The gladiator enters Flavian, clueless for what's to come.

He looks up to the Emperor and hears the roar of excitement from the crowd.
The lumbering metal gate opens slowing, showing pitch darkness.

The gladiator squints.
He sees two men holding chains.
The crowd grows louder.

Now four men walk with a lion in the middle.
The lion walks as if he’s tamed: slow, calm, quiet.
The men unhinge the chains and walk back into the darkness, bring the gate down.

The crowd silences.
The lion roars a majestic roar that shakes dust off the walls.
The crowd cheers louder for the excitement to come.
The gladiator wields his weapon: Ready.

The crowd keeps its roar, the gladiator walks, the lion stalks, slow dancing, waiting to strike.
The lion lunges towards the gladiator, pinning him on the dirt.
Unable to move, he stares at death, right in the face.

Using his shield to get free, he stuns the lion.
Getting back on his feet and seeing his blood drip,
the lion is up and ready.

The gladiator lifts his sword and shield to rile the crowd, turning to the lion with a smirk,
thinking, It’s just begun.

Then, he charges.