The first thing Dr. Elias Carter noticed was the smell - earthy, pungent, and thick with the aroma of baked bread, roasting meat, and human sweat. The second thing was the noise. The streets of Rome were alive with the shouting of merchants, the clatter of iron-rimmed wheels on stone, and the laughter of children darting between togas and tunics.

He had done it. The Chrono-Gate had worked.

Dressed in a simple tunic and sandals, Elias blended in as best he could. He had studied Latin for years, but hearing it spoken fluently around him was different from reading dusty inscriptions in a museum. He moved carefully, his modern instincts urging him to check his pockets, though he carried nothing but a few carefully crafted Roman coins.

A chariot rumbled past, splattering mud on a slave boy carrying amphorae of wine. The boy yelped but dared not protest. Elias clenched his jaw. He was here to observe, not interfere.

He made his way toward the Forum, the beating heart of the empire. Marble columns towered above the crowds, statues of gods and emperors casting long shadows in the midday sun. Senators in pristine white togas debated fiercely, gesturing as they spoke. Near a temple, a group of soldiers polished their armor, laughing as they shared war stories.

Elias reached into his belt pouch and felt the smooth edge of his recall device - a small, round disc no larger than a coin. If things went wrong, one press would take him back to the 21st century. He hoped he wouldn't need it.

He wandered toward the Colosseum, still under construction. The sheer scale of it was staggering, even for someone who had seen pictures in textbooks. Slaves hauled massive stone blocks under the watchful eyes of overseers, their backs glistening with sweat. The air was filled with the ringing of chisels and the creaking of wooden scaffolding.

A voice called out behind him. "You there! Citizen!"

Elias turned, his heart pounding. A burly man in a leather cuirass and a red cloak approached. A centurion.

"You look lost," the soldier said, narrowing his eyes.

Elias forced a chuckle. "Just admiring the work, sir."

The centurion studied him for a moment, then grunted. "Fine place to admire. Will be the grandest arena in the world." He folded his arms. "You're not from Rome, are you?"

Elias hesitated. "From the provinces," he said quickly. "New to the city."

The centurion smirked. "That explains it. Keep your wits about you, traveler. Rome is beautiful, but she is not kind to fools."

Elias nodded, watching as the centurion strode away. He had dodged suspicion - for now. But he couldn't stay long. The past was seductive, but it was also dangerous.

As the sun dipped lower, he took one last look at the city - the empire at its height, magnificent and cruel. He reached for his recall device, pressed the button, and vanished in a flash of light.

Rome would forget him. But he would never forget Rome.