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.
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. 1301x800 Julius Caesar Wallpaper">
He reached the pedestal, the golden laurel on his brow feeling heavier than a crown of lead. To his left, he saw the glint of steel beneath a robe—a flicker of betrayal captured in high definition. The first strike was a mistake, a glancing blow to the shoulder that felt more like a sting than a wound. But then came the others. The image faded to a deep, bruised crimson,