[61] The fall

In our command room on Isla de Fortuna, I gathered Elara and Cassandra to discuss the latest development – an invitation from Drusus to his crowning ceremony in True Rome. The message sat open on the table, its contents clear and formal.

I broke the silence first. "We're not going to this shitshow. It's a fucking trap, and even if it's not, it ties our hands. We need to stay flexible."

Elara, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, attending that crowning ceremony is like putting our heads in the lion's mouth. Drusus is desperate, and desperate men do stupid shit."

Cassandra, standing by the window, her gaze fixed on the horizon, spoke in her usual succinct manner. "It's a power play. He wants to parade us as his allies, show off his control. Fuck that."

I continued, "Exactly. If we show up, it's like declaring our full support for his New Imperium. That limits our options. NRE is still a major player, and they control the entire eastern part of their former empire. We can't put all our eggs in one basket."

Elara pushed off the wall, joining us at the table. "So, we turn down the invitation. But how do we play this? Drusus won't take it well."

I pondered for a moment. "We don't reply. Let him stew in his own paranoia. If he confronts us, we play it cool, say we're busy securing our recent gains. It's not a 'no,' it's a 'not right now.'"

Cassandra smirked, her expression one of amusement. "Let him sweat. Drusus needs us more than we need him. The NRE might be licking its wounds, but they're not out. We could use that, play both sides."

Elara chuckled, "I can already imagine Drusus's face when he doesn't see us at his precious ceremony. He's going to lose his shit."

I nodded, "And that's exactly what we want. We need to keep him guessing, keep him off-balance. As long as he's unsure about us, he can't fully commit to any move against us."

Cassandra added, "And if NRE reaches out for a deal, we'll be in a position to negotiate. We have the upper hand now, with control over key locations. Let's not waste it by tying ourselves to Drusus's sinking ship."

I leaned back in my chair, looking at both of them. "We're playing a high-stakes game here. But if we're smart, we can come out on top, no matter which way the wind blows. For now, we consolidate our power, fortify our positions, and wait. Let the others make the first move."

***

Three days later, the grand hall of True Rome was filled to the brim for the crowning ceremony of Drusus, the proclaimed leader of the New Imperium. Nobles, soldiers, and citizens of the city gathered to witness the historic event, the air thick with anticipation and unease.

Drusus stood on the elevated platform at the front of the hall, his attire lavish, befitting the occasion. The crowd was a mix of supporters and those who attended out of curiosity or obligation, their expressions varying from admiration to skepticism.

As the ceremony progressed, Drusus stepped forward to address the assembly. His speech was a blend of grandiose promises and self-praise, painting a picture of a prosperous and powerful future under his rule.

"And so," Drusus concluded, his voice resonating through the hall, "we stand on the brink of a new era, an era of strength, prosperity, and glory under the New Imperium."

The applause that followed was polite but lacked genuine enthusiasm, reflecting the undercurrent of discontent that had been brewing in the city.

As Drusus turned to receive his crown, a symbol of his authority and the culmination of his ambition, a sudden movement caught the crowd's attention.

A group of his generals, men who had been his closest allies and confidants, approached the platform. The mood shifted palpably, the air now charged with a sense of impending doom.

Without warning, the generals drew their daggers and lunged at Drusus. The first blade struck him in the back, piercing his regal attire. Drusus let out a shocked gasp, his eyes wide with disbelief.

The crowd erupted into chaos, screams and shouts filling the hall as more blades found their mark. Drusus staggered, each stab sending jolts of pain through his body. His avatar flickered, the image distorting with each successive blow.

In a matter of seconds, Drusus collapsed on the stage, his body dissolving into thousands of red pixels, scattering into the air like a cloud of blood. The man who had risen to power through betrayal and cunning had fallen by the same sword.

One of the generals, a stern-faced man with a scar across his cheek, stepped forward, his voice cutting through the turmoil. "The New Imperium is dissolved! This city, this empire, will now be governed by a military council for its protection and stability!"

The declaration was met with a mix of outrage and support. A riot broke out in the hall, factions clashing amidst the confusion. Outside, the city streets erupted into chaos as news of the coup spread like wildfire.

Troops, loyal to the new military council, moved in to quell the riots. The sounds of conflict echoed through the streets, the clash of steel and the cries of combatants filling the air.

In the midst of this turmoil, the power dynamics of the city were irrevocably altered. Drusus's death marked the end of his short-lived empire and the beginning of a new, uncertain chapter in the history of True Rome.

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