That was the real reason they chose those emperors—they were rulers that deserved a second chance. The world hadn't been ready for the peculiar displays of power that they showed their citizens at the time, that was all.
It might have been a crazy idea but that just made it all the more fitting that they wore the faces of madmen. The world needed some insanity to help get it back on track.
Once the three of them donned the masks for the first time, they all felt it—they knew this was who they were meant to be. The Third Triumvirate was brought to life that day, and they weren’t going to rest until the real Rome was brought back to life, too.
Miss Caligula wouldn't let anyone stand in the way of Ancient Rome's revival.
15
THE FACES BEHIND THE MASKS
Monica didn't have that welcoming, warm demeanor anymore. She wasn't the pleasant floor manager of the Palazza Nuovo. She was something else, something scary. She transformed into something even worse than the passive gray face of Caligula that she’d been donning. Her real face was twisted into a cruel scowl.
Nina stood there, stunned, and her mind was racing. She felt like she was Scooby-Doo unmasking the monster, but this wasn't some cartoon. This was real life, and, as usual, it didn't make sense.
“Why?” It was all she could say in that moment. She could feel her blood boiling. This woman had been playing them from the start. Nina felt stupid for having ever comforted Monica in front of the museum. That breakdown...that grief...it was all just an act.
“Why?” Monica repeated mockingly. “That's what you're going to ask after all of this? We told you why from the very beginning, remember? The Third Triumvirate has always made its intentions more than clear!”
“Bringing Ancient Rome back,” Nina said knowingly. “And all of that shit that you like to stuff in those pathetic letters? I remember. And do you really buy into all of that insanity?”
“Of course I do,” Monica said through gritted teeth. “Because it's right. Right for my home. Right for the rest of the world.”
“So you really are delusional. I can understand that, but why the facade at the museum? Why kill Santino? He was your boss--.”
“Hardly,” Monica laughed. “He was an imbecile. You knew that. I could tell you did. All he cared about was whatever would bring in more guests to his precious exhibits. He might have actually cared about history once but not anymore, probably not for a very long time. You saw how he was. He barely even appreciated what was being taken from all of the other museums. He wanted the sword just so he could get bodies into that place. That was all.”
“But he wasn't a threat to you.”
“Not at first, and if I'm being honest...I never planned to kill him. But he saw my mask. I made one little misstep, and he saw it...it had to be corrected. For the good of Rome.”
Nina knew her cheeks were flush with anger. The logic all of three members of the Third Triumvirate had were infuriating. “Again with that act...it wasn't for Rome. It was just for you. Covering your own ass. You screwed up and then wrote that letter to act like his death was part of the Triumvirate's plans. That's horribly messy of you and just proves my point. You three have no real plan. This whole debacle is just a sham so you can take things that don't belong to you...including people's lives!”
“You're wrong, Dr. Gould.” Monica said. “A new age is coming for Rome, and we need Caesar's sword to get us there.”
Nina just shook her head. These crazy people were surely set in their ways.
“You know what, it's a fitting choice for you to wear Caligula's face. You two lunatics are a perfect match. One in the same, really, you know that?”
Mr. Nero hobbled up the steps, still limping from the blow that Riley had managed to land to his leg. It made his ascent up the audience steps quite slow and cumbersome, but he was still coming. A knife still gleamed in his hand. It was hard to see how much pain he was in but Nina hoped that he was hurting very badly. He picked up the knife that Monica had dropped on the steps and now wielded two matching blades.
Nina looked past him down at the arena, hoping to see if Riley was okay. It wasn't a good sign that her opponent had moved on from her.
“She's alive for now,” Mr. Nero said, as if reading her thoughts. “Just knocked out. I was going to finish her, but then I heard Miss Caligula making such a fuss up here. Losing her mask.”
“Drop the roleplaying. Her name is Monica. And you can take that mask off,” Nina said calmly, motioning toward Monica. “Obviously there's no need for them anymore. You can stop hiding.”
“Oh, I'm not hiding,” Mr. Nero said. “This is my face. My real face.”
“No, it's not. It's Nero's. Just like this sword was Caesar's and not yours. You’re just trying to horde what came before and then pretend that it all belongs to you. None of it does, so you can't use them to launch some insane future you’ve planned.”
“I'm getting very tired of you”
“And I'm getting tired of that stupid mask. Disappointment abound, I guess. You three think that you’re going to be some big influence on the world. The almighty Third Triumvirate. Please...it's a bad joke. That's all it is. We’re the ones who are actually changing the world at large. We’re the Order of the Black Sun and we’re done playing pretend with you children.”
Somehow, she could see through that stone-faced stare and she knew that she had broken through. Mr. Nero was scared. When she glanced at the unmasked Miss Caligula, there was extreme fear in her eyes, too. Maybe they were finally starting to realize that the Third Triumvirate was out of their depth? The Order of the Black Sun was far greater than their club could ever hope to be.
If they wanted to restore Rome, then they’d have to extinguish the Black Sun, and that would be an impossible task for them.
Nina lunged forward, with Caesar's sword held high in her frantic fist. She brought it down on a surprised Mr. Nero who just barely managed to put up and cross his two knives defensively. The sword smashed against the parry, but the force of the sudden strike knocked Mr. Nero backwards, off balance and tumbling down the audience steps. His limp was going to be much worse now.
Monica suddenly appeared from behind her and grabbed Nina's wrist, shaking her about trying to pry Caesar's sword from her grip.
“That sword is ours!” Monica hissed.
“Like hell it is!” Nina snapped back.
Nina almost lost hold of the hilt but refused to let go. They’d come too far to lose the sword now. She wasn't going to let these juvenile terrorists win. They thought she was in the way of the Third Triumvirate's plans, but the truth was that they couldn't be more wrong. The Third Triumvirate was stifling the Order of the Black Sun and Nina's secret society was going to run right through them.
The two were entangled, each holding a wrist and keeping the other at bay. Monica started thrashing a leg out, kicking Nina. Monica was shrieking in frustration. Based on the blood lust in her eyes, Monica wanted Nina dead more than anything. She probably thought that if she killed Nina and took the sword, then all of her fantasies about a better Rome would come true. They wouldn't and it was time to knock some sense into her.
Nina swung her head forward, letting it smash into Monica's nose. She could feel it squish down and knew she had broken it. Monica screeched as blood started spilling from her nostrils. Monica loosened her grasp of Nina's wrist just enough for Nina to pull away. Nina took the opportunity to run down the arena's steps. She wanted to regroup with the others.
August was on his knees in the pit of the Hypogeum, looking like he was in a lot of pain. Mr. Commodus lay in a big heap beside him. Their fight must have been brutal since both of those enormous men were on the floor and seemingly unable to get up. He tried getting up but wobbled and then fell straight back down to the floor of the Colosseum. Nina leaped down from the stands and onto the arena floor, hoping to help August up, but Mr. Nero was back in the fight.
Mr. Nero was between her and her friends, grinding
the edges of his knives together threateningly. She looked back and saw Monica cupping her broken nose in her hands, though she wasn't stopping the blood from seeping out between her fingers. She was out of the fight for now. It was just the apparent ringleader of their three-person circus left.
Unfortunately, her own group had dwindled down to just her it seemed. The two last contestants of this duel were her and Mr. Nero. She held the sword tightly in her grasp, still not sure if she could even win this.She and Mr. Nero closed in on one another, two opponents at the center of the Roman Colosseum. She could almost hear the cheers of the spectators, wanting to see some blood be shed for their amusement.
Mr. Nero laughed from behind his mask and pointed his blade up to where the long-dead emperors used to watch from. In a big loud call, he roared out. “Ave Caesar! Morituri te salutant!”
It was old Latin, but Nina knew exactly what it meant. It translated to, “Hail Caesar! We who are about to die, salute you!” It was the customary greeting that the gladiators would give to their ruler, almost promising him a good show. It was insulting that Mr. Nero was using it, not taking this fight seriously at all. Nina hated how confident he seemed and she especially hated that his cockiness was starting to actually rattle her thoughts a little.
Nina pushed through her own doubts. She’d come this far and she was going to make it out of the Colosseum alive. So many strong and powerful men had died in this place, but she wouldn't be joining the ghosts of the gladiators. No, she would fight her way out and escape from the arena, no matter what it took.
Nina pointed her sword up just like Mr. Nero had and addressed the invisible crowd. Instead of giving the customary introduction, she went for a much less traditional approach. “I hope you enjoy watching me kick this psychopath's ass!”
Surprisingly, she felt herself get swept away in the power of the Colosseum. Even without an audience or an emperor watching her performance, Nina sensed a surge of strength. This must have been how it felt for the gladiators coming out to fight for their lives in this place, at the center of a ring where nothing mattered but defeating your enemy. This was her first and probably only chance in her life to be a true Roman gladiator in the Colosseum.
“Kick my ass?” Mr. Nero laughed and started walking toward her with his knives. “Is that the extent of your plan? This place isn't about kicking someone's ass. It's about taking someone's life. If you're not willing to do that, then you’ve already lost!”
Nina let him approach and tightened her hold on the hilt of Caesar's sword. He was wrong. She was willing to kill him, and in this place, it felt like she was obligated to do. She didn't usually feel so much bloodlust but in the Colosseum, especially after what Mr. Nero had put her through, she had no qualms about defending herself. If that meant having to put this lunatic down for good, then that was exactly what she was going to do.
Mr. Nero walked through the pit toward her and passed the pillars of the broken down Hypogeum. She glanced at her surroundings and realized all of the ruins around them would actually be helpful terrain in this fight and might even be enough to even the odds a bit. She took a breath, doing her best to stay calm despite the potential of being killed. If she died, at least she would go out swinging and fighting the Colosseum. She’d plummet in a place where countless warriors also fell. There was no shame in that.
Mr. Nero was upon her before she knew it, and she managed to keep him back with a few swipes of her sword. She still had the longer reach with her weapon than he did. If she just kept him out of her radius, then he wouldn't be able to even get a hit in successfully. That was easier said than done, he was coming at her like a wild beast. Just like before, it was so hard to determine his moves with that mask on. She hoped to catch him a stray swing and break his mask off just like she had done to Monica. She wanted to see the face of the piece of garbage that had killed Santino and was trying so hard to kill her. Then, as morbid as it was, she wanted to see the life leave whatever face was under that mask. She wanted to know that he wouldn't be standing over her bed again in the middle of the night, making threats.
Nina surprisingly deflected away a few of his knife strikes with relative ease, but she probably couldn't keep it up forever. She wasn't a skilled enough swordsman to maintain an impenetrable defensive position. He would get through at some point, and when he did, she’d likely end up with a knife in her. Nina brushed that worry away momentarily. She just had to stay focused. That was the key. If she let her mind wander or worried about anything else, her body would follow her lead and not react in time to the problem that was right in front of her.
“Look at you!” Mr. Nero jeered. “You have no right to use that sword! A peasant like you!”
Nina ignored his taunts. The only reply she wanted to give was landing a blow with her sword, but he was managing to evade the blade so far.
“That sword belongs to Rome! It belongs to a leader! Give it over now and I might just let you live after all!”
“I'm flattered!” Nina said through gritted teeth as she avoided a strike and dashed behind one of the Hypogeum's broken pillars, just to catch her breath. “But stop holding back on my account! I can promise you that I'm not going to give it up willingly! You're going to have to earn this sword if you want it so bad!”
“Fine by me!” Mr. Nero roared, swinging his arm around the pillar and trying to slice her. “I'll take it from your corpse then! You can join Santino in the dirt. You and he will just be fertilizer for the glorious Rome that we’re going to rebuild!”
Mr. Nero really was an eloquent speaker, even when he was trying to murder someone. He made it all sound so poetic and reasonable. It was lunacy but the message he was giving her was loud and clear. It was a shame that he didn't just get into politics like a normal person, where his words could really make change. Instead, he’d become a fanatical murderer with delusions of grandeur... though that didn't sound far off from most politicians after all.
His attacks were getting even more ferocious and she stumbled back away from him, trying to regain her balance. He threw one of his knives at her, probably hoping it would find its target like a well-placed dart but she got out of the way in time. It flew past her and clattered around in the stone ruins behind her. He was desperate to kill her now but a move like that had just disarmed him of one of his only two weapons. He wasn't doing himself any favors, but she wasn't going to point that out to him. He seemed to be trying to make up for his lost weapon by sprinting at her with his remaining blade. She blocked his strike and returned one of her own. Caesar's sword cut through the air and was intercepted by his knife. However, she’d swung so hard that Mr. Nero's blade fumbled out of his hand and out of his reach.
She'd done it; she’d disarmed her opponent completely. For a second, she thought she could hear the cheers from the crowds that once sat above thousands of years ago. She really was going to get out of this, victorious and alive.
Mr. Nero was backed against one of the Hypogeum pillars, his hands raised as she held the tip of Caesar's sword in front of him. She hoped he was afraid behind that mask, she wanted to see his face now that he lost. She wanted to see how close she’d brought this sicko to tears.
“Looks like you lose,” Nina said, not being able to hold back a broad smile.
“Have I?” Mr. Nero looked up at the Colosseum stands, right to where the emperor used to sit and watch. “This was usually the part where the victorious gladiator would look up for the emperor's decision. Pollice verso. That's what they called it. They’d indicate with their thumb whether they wanted the defeated gladiator to live or die. Of course, the crowd would influence their decision sometimes. It's always been up to debate if thumbs up meant to let them live or was meaning that they had the approval to kill them...it's never been clear. But I assure you, had we brought back the real Rome...had we given the Colosseum its prestige back...I would’ve restored pollice verso. As for if I lost...well...I don't see the emperor making a decision, do you?”
&nb
sp; “I don't need someone else deciding for me.”
Mr. Nero laughed again. “Fine then. Strike true.”
“First take off your mask,” Nina demanded firmly. She wanted to look into the eyes of the man that had caused her so much trouble. She wanted to see what kind of person would put on that mask and start causing so much chaos throughout Rome. “Take off the mask, I said!”
Mr. Nero lowered his hands and stood casually in front of the tip of her sword. With the passive expression of his mask, he looked entirely unimpressed by her victory, maybe even unconvinced. He gave a shrug of his shoulders.
“I'm not going to do that,” Mr. Nero said. “Not until this fight is over.”
“It is over!”
“No,” Mr. Nero kept laughing. “Not yet. Not until one of us is dead. So either I take this mask off while looking down at your corpse or you pull this mask off of mine. You want to be the victor? The real victor? Then finish it.”
Nina wanted to end this, but could she really kill an unarmed man? She thought she could kill him with ease but that was when he was coming at her with knives. Now he was backed into a corner, defenseless. Killing him at this point would seem like avoidable bloodshed. Maybe she could deliver him and his friends to Inspector Amaro? She didn't necessarily need to kill Mr. Nero after all.
“Do it!” The voice from behind those frozen lips screamed.
She didn't.
Nina stood still, just holding the blade toward him but she wasn't advancing or lunging forward. She wasn't skewering Mr. Nero like she thought she was going to. She was just keeping him against those ruins, doing her best to stay in control of the situation.
Order of the Black Sun Box Set 11 Page 32
