The wave reached him.
Nero felt it coming long before it touched him. It could not be seen or heard. But he felt it come through something deeper, something instinctive that coiled tight within his chest. It was the same quiet dread that had followed him since the bells first rang, now sharpened into a single, unbearable point.
He did not move.
Around him, the world had already begun to break.
A man somewhere in front of him screamed, his voice high, ragged, cut short so abruptly it felt as though the sound itself had been severed. Another voice rose in prayer, desperate and incoherent, only to vanish in the same instant.
The crowd immediately became volatile, spreading out in all directions, with people even trampling over others.
Nero heaved a deep breath.
When it touched him, he braced without realizing it, his grip tightening around the shaft of his spear as every muscle in his body prepared for impact.
But there was none.
Nothing at all.
