushed the door open and stepped aside.

Arthur entered cautiously.

The room beyond was surprisingly small. A narrow bed stood against one wall, while a simple wooden table occupied the center of the room. A shelf held several clay lamps, a few rolled documents, and what appeared to be everyday household items. Nothing about the place suggested wealth or importance.

In a strange way, that made Arthur feel better.

At least he had not woken up in the body of a senator.

Marcus watched him carefully as he examined the room. The soldier seemed to be searching for some sign of recognition. Arthur understood why. If Marcus believed he was Gaius, then this place should have felt familiar.

Instead, it felt like a stranger’s home.

Arthur approached the shelf and picked up one of the rolled documents. The handwriting was difficult to read. Years spent studying Roman administration had taught him enough Latin to understand official texts, but reading everyday writing was another matter entirely.

Marcus noticed his struggle and took the document from him. He pointed to the text and then toward Arthur.

"Gaius."

Arthur nodded slowly.

At least one thing was becoming clear.

The man whose body he occupied had lived here.

The realization was unsettling. Every object in the room belonged to someone who no longer existed. The bed. The clothes. The writing tablets on the table.

All of it had belonged to Gaius.

Marcus crossed the room and opened a small wooden chest. Inside were several folded tunics, a leather belt, and a small pouch containing a handful of coins.

Not many.

Certainly not enough to suggest a prosperous life.

Arthur crouched beside him and examined the contents. Near the bottom of the chest lay a bronze seal. The moment he saw it, he recognized its purpose.

Official business.

Administrative work.

The seal had likely been used to authenticate documents.

Arthur picked it up and turned it over in his hand.

A minor official, then.

Perhaps a clerk.

Perhaps a messenger.

Nothing important enough to attract attention.

Marcus nodded when he saw Arthur studying the seal. It seemed the soldier agreed with the conclusion.

For a while, neither spoke.

Arthur continued exploring the room while Marcus remained near the door. The silence was not uncomfortable. Both men were occupied by their own thoughts.

Eventually, Arthur noticed something tucked beneath the edge of the table.

A small folded piece of parchment.

It had been hidden carelessly, as though someone had intended to retrieve it later.

He unfolded it.

The message was short.

Very short.

Even with his limited understanding of written Latin, he could make out enough to grasp the meaning.

Meeting.

Warehouse District.

Third day before Kalends.

Arthur frowned.

It looked more like a reminder than an official document.

Marcus stepped closer and read the note over his shoulder.

His expression immediately changed.

Not dramatically.

Just enough for Arthur to notice.

The soldier took the parchment and read it again.

Then a third time.

Whatever the note meant, Marcus clearly found it important.

Arthur pointed at the parchment.

Marcus looked at him for a moment before nodding slowly.

Then he pointed at the note.

After that, he crossed his arms over his chest.

Dead.

Arthur understood immediately.

This had something to do with Gaius’s death.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor.

For the first time since waking up, he felt as though he had discovered a genuine clue.

Not proof.

Not answers.

Just a direction.

Someone had arranged a meeting.

Gaius had gone.

Three days later, he was dead.

Marcus folded the parchment carefully and placed it on the table.

Then he looked at Arthur.

The confusion was still there, but something else had appeared alongside it.

Determination.

The soldier seemed to have reached a decision.

Whatever had happened to Gaius, Marcus intended to find out.

Arthur had a feeling he was about to become involved whether he wanted to or not.