Legitimate empires were a thing of the past.
((CONCLUDE))
14
THE ARENA
Nina stood at the epicenter of what used to be the most prestigious arena on the planet. Millennia ago, slaves and warriors—occasionally even emperors—would face off in that very place; to prove their worth as a fighter, and to fight for their right to live. It wasn't just for their own sake, though. These contests on the arena floor were for their spectators; an audience that practically worshiped the violence on display.
There wasn't an audience anymore—there hadn't been for a long time—yet the Colosseum was now the host of a duel once again.
The Third Triumvirate stood in front of them.
Mr. Nero took a step toward them.
“So there it is then. The sword that Caesar used to create a new Rome, a better Rome. And to think...it had been right here, under everyone's noses...almost at the heart of Rome itself. For so long...since Commodus ruled.”
The large man wearing the stone face of Commodus cracked his knuckles, looking anxious to provoke some fighting. He probably hoped that they wouldn't hand over the sword willingly. Nina was happy to make his hopes a reality.
These thieves didn't deserve the sword.
Mr. Nero looked around and pointed at the broken down Colosseum around them. “Can you picture it? The splendor of this place in those golden years? The excitement for their shared enjoyment. Just imagine it. Can you hear it? Can you hear them cheering for us?”
“I don't think they're cheering for you,” Riley said.
“When we restore Rome to greatness, this place will be rebuilt and reopened as it once was. It’ll be a place for the masses to enjoy time together, to share in a profound experience...”
“People still do that,” August growled. “Concerts. Sporting events. Conventions. We don't need to watch people murder each other for fun. Killing isn't a game and it's not something you can do just because you excuse it with this big master plan of yours. I know you probably don't want to believe it, but society has progressed since then.”
The Third Triumvirate probably couldn't even begin to understand the concept of progress. Based on what they wrote in those letters, in their minds, the world had only taken part in regression ever since the collapse of the Roman Empire. Ironically, they were looking to revert the world back to a much more rudimentary time while acting like it was some bold new world. Nina hated their hypocrisy. They were obsessed with turning back the clocks, honestly thinking that a long-dead society was what the world needed to cure all of its problems. They seemed to forget that the Roman Empire didn't survive for a reason. That expansive of an empire wasn't sustainable as time passed. It had a good long run, to be sure, but it wasn't meant to be. Some things were not meant to come back, and the Roman Empire was certainly one of those things.
“You believe sports hold any candle to the events that would take place here? Really? You must know next to nothing about this place then because those are two very different things. The contests of strength that the world has today—football, baseball, basketball, hockey, fencing, racing, all of it—are just poor imitations of the actual bouts that took place in this arena.” Mr. Nero looked tired of this discussion, acting like he was right and that was the end of it. “Enough wasting our time. It's really quite simple. Give us the sword and we won't kill you and your friends. Refuse, and you declare yourself an enemy of Rome and will have to be treated as such.”
Nina pointed the sword at Mr. Nero and smirked. “You want this sword? Come and claim it then.”
She wasn't a swordsman. She wasn't trained in fencing, kendo, or any other forms of swordplay. The closest thing she had ever done was cut through some branches with a machete. Hopefully, hacking and slashing wildly would be enough.
“You don't want to do this.”
“I do, actually, because I'm not about to hand over the sword of Caesar to a bunch of deranged tots who think that they're going to resurrect a dead civilization because they put on some dorky looking headgear.”
The passive face of Mr. Nero stared silently at her.
“You lack vision. That’s a shame.”
“I don't think I'm the one not seeing things clearly. You and your friends are letting your imaginations go a little too wild, don't you think? You're not some long awaited savior of Rome. You're definitely not Nero no matter what face you're wearing. You’re a boy in a mask. That's it. The Roman Empire isn't coming back. Get over it. Find something else to be passionate about.”
“Give us the sword! Now!” Mr. Commodus roared.
Nina shook her head. “I really would’ve thought that you would’ve known Commodus hid the sword here since you’re wearing his face...disappointing...but I shouldn't expect anything more from a bunch of posers.”
Mr. Commodus looked like a large beast ready to pounce on his prey. He was itching for a fight and looked quite at home in an arena like this. Luckily, August looked just as prepared to brawl. Nina was thankful to have him. Anyone else would’ve been crushed under Mr. Commodus's boot, just from his sheer size alone. August would actually be able to stand up to him and go toe to toe with the camouflaged behemoth.
“This doesn't have to be violent,” Miss Caligula said soothingly. She was usually so quiet, that it was always surprising when she decided to speak. “But we’ll make it violent if we must. Believe me. If that's how you really want this to happen, we'll do things that way.”
Nina had already made up her mind and she wasn't going to let these incognito freaks intimidate her. “I choose violence then.”
They outnumbered the Third Triumvirate four to three. However, Elijah Dane was a bookworm who probably didn't have much experience in physical confrontations. He might not be of much use if this turned into a fight. He even looked uncomfortable just with the possibility that things might get ugly. He stood awkwardly, like he was trying to figure out what stance he should assume. That made it an even three against three really, and Nina wasn't positive that it was going to be a fair fight with those odds.
She could handle herself well enough, she knew that, but she wasn't sure how tough Riley was. She brought August to fend off threats and usually he would’ve been good enough to do that, even against multiple people but Mr. Commodus looked like he was going to be taking up most of August's time and energy, and he wouldn't be an easy opponent to beat.
“Fine,” Mr. Nero said coldly. “If that's your final decision, we will take the sword by force.”
Mr. Nero waved a finger and Mr. Commodus suddenly rushed at Nina and the others like an enraged bull. As expected, Elijah tried his best to intercept the man but was swatted out of the way with ease. He was thrown onto the floor of the arena, looking dazed.
Nina braced herself, raising the old sword defensively. Mr. Commodus might have been a human tank but he was still just a human. A sharp blade could pierce his flesh just as easily as it could anyone else, no matter how big he was. He’d just fall with a bit louder of a thud than most people. Now it was just a matter of running him through with the pointy end without being trampled by his one-man stampede.
As he approached, it felt like the Earth was quaking under his stomps. She fully expected to be just as ineffective as Elijah had been, but she had a sword so at least she had to try.
August suddenly launched through the air and tackled the charging bull, bringing both Mr. Commodus and himself sliding across the ground. The two huge men grappled with one another, each trying to overpower the other.
Mr. Nero and Miss Caligula started walking toward Nina and Riley, pulling out knives as they drew closer.
“To hell with it,” Nina said. “This is for breaking into our bedroom.”
“Creeps,” Riley concurred beside her.
The two women prepared for a fight as their opponents rushed at them.
Nina didn't have a lot of combat experience but was quickly discovering that one of the hard facts about fighting someone in a ma
sk was that it made it especially difficult to anticipate their moves. Usually, you could see someone's eyes to know where he or she was looking and what one was focused on. A person's face would usually grimace or contort when he or she was about to strike. A mask hid all of those cues. All you had to go off of were the movements of the arms and legs, but by time you saw a limb move, it was probably too late to react properly. In this case, Nina could easily end up with a knife in her.
The sword had a better reach than knives but it was also ancient and rusty. It probably couldn't cut much of anything these days. One strike and it might even crumble to pieces.
Purdue told her a story recently about a cursed crusader sword that he’d encountered. Purdue had used it and it gave him incredible physical prowess as long as he had the sword in his hand. The power came at a deadly cost though that nearly killed Purdue. At the moment, Nina didn't care how deadly the cost was if it could help her beat these two.
“You’re standing in the way of Rome's magnificent revival, Dr. Gould. Why? You’re well versed in its history. You know full well how important this is. You know that our homeland is a mere shell of what it used to be. Just look at this place!” Mr. Nero raised his arms toward the Colosseum walls around them. “Look at this rundown, decrepit, broken place! It's a wonder that it hasn't broken apart entirely by now. This used to be a place that was teeming with excitement and life and glory...where emperors would come to be among their people. Now it is just another stop on a tourist brochure. That's all! How far we’ve fallen.”
“Get over it already,” Riley said, rolling her eyes.
They decided to split up, and hopefully the Triumvirate members would follow their lead. Nina climbed up out of the Hypogeum pit to the audience stands of the Colosseum. Miss Caligula followed while Riley tried her best to escape Mr. Nero. Nina glanced back and saw Riley doing a commendable job against her opponent. She mostly avoided the swings of his knife but then managed to grab his wrist and disarm him. The two fought over the knife on the ground and Riley had hold of it for a moment, nicking Mr. Nero's shin. The masked man let out a yell and punched Riley hard in the face, knocking her out cold.
Nina screamed but couldn't watch from the stands any longer as Miss Caligula had climbed up to meet her. The woman ascended the steps at a brisk pace, waving her knife around.
“No one’s leaving the Colosseum alive.”
Miss Caligula swiped with her knife and Nina blocked with a few quick parry's of Caesar's sword. She kept nearly tripping as she ascended the steps backwards. If she didn't end this soon, she would definitely end up dead.
Nina really hoped Riley was okay and Nina’s protective duty triggered a wave of adrenaline through her. She was sick of these people ambushing her. She was sick of them threatening her. She hated them and their stupid masks.
Nina dodged another swipe of Miss Caligula's knife and then swung Caesar's sword hard and watched the blade collide with Miss Caligula's head. It smashed into the gray visage of the real Caligula, splitting the worst emperor's face apart. The mask crumbled off of the woman's head from the impact, revealing her true face underneath. Nina realized it was a face that she’d vividly seen before.
It was Monica, the floor manager of the Palazza Nuovo.
INTERLUDE: THE MASK OF MISS CALIGULA
Monica Moretti grew up on all of the tales about the once great Roman Empire conquering the known world and bringing more and more lands into their utopia. While other children had their heroes like Superman, Batman, and the like, she was more interested in real idols—ones that could be found in history books instead of comic books. She preferred looking up to people who had once walked the same Earth and done things that would sustain their names for countless generations after their deaths.
Julius Caesar was an important one and an undeniably influential one, but he was never Monica's favorite. She was much more of a fan of the rulers of Rome with the most interesting stories and those tended to be the more warped figures. She loved learning all about the weird little quirks Caligula did, especially, like giving his horse a position of power in the government. She loved reading about all of Commodus’ strange machinations for the entertainment of the Colosseum crowds. And she basked in trying to understand what Nero was thinking as his domain was on fire.
Rome and its various rulers had been her obsession since she was four years old. To think how successful it had been...even with such inconsistency in its leadership. Whether it was a republic or an empire, Rome had been set to be the strongest civilization that the world had ever seen. The fire had burned so brightly...it was a shame that it was extinguished.
Rome, as it was, had been nearly perfect and it could be even better in the modern world.
Unfortunately, Ancient Rome's presence in the modern world was relegated to museum exhibits. People in the current day only thought that it was useful to give lectures on or look at displays to pass time on a boring Sunday afternoon. One of the most prolific empires in history was now just kept behind glass, to be looked at but never touched, never truly experienced.
It was more than a shame. It was a crime!
Every day that Monica spent as the floor manager of the Palazza Nuovo was spent doing nothing but thinking about how horrible Rome's fate truly was. It’d been reduced in its status, disregarded, and put on a shelf to sell tickets. She could do so much more with those items that were sitting in their display cases. She could do so much more with the teachings of Ancient Rome than putting up a plaque. Rome could be so powerful again, if it could just break free from those exhibits, if the rest of the modern world could see its real usefulness.
When the day came that Monica overheard two men talking about their aspirations for Rome—to fulfill their dream of seeing it brought back in all of its former glory, she quickly realized that she wasn't alone in the world. There were people who shared her beliefs and her admiration and respect for the Rome she cherished deeply. She needed to speak to them, so she did, and immediately knew that she’d found the people who would help give her purpose.
Sal and Matteo were the people she hoped would help her resurrect a dead civilization. It wouldn't be an easy task but she was confident that they all brought something valuable to the table.
Sal was good with words, an excellent public speaker, and would be the perfect voice to spread their message to the rest of the world. He’d be able to convince any doubters that they were doing something truly special. He could bend someone's opinion in their direction in a matter of minutes because his argument was difficult to deny. Sometimes he didn't always think through what he was saying, but that was what Monica was good at doing—making his words as much of a reality as she could.
Matteo could probably crush someone's skull with his bare hands if he tried and Monica liked the idea that they had someone with such brute force to help them. She and Sal weren't the best of fighters, but they could direct the monster of a man to cause destruction in valuable places. He wasn't the most interesting person to talk to, but she didn't need him to talk. She just needed Matteo to throw his physical power around here and there. If Sal's words couldn't bend people to their cause, then Matteo could always try flexing them to see their way with his bare hands instead.
Monica was the real brains behind the Third Triumvirate. She wasn't the most well-spoken, in fact sometimes she was quite anxious and shy. She certainly wasn't the strongest since she had trouble lifting even some of the most simple of things, and she definitely didn't know how to fight well. What she did know...was how to execute an idea and make it work. So often, running the presentation of the museum, she had to think on her feet, sometimes improvise, and come up with the best way to pull something off. Her whole job was to make sure that a presentation was effective and moving to the ones that were going to see it. Her role with the Third Triumvirate was primarily the same. She thought of the ways to best carry out their plans and figure out the most efficient way to spread their beliefs to others.
; To really pull this off, though, it’d take more than three people. They couldn't just be people anymore if they were going to move forward with their plans. They had to be something much more than regular civilians who were preaching praises for the Roman Empire. They had to become something else entirely—symbols or idols...something that people would notice and remember. They had to personify ideas since ideas were far more than just regular flesh and blood. Ideas couldn't be killed easily, they had to be snuffed out, and sometimes destroying ideas was an impossible task. They had to be more than human, and it was a challenge to transform themselves into something more.
The masks were Monica's idea and they were the key. Masks had power to both hide one's identity but to also show something else about that person. The masks they needed would have to stand out and be remembered. They had to be simple, yet also speak to their mission. It was on a random morning when she thought of the idea of making the masks look like the statues of different Roman emperors—specifically the supposedly crazy emperors that she used to admire. Those emperors were memorable and were capable of immediately making someone interested. With the masks came their new identities, and the first time she ever referred to herself as Miss Caligula.
Monica, Sal, and Matteo each chose one of the emperors, each adorning the stone face of the one that best represented who they were as people. Naturally, Matteo selected Commodus since both loved the Colosseum and both thought of themselves as warriors. Sal wore Nero's mask, representing his desire to see the modern world catch fire and burn to ash. Monica opted for Caligula because he’d always been her favorite and his insane stories always spoke to her. He was most likely deranged, she couldn't deny, but there was a certain genius to his madness. Who knew what strange shapes he could have twisted the world into if he wasn't assassinated by his own guards?
Order of the Black Sun Box Set 11 Page 31
