Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: Descent into Chaos

Screams shattered Pompeii's calm as Vesuvius's roar intensified. The ash cloud bloomed, blotting the sun and casting an eerie twilight. Hot lapilli—porous stones—rained relentlessly, clattering on roofs and piling in drifts. Lucius shielded his head with a cloak, dashing through alleys choked with fleeing crowds. Families shoved past one another: a baker abandoned his oven, loaves half-risen; a noblewoman in silks tripped, her jewels scattering like forgotten stars.Marcus led the way to the harbor, sword at his belt for protection against looters. "Stay close!" he bellowed over the din. Livia gripped Lucius's hand, her garlands trampled underfoot. The streets turned to rivers of panic—carts overturned, spilling figs and amphorae that shattered in sticky pools. Ash coated throats, sparking coughs and blinded eyes. "The boats! They'll save us!" someone yelled, igniting a desperate surge toward the gates.Darkness deepened unnaturally by noon. Livia lit a lamp, its flame dancing wildly. They paused at a fountain, now spewing grit instead of water. Lucius glimpsed horrors: an old man crushed by falling tiles, a child wailing alone amid pumice drifts four feet deep. "Pluto claims us," a priest moaned nearby, slashing his wrists in ritual despair. Marcus pulled Lucius away. "No gods today—only survival."Clearing roofs became futile as stones punched through terra-cotta. Villas collapsed in puffs of dust. The family pressed on, but surges of superheated gas began probing the slopes. Herculaneum, the sister city, vanished first in a blistering wavefront, its 4,000 inhabitants boiled alive in seconds. News trickled via runners, sowing deeper terror. At the Stabian Gate, a bottleneck formed—soldiers tried directing crowds, but chaos reigned.Lucius's legs burned, pumice slicing his feet. They reached the harbor road, where waves crashed unnaturally high from tremors. Boats bobbed erratically, captains demanding exorbitant fares. "Too risky!" one shouted as lightning forked from the ash pillar. A massive wave then slammed ashore, swamping vessels and dragging dozens under. Marcus fought to a skiff, tossing coins. "All aboard!"But fate twisted. Another quake fissured the earth, swallowing the dock. They scrambled back inland, ash now eight feet deep in places. Livia whispered prayers to Isis. Lucius clung to hope, remembering father's tales of storms weathered. Yet Vesuvius gathered for the kill—pyroclastic flows accelerating, invisible killers hurtling at 100 miles per hour, laden with 120-degree poison.