“Farewell, Toni.” I said, as I stood over his coffin, resting my hand on the side.

It had been a week since the attack on my life by Theseas Claudion and even longer since Antonias was killed, but even my Imperator’s sense of smell could not detect the beginnings of decay. A Bronze Imperator’s body was slow to rot. His face had been ruined by the piercing of his helm by the Subgovernor’s claws, and so the solution to the funeral workers had devised was a mask shaped like his face, more solemn and stately than he had ever been in life. There was no smile or smirk, no look of annoyance or happiness, no anger or sorrow or ecstasy. His body may have lacked a pulse, but the mask was what made him look the most departed from his mortal flesh.

I was acutely aware of the fact that everyone in attendance at Antonias’s funeral was no doubt using their enhanced hearing to spy on every word I said to my friend’s body, so I kept my thoughts to myself. Antonias had been a flawed person, in many ways my opposite, someone who indulged in excesses and abused drink and substances but watching him become more than what he once was had made me extremely proud of him.

It was perhaps strange to say, but in a way, Antonias had been my first true friend in my short time in this life. I had always been distant to others when I was a Servus, too focused on advancing in Rank to find time to play and considered stuck up by some with my disinterest in drinking. When I first became an Imperator, I had found Livia early on, but that relationship had always been shaped by the disparity between our Paths. The other gladiators were always held at arm’s length by the secrecy of my hidden identity as a mystery fighter called Commodas. Antonias had been the first equal that I had grown to like after I had saved him.

I was just glad we were on Amatius, far away from me having to face Antonias’s parents on Sunburst Station or Junia on Iulius, where she was staying together in an apartment with Livia.

Overcome by emotion, suddenly not caring if others heard me, I spoke.

“We were going to be Golden together…” I said. Tears did not come, but I wished that they had even if it made me look weak.

My fingers tightened on the casket’s side, leaving imprints and grief welled up in me. I hated the blank faced mask that lacked all of the vitality within it with a savage feeling.

“Wait, Adrias!” Alsig cried out in my head as I took the funeral mask off his face and set it aside, making those in attendance gasp, and revealing the damage that had been done as Marias Maxion’s dragon claws had punctured his head.

Seeing the injury that had killed my friend had not made me feel better and the fire of Heracles tried to rise within me and set my heart and blood ablaze. I forced it down with the strength of my will, unleashing it while I was unstable at an event surrounded by innocent bystanders was as foolhardy and risky as driving a hovercar manually while being intoxicated down a residential neighborhood or school zone. At best, I burned off my clothes in a divine temper tantrum, at worst, I slaughtered the attendees in a sorrowful massacre.

Nothing would quell the pain though and I was struggling to find a way to constructively direct it or beat it back down into the confines of my subconscious. The rational thing to do would be to put the mask back on, say some worthless but inspiring words to the crowd and then carry myself back to some place to break something valuable in private. I had never been very rational though, reserved and disciplined when it came to laxness in training, yes, but when it came to risk taking or violence my self-control sometimes got thrown out the window.

I had no outlet though, I grit my teeth as the emotion built in my chest, until I noticed a green vine creeping up from a crack in the cobblestones in the outside venue we were having the funeral and the vine snaking up the coffin’s side and onto Antonias’s body.

“What’s happening?” Alsig asked.

I shook my head; I did not know. My divine power was not active, my Imperial psychic strength was not causing the growth, and I could not sense the mental influence of anyone else in attendance controlling the plant’s growth. It was seemingly doing it of its own accord and on its own ability. The vine reached Antonias’s ruined visage and grew from there, spreading out branching vines and weaving together. The plant growth snapped its connection to the ground and I watched as it formed itself into a second mask, but this one was different.

This emerald-colored mask held expression, held life and vitality, a quirk of the lips and a twist to his features giving the new mask a cheeky grin. It took my breath away.

“How is this happening?” Alsig asked me in wonder.

I studied it with my Silver’s senses and found a thread of energy leading back to me, which did not make any sense at all. I was not commanding the vines with psychic sorcery from my Path nor was I using the inheritance from Augustas’s divine blood, and yet somehow, I was achieving something unnatural. The only other component to me was what genetic remnants of my old Path and bloodline remained, but that did not make any sense.

Whatever the cause, I felt more at peace now though and I turned and departed. As I walked out of the funeral setting, I kept my eyes staring directly ahead and my expression set in calmness, but I felt the stares of everyone around me. No doubt word of this would spread, word from those with the ability to perceive such things telling their subordinates and friends that I had not used an Imperator’s psychic powers to accomplish it. I sighed as I walked to the after party, things were starting to get out of hand regarding the rumors and speculations about my semidivinity. I was told that there were shrines to me now all over Amatius, developments of mystery cults that studied my every action and scrutinized every detail of my life they could get their hands on.

I accepted wine and appetizers from a server at the after party and stood alone. The guests seemed both magnetically drawn to me and repelled from me, circling my orbit, drawn to my presence like moths to a flame but too wary to be like Ikaros flying too close to the blazing sun and being smacked down to earth. I’m sure it was all very exciting and nerve wracking to them as they dared each other to be the first to approach me and offer false condolences, but for me it was just boring. I was just about to leave when Caesia and Kato came up to me.

“Hey.” Caesia said shyly.

I tried to gauge whether they were still angry with me but all I detected was nervousness and a tinge of fear.

“Hello, Caesia, Kato.” I acknowledged them.

“Congratulations on your Governorship and making Silver.” Caesia said awkwardly.

“I’m more focused on Toni right now than my position and Rank.” I said, moving to leave as it became clear that nothing real was going to come out of this.

“We wanted to see you,” Kato said blurted out. “But your guards and staff would not let anyone anywhere near you.”

“We wanted to say that we were sorry.” Caesia added. “After Pollixa died everyone was so angry, but that’s cooled now. Everyone wants to see you again.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Everyone?”

“Well… not Diokletian, but that’s kind of more because… you know…” She said.

“I executed his father and took Theseas’s place.” I finished.

“Yeah, that.” Caesia said.

Dio had had a rocky relationship with his father, I had met him by coming across him making crude and treasonous graffiti insulting the Governor, but just because he was rebelling against the man did not necessarily mean he welcomed his death.

“There’s nothing he can do to me now, but we can avoid him in any future meetings between us.” I said.

“Actually, we thought we might take you to a place where some of us are now.” Kato said with an excited, animated expression.

Then an arm was thrown over my shoulder, an arm I had not sensed coming with my Silver perceptions which meant it was another Silver.

“Lovely service.” Persias Fulvion said cheerfully before dragging me away from Kato and Caesia. “There’s some people I want you to meet.”

He brought me to the place he had established as House Fulvion’s private estate within our ever-growing and expanding base and led me into his study where six other Silvers were waiting.

“And these are?” I asked him.

“New arrivals,” He said with a foxlike grin. “Other heads of Great Iulian Houses here to swear loyalty.”

“Couldn’t they have all met me in my command headquarters and residence here?” I said.

“I thought we would get started with the war planning right away and they were already here visiting me.” Persias said.

“What war planning?” I asked.

“To conquer Iulius back, of course. The remaining Houses have banded around the remnants of House Claudion and have declared you a traitor and are claiming you’re responsible for the Servi uprisings.” Persias said.

“That’s impossible.” I said, taken aback. “I’ve been a part of the Scholarium and the Guard, under constant watch and observation, there’s no way I could run such a massive operation under their noses.”

“Gods do the impossible.” He replied.

“I’m not a god.” I said.

“Everyone thinks you are, which is ninety percent of being a god.” Persias said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Now, let’s get to planning.”