Her grip tightened on the recorder. “Happiness built on blood,” she repeated, more to herself than for her notes.But at what cost?Even now, the monument remained a symbol of joy for so many—a tourist attraction, a marvel of history. But beneath that surface, it was always the same. A place where delight came from suffering.
She paused in one of the ancient holding chambers, her heart heavy.When the Colosseum falls, so will Rome.The prophecy buzzed in the back of her mind, insistent, inescapable.
She turned off the recorder and exhaled, watching her breath spiral toward the stone ceiling. For now, the Colosseum still stood, its legacy of cruelty and celebration woven into the fabric of the world. But as she stepped deeper into the maze of corridors, Aida couldn’t help but feel that with every word she recorded, she was nudging it closer to the edge of oblivion.
The days Aida spent at the Colosseum dragged on. Each morning, as she made the long walk to the ancient arena, she would stop when it came fully into view, taking a moment to admire it—the way the sun lit up the two-thousand-year-old concrete, how the arches soared into the sky with a defiant grace.She needed to drink it all in, to commit every detail to memory. How many more times would she get to see its grandeur?
She tried, often in vain, to push away the thought that nagged at her: the role she played in it all, the happiness she was collecting, documenting, and quietly storing away. More than once, she thought about quitting—leaving everything behind, boarding a plane, and returning to Boston to start anew. There was a certain comfort in imagining herself back there, admitting her failure, and shaking off the weight of this impossible task.
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 canstill 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?
