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It seems like a lifetime has passed before I am thrown violently to the ground. One second the wormhole is there, the next it is gone, and there is no proof that it was even there, except that I am splayed out on a dirt track with no knowledge of exactly how I got there.
I am alerted to the door swinging shut again, just beyond the corner of stone that blocks my view. Perhaps another guard come to replace my burly one? I pray it’s the more cowardly one from before so I can find a way to get out of here. But the person that approaches my cell is the person I least expected to find here in Ancient Greece.
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