Chapter 21 #2
But two things always stopped her. First, she didn’t think the gods would let her walk away. And second, she couldn’t bear
the thought of leaving it all unfinished—of knowing she had a hand in the destruction of so much happiness without ever trying
to make things right.
Three weeks later, Felix joined her to augment her understanding of the fifth level, the Belvedere, the highest accessible
point of the Colosseum. The stairs were extraordinarily steep, and Aida had to admit to her friend that they freaked her out.
“This is like mountain climbing,” she complained.
“It’s worth it though! Up here, you get the best view,” Felix said, turning back to smile at her, his hands tucked into his
jacket pockets. “You can see the entire layout of the Colosseum, the grand design, the bones of it all. It’s something, isn’t
it?”
When they finally emerged onto the platform, Aida stopped, catching her breath. From the Belvedere, the Colosseum unfurled
beneath them like an open palm. The entire structure was visible, from the crumbling stone arches to the outline of the arena
below. The winter sun cast a golden hue over the ancient walls, making the worn stone glow.
Felix leaned against the railing, motioning for her to join him.
“You’re standing in a place few ever get to see,” he said, his voice reverent.
“This level isn’t always open to the public.
Back then, it was reserved for the plebeians—Rome’s lower classes.
But even here, at the highest point, they still came to be part of the spectacle. ”
Aida pulled out her recorder but kept it lowered, more interested in listening to Felix. “The Colosseum could hold between
fifty and eighty thousand people, depending on the event,” he explained. “It wasn’t just for gladiators either. They had animal
hunts, public executions . . . you name it. They even flooded the arena once to stage an entire naval battle. Can you imagine
the engineering that took?”
Aida shook her head, trying to fathom it all. “They really turned death into a show.”
Felix continued. “It wasn’t just a show. It was a political tool. The emperors knew that keeping the people entertained kept
them loyal. Bread and circuses, right? They wouldn’t question much as long as they were fed and had something to cheer for.
It was an easy way to control them.”
Aida leaned over the railing, staring down at the remnants of the arena. “I always imagined the Colosseum as a place for the
elite, but it sounds like it was just as much for everyone else.”
“That’s the thing,” Felix said, turning to her. “Everyone came here. Nobles, soldiers, merchants, and the poor. It was one
of the only places where the whole of Roman society came together, united by the spectacle of it all. And they loved it—the
thrill, the drama, the sheer extravaganza. For the people in those stands, it wasn’t just about watching someone die. It was
about feeling alive—about being part of something bigger than themselves. That’s where the happiness came from.”
Aida thought of the tourists below, wandering the ruins with their cameras, smiling for photos in front of a monument that
had witnessed so much suffering.
Felix stood straight, the moment of reflection passing, and clapped his hands together.
“So, enough with the heavy stuff. Want to hear something fun?” he said, his grin returning.
“They say that even after all these centuries, on a quiet night, you can still hear the roars of the crowd. Ghosts of the past, cheering for another round.”
Aida laughed despite herself, shaking her head. “You’re just trying to spook me now.”
“Maybe a little,” Felix admitted with a playful smirk. “But hey, it’s a nice thought. That even after all this time, the energy
of this place hasn’t faded.”
Aida turned off her recorder, her voice quieter than before. “Not yet.” She gazed down at the Colosseum below. “But how long
before it does?”
Felix opened his mouth to reply, but Aida waved him off as a wave of calmness crept up her spine, unnatural and deliberate.
A god was coming. Her heart skipped a beat. Not here. Not now. Felix had no aegis; if he let anything slip, they’d be in serious trouble.
Disa’s voice rang out, smooth and nonchalant. “Hello, Aida.”
Aida forced herself to turn slowly, willing her expression to stay neutral. Act like nothing’s wrong. Beside her, Felix was already stiffening, doing his best to maintain a calm facade, but Aida could feel the tension radiating
from him. She had to get through this without him losing it.
“Disa,” Aida greeted with a forced smile. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Disa’s outfit, as usual, was utterly inappropriate for the setting: a gaudy gold-and-blue puffer coat with gold high-top sneakers,
fuzzy blue earmuffs, and silk track pants. She looked like she should be on a sleek Milan runway, an odd contrast against
the ancient stones of the Colosseum. The casual arrogance in her movements and the way she surveyed the space reminded Aida
that Disa was more than just another eccentric person. She was an unpredictable force, one capable of unleashing chaos at
any moment.
Felix rose to the occasion, stepping forward to extend his hand. “Felix Goodman,” he said, keeping his voice steady, though Aida saw the flicker of unease in his eyes. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Disa’s gaze drifted to Felix’s outstretched hand, then slid past it as though it didn’t exist. She smiled, but there was something
dangerous lurking beneath her pleasant exterior. “Yes, I know who you are, Mr. Goodman.” She turned her attention to Aida.
“I thought I’d drop by to see how Aida’s research is progressing.”
“We were just wrapping up the fifth level,” Aida said, keeping her tone light. “I didn’t realize you’d be joining us. We would
have waited for you to arrive before Felix gave me the tour.”
“I don’t need a tour. I’m merely checking in. Keeping an eye on things,” she said, strolling toward the railing and peering
over the Colosseum. “What you are doing is of prime importance. After all, you’re documenting something that might not be
here forever.” She let the words hang in the air, her gaze still on the crumbling arena below.
Aida swallowed. What was she suggesting?
Felix forced a chuckle. “It’s a remarkable place. Hard to imagine something like this ever disappearing.”
Disa’s eyes slid to Felix, her smile widening as though she found his comment amusing. “Oh, nothing lasts forever, Mr. Goodman.
Not even something as grand as this.” Her voice was calm, almost playful, but Aida knew nothing was playful about her.
Aida stepped in quickly, trying to steer the conversation. “It’s incredible how the Colosseum has endured for centuries,”
she said, her voice a little too bright. “People still come from all over the world to experience it.”
Disa let out a soft, almost mocking laugh. “Endured?” she repeated. “I’d say it’s survived just long enough to witness the
world around it crumble. People build things, Aida. But they also have a knack for tearing them down.” She turned her gaze
back to the ancient structure, her fingers trailing along the stone railing. “Civilizations fall. It’s inevitable. They just
need the right . . . push.”
“The world’s more stable than you think, Disa,” Aida said, her voice steady with the help of the aegis. “Things don’t just fall apart.”
“Don’t they?” Disa replied, her eyes bright with dark amusement. “All it takes is one small invisible thing. One change and
everything you know comes undone.” She turned her gaze fully on Aida, her expression unnervingly calm. “That’s the beauty
of it, really. You never see it coming.”
Aida’s breath caught in her throat. Disa wasn’t speaking in hypotheticals. She was hinting at something dangerous, something
Aida suspected she’d already set in motion. The realization hit her like a slow cold wave. Disa was planning something catastrophic.
Not for the first time, Aida was grateful for her aegis, because without it she wasn’t sure she could hold her emotions together.
Felix, beside her, gave a strained smile, his voice tight. “Well, let’s hope nothing like that happens anytime soon.”
Disa’s gaze flicked to him, studying him for a beat too long. Then she smiled, as if she’d decided to let him off the hook.
“Yes, let’s hope.”
Aida forced a laugh, despite the calm she felt. “What can I tell you about this project? I’m happy to give you a rundown of
my last few weeks.”
Disa tilted her head. “Oh, I can’t stay. I have other matters to attend to. But I’m glad to see you are working in earnest
on this project.” She stepped back from the railing, her gaze lingering on Felix for a moment before she smiled at Aida. “I
want you to finish early. Make sure you’ve uploaded all your research before you leave today. Then take a long vacation, why
don’t you?” With that, she turned and sauntered toward the stairs, her eccentric outfit glittering absurdly in the sunlight.
Aida began a stilted conversation with Felix about the ancient graffiti on the nearby wall, which they kept up until Disa was out of sight and the calm of the aegis gave way.
She cloaked her MODA phone, then signaled to Felix that they were okay to talk, and he let out a breath he’d been holding, his shoulders sagging with relief. “Oh my fucking god.”
Aida nodded, her heart still racing. “Yeah,” she said softly. “That was a god.”
“Why was she here?”
“She’s the goddess of discord. Who knows. But it definitely wasn’t for anything good.”
“We’re going to lose this place, aren’t we?” he said, looking out over the ancient stones below.
Tears rose to Aida’s eyes at the thought. “Yes.”
Felix kicked the stone wall in front of him. “Fuck this.”
There wasn’t anything that Aida could say, for she felt the same.
She was finished when the Colosseum closed, an hour before sundown. After saying goodbye to Felix, Aida decided to detour