Interlude – Voices in the City
The streets of the captured city lay quiet under rebel patrol. Fires still smoldered in the ruins, but the citizens whispered louder than the flames.
An old woman clutched her shawl. "He spared us bread when others would have cut our throats."
A young man shook his head. "Spartacus leads them, yes, but the boy—Twin Steel—he is different. His eyes… I swear they glowed in the torchlight. He fights like storm given flesh."
Another spat on the ground. "Do not be fooled. He is no savior. I saw him slit a man's throat and not blink. Mercy one moment, death the next. That is not human."
Children huddled together, whispering his name as though it were prayer and curse both.
And in every alley, every marketplace, his legend grew. For some, a protector. For others, a monster. But all agreed — Twin Steel walked among them.
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Chapter 3 – Men of Honor
The rebel camp was restless within the city's walls. With victory came tension.
Spartacus walked the streets, urging restraint, reminding men that freedom meant more than plunder. Crixus, meanwhile, barked orders for training, eager to sharpen them into an army worthy of Rome's steel.
The men muttered, torn between two visions of rebellion.
Ivar sat in the courtyard of a seized villa, oiling his twin blades. His sea-green eyes watched both Spartacus and Crixus argue, his silence heavier than any shout.
At last, he spoke, voice calm but cutting.
"One seeks discipline. One seeks vengeance. Both paths spill blood. But if we bleed ourselves fighting each other, Rome need not lift a sword."
The courtyard stilled. Even Spartacus turned toward him, frown deepening.
"You would claim to know more than men twice your age?" Crixus growled.
Ivar's gaze was unflinching. "I claim to know survival. Pride breaks as fast as steel. Rage burns as fast as fire. Both must be tempered, or both will die."
Spartacus exhaled slowly. "The boy speaks truth."
Crixus muttered, but said no more.
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The Roman Counter
Far away, in his villa, Marcus Crassus studied scrolls of rebel movements, every report laid bare.
"Spartacus burns," he said, placing a token on the map.
Then another token, smaller, darker, beside it. "And Twin Steel tempers. He is no mere gladiator. He is spine to Spartacus' rage, storm to Crixus' strength. Remove him, and the rebellion cracks."
His son Tiberius shifted uneasily. "They say he commands storm, father. That he heals from wounds."
Crassus' lip curled faintly. "Then he is not a boy. He is a weapon. And every weapon has a weakness."
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Aftermath
That night, Spartacus sat with Ivar atop the walls of the captured city.
"They whisper of you as much as me now," Spartacus said quietly. "Some call you savior. Others call you cursed."
Ivar looked out over the dark fields, the stars reflected in his sea-green eyes. "Let them whisper. Legends matter little. Only war matters. And war is not yet won."
Spartacus studied him, unease stirring. He could not shake the feeling that the gods had placed this boy in the rebellion for reasons Rome — and perhaps even he — could not yet see.
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⚔️ Do you want me to continue into Chapter 4 (Episode 4 – Decimation), where Crassus shows Rome's brutal discipline and Ivar reflects it back as warning to the rebels, or pause first for a short interlude — a whispered exchange between Roman soldiers about Twin Steel, building his myth further among the rank-and-file?