Today, I am addressing you, my dear readers, to share with you a day that has marked not only my life but the very history of our world. It was on August 24, 79 A.D., the day when Vesuvius awoke in all its fury. But what you may not know is that this day was not just a natural disaster. Behind the swirls of ash and rivers of lava, was a much darker truth, a truth that sealed my fate and that of Julius.
That morning, I woke up late, perhaps around the ninth hour, my body still weighed down by the excesses of the day before. Julius, my friend, had won a resounding victory in the arena, and we had celebrated as it should. The vinum farlernum (7) had flowed in a flood, and the victorious songs still resounded in the alleys of Pompeii when the sun rose on that fateful day.
When I finally opened my eyes, the light filtering through the aulea (8) of my villa on via Copiosa (9) revealed a familiar scene, but which today took an almost surreal hue. Julius was still sleeping by my side, his powerful body, marked by the scars of battle, rested peacefully after the festivities of the previous day. This may surprise you, but it is important to understand that the bonds between us were more than mere camaraderie. We were two souls bound together by a common destiny, which went far beyond the simple conventions of our time.
But beyond the euphoria of victory, something else was being prepared.
Around the tenth hour, the ground trembled slightly under our feet. But in Pompeii it was not so rare, and we paid little attention to it at the beginning, attributing these tremors to a reminiscence of the previous day. Yet, as the day progressed, the tremors became more insistent, more threatening. Columns were wobbling, statues were collapsing. The sky, on the other hand, became a strange grey, almost oppressive, announcing the arrival of an ash storm that was going to cover the city.
Shortly after the twelfth hour, when the day should have shone with all its brightness, darkness spread over Pompeii. Vesuvius had begun to vomit its wrath in the form of ashes and glowing rocks. The heat became unbearable, the ashes fell on our heads like a cursed rain.
We left the villa, Julius and I, at last awakened by the gravity of the situation. The crowd was in panic, running in all directions, seeking refuge where there were no more. The sacred mountain, Vesuvius, roared, releasing its fiery venom on the city. Lightning streamed the black sky of ash, and cries of terror rose from all sides.
Despite the chaos, we tried to escape, to leave this city that had become hell. But chaos reigned everywhere. The roads were crowded, and every exit seemed to lead us back to the heart of destruction. Julius, always a gladiator, protected me from the debris that fell from heaven, using his strength to ward off those who tried to block our way. But soon it became clear that the escape was impossible. The whole town was trapped.
We returned to my villa, hoping to find shelter within its solid walls. But nothing could resist the fury of Vesuvius. As soon as we crossed the threshold, the roof collapsed on us, burying Julius and me under a heap of stones and burning ashes. I felt the heat consume me, life escape me, and in a last glance, I saw Julius beside me, his steel eyes gently veiling in the darkness.
But death that day was not the end. No, it was the beginning of something much greater. As our bodies were buried under the ashes, something supernatural happened. In the darkness I felt a presence. The gods, in their infinite wisdom – or perhaps cruelty – decided that our history would not stop there.
It was not until the next day, August 25, that everything ended. The pyroclastic flows had engulfed the city, covering every street, every dwelling place with a deadly layer of ashes and debris. The silence that reigned then was broken only by the muffled noise of stones moving under the weight of rubble. As everything seemed lost, we had been reduced to ashes like the rest of the city, something inexplicable happened.
Our bodies, regenerated, rose from the rubble. The gods had raised us, not as mere mortals, but with powers no man could have imagined. Our bodies, infused with the strength of the gods, could manipulate the elements. Our senses were multiplied, and our minds enlightened by an ancestral wisdom. The gods had given us a mission: to save this world from the destruction that awaited it, eradicate the forces of evil that lurked in the shadows.
Thus we were torn from death to become instruments of a higher power, to prevent other catastrophes like the one that devastated Pompeii. Today, as I look at the recent events and unnatural tremors that Julius told me about, I can’t help but think that history is repeating itself. And this time, it is up to us to do what needs to be done.
The gods have given us this mission, and we will not fail.
(7) Vinum Falernum, or Falerne wine, was one of the most prestigious and sought-after wines in ancient Rome. Produced in the Monte Falernus region of southern Italy, it was known for its exceptional quality and intense taste. This wine, often aged, was consumed at banquets and celebrations by the Roman elites, including in Pompeii, and it symbolized the luxury and refinement of the time.
(8) Aulaea: This Latin term originally refers to the curtains or drapes used in Roman theatres to hide the stage before the beginning of a performance. By extension, "aulaea" can be used to describe decorative draperies or curtains in a domestic context, such as those that would adorn the walls or windows of a Roman villa.
(9) The name of the streets
- • Via Copiosa: This Latin name literally means "the street of abundance" or "the opulent street". " Copiosa" comes from the Latin "copia", which means "abundance" or "wealth", evoking prosperity and fertility. This name would have been appropriate for a major shopping street, lined with shops and rich houses, where life was marked by great economic and social activity.
- • Via dell'Abbondanza: The modern name given to this street after the discovery of Pompeii also reflects this idea of abundance. The street is one of the longest and most important in the city, crossing Pompeii from east to west. It is named after a fresco depicting the goddess of abundance (Abundantia) discovered in the street, symbolizing the wealth and prosperity that characterized this central axis of urban life.