Second Flow - Rome (79 CE)

  Elias felt the world materialize around him in stages—first sound, the distant cry of gulls; then smell, salt air mingled with unfamiliar cooking spices; finally sight, as his vision cleared from darkness to blinding Mediterranean sunlight. He blinked rapidly, his hand instinctively reaching out to steady himself against the vertigo.

  His fingers found a solid surface—rough stone, warm from the sun—and he managed to push himself to a sitting position. The disorientation from their transition was less severe this time, though his head still throbbed.

  "Marcus?" His voice sounded strange to his own ears, as though the acoustics of this new pce altered its timbre.

  A groan came from several feet away. "Still here, unfortunately."

  Elias turned to see Marcus lying ft on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes to shield them from the sun. The soldier looked less affected by the transition than he had been in Egypt, recovering more quickly this time, though clearly still disoriented.

  "Where are we now?" Marcus asked, not yet moving to look around. "Please tell me it's somewhere with air conditioning and indoor plumbing."

  Elias had already taken in their surroundings, and what he saw made his breath catch in his throat. They were on a hillside overlooking a magnificent bay—a perfect natural harbor embraced by green slopes that curved like protective arms around the azure water. Nestled along the shoreline and extending up the lower slopes was a thriving city of whitewashed buildings, temples with distinctive columns, and a bustling port where ships with square sails were docked.

  But it was the mountain looming behind the city that made Elias's heart rate accelerate. Even from this distance, he could recognize its distinctive profile—a solitary peak rising majestically above the ndscape, currently peaceful under the blue sky, with only the faintest wisp of smoke from its summit suggesting its true nature.

  "Marcus," he said, his voice tight with urgency, "you need to see this."

  Something in Elias's tone prompted Marcus to lower his arm and sit up. The soldier scanned their surroundings with practiced efficiency, taking in the panoramic view. His expression remained impassive until his eyes settled on the mountain.

  "That's a volcano," he stated ftly.

  "Not just any volcano." Elias swallowed hard. "That's Mount Vesuvius. And the city below us is Pompeii."

  Marcus's face hardened as the implications registered. "Pompeii. As in—"

  "As in completely destroyed by a catastrophic eruption, yes." Elias couldn't take his eyes off the peaceful scene below, knowing what fate awaited it. "Based on the state of the city and the mountain, I'd estimate we're days, perhaps hours before the eruption of 79 CE."

  Marcus was immediately on his feet, military training evident in how quickly he shifted from recovery to high alert. "How long do we have exactly?"

  "It's impossible to know with precision," Elias said, finally tearing his gaze from the mountain to look at his companion. "Historical accounts from Pliny the Younger indicate the eruption began on August 24th, but modern schors have found evidence suggesting it might have been in October. Without knowing the exact date we've arrived, I can't—"

  "Forget the history lesson," Marcus cut him off. "Focus on survival. We need to find the symbol and get out before that thing blows."

  Elias stood up as well, dusting off his clothes—he noticed they still wore the same outfits from the facility, though they appeared increasingly worn with each transition. "There's something else you should know. In Egypt, we were essentially observers—minimally interactive with our environment. But I think our condition is changing."

  To demonstrate, he approached a nearby olive tree and pced his hand against the trunk. Instead of the slight resistance they'd experienced in Egypt, his hand pressed firmly against the bark, able to feel every ridge and groove.

  "Try it," he suggested.

  Marcus approached cautiously and pressed his palm against the tree. His eyes widened slightly—the only indication of his surprise. "We're more... solid."

  "Exactly. In Egypt, we could barely move small objects with considerable effort. Here..." Elias picked up a fist-sized rock from the ground with ease, then set it back down. "We can interact more substantially with the environment."

  Marcus processed this information with a frown. "That could be useful for finding the symbol, but it also means we could accidentally change things. Historical things."

  "Yes," Elias agreed, a note of academic enthusiasm creeping into his voice despite the danger. "This is consistent with theories about temporal observer effects—the longer an observer remains in a time stream, the more they become synchronized with it."

  "In English, professor."

  "Each 'flow,' as the manuscript called it, is integrating us more deeply with the temporal environment. If this progression continues, we might eventually become fully physical in these spaces—perhaps even visible to the inhabitants."

  Marcus's expression darkened. "And if we change something significant?"

  "Temporal causality paradoxes," Elias replied grimly. "Best case scenario: nothing happens to our original timeline because we're in an observational loop rather than actually changing the past. Worst case..." He left the thought unfinished.

  "Right," Marcus said decisively. "We stick to the pn. Find the symbol, activate it, move on. Nothing else."

  Elias couldn't help the flicker of disappointment that crossed his features. "Marcus, do you realize what we're witnessing? This is Pompeii before the eruption. No modern historian has ever seen this. The opportunity to document daily life, to resolve academic disputes about Roman culture that have persisted for centuries—"

  "The opportunity to get buried under tons of volcanic ash," Marcus countered. "I'm not risking our lives so you can publish a paper no one will ever read because we'll be dead."

  They stared at each other, the fundamental difference in their perspectives creating a familiar tension. But something had shifted since Egypt—the animosity that had characterized their early interactions had transformed into something more complex, a friction born of growing mutual respect rather than mere disagreement.

  Elias was the first to look away. "You're right about the danger," he conceded. "But we don't even know where to look for the symbol. In Egypt, it took us days to find it."

  Marcus surveyed the city below, his tactical mind already working. "Then we need to split our efforts. I'll identify potential escape routes and gather emergency supplies in case the eruption begins before we find the symbol. You focus on finding historical records—libraries, temples, anywhere that might have information about phenomena simir to what we're experiencing."

  The pragmatic approach made sense, though Elias was surprised by Marcus's willingness to separate. "You trust me to stay focused on the mission?"

  A hint of a smile crossed Marcus's face. "No. But I trust you want to live, which means finding that symbol." The smile faded. "Just... don't get distracted chronicling how Romans brushed their teeth or whatever."

  "Their dental hygiene was actually quite sophisticated for the time period," Elias began automatically, then stopped himself when he saw Marcus's expression. "Right. Focus on the symbol."

  They began making their way down the hillside toward the city, the magnificent panorama of Pompeii spread before them—beautiful, vibrant, and utterly doomed. Elias couldn't help thinking about the thousands of people going about their daily lives below, completely unaware that their final days were ticking away.

  "Don't," Marcus said quietly, seeming to read his thoughts. "You can't save them. This already happened."

  "I know," Elias replied, his voice equally soft. "But knowing doesn't make it easier to witness."

  Marcus nodded, a rare moment of complete understanding passing between them. Then, with unspoken agreement, they continued their descent toward the ancient city, each step bringing them closer to Pompeii's final days—and hopefully, their own escape.