"Caesar," a voice whispered, though he couldn't tell from where.
The world slowed into a series of still frames. The roar of the senators became a distant hum, like the sea in a shell. He didn't fight; he simply drew his purple-trimmed toga over his head. If he was to fall, he would do so with the dignity of Rome draped over his shoulders. 1301x800 Julius Caesar Wallpaper">
The light in the Senate chamber was harsh, casting long, sharp shadows that seemed to point like daggers toward the center of the room. As he walked, the rhythmic thud of his sandals echoed, a lonely sound against the sudden, suffocating silence of the gathered elite. "Caesar," a voice whispered, though he couldn't tell
The image faded to a deep, bruised crimson, the Roman sun setting on the Republic and rising on a legend that would be etched into stone—and screens—forever. He didn't fight; he simply drew his purple-trimmed
The last thing he felt wasn't the blade, but the weight of a gaze he knew too well. Through the folds of the wool, he saw Marcus Brutus, the boy he had treated as a son. "Even you?" the thought flickered, unspoken.