00:00The sun bled red over the hills of Gaul. Marcus Valerius, a young Roman centurion,
00:05stood before his weary soldiers the last survivors of the Ninth Legion. Their armor was cracked,
00:11their faces hollow, but their hearts still burned with the pride of Rome. Behind them,
00:16smoke rose from the ruins of a lost fortress. Ahead, the barbarian horde gathered,
00:21shouting in their strange, wild tongues. Marcus lifted the Legion's eagle the golden standard
00:26of Rome high into the wind. Men of the Ninth, he roared. Rome does not die here. Not while one of
00:33us still draws breath. The soldiers slammed their spears into the earth. Ave Roma, they cried.
00:39As the enemy charged, Marcus led the final stand. Steel clashed, blood fell like rain,
00:45and the eagle of Rome shone bright against the storm. When the battle ended, silence ruled the
00:50field. Only the eagle remained upright, a lonely symbol of courage, gleaming beneath the setting
00:55sun. And so, though the Ninth perished, Rome lived.
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