It did not take kindly to those who questioned its authority. And if she was to survive, if she was to remain by his side, if she was to understand what had truly taken hold of the Imperator. Then she would have to do what the rest of the Ducatum was doing.
Bow. Obey. And pray that whatever he had become… would not turn its gaze upon her. And with that, she walked on. Silently. Fearfully. And in her heart. With a prayer that, this time, the g*ds would actually answer.
...
Imperial Palace several Hours Later
The Throne Hall, once filled with the trembling voices of senators, nobles, and priests, was now eerily silent.
The golden glow of the g*ds' anointment had faded, leaving only the flickering torchlight and the scent of burning incense mixed with something else... Blood.
It pooled across the marble floor, dark and glistening beneath the dim light.
The headless corpse lay motionless at the foot of the dais, its severed head resting nearby, its expression frozen forever in shock, in horror, in disbelief.
And I? I sat slumped in my steel throne, my body heavy with exhaustion, my eyes absentmindedly fixed on the blood.
For the first time since this insanity began, I wasn't thinking, wasn't strategizing, wasn't scheming.
I was just watching. Watching what I had done. Yet what made me most horrified of myself was those voices.
I didn't write them, they shouldn't exist so there were only two possibilities.
One It was the remmanant soul of my books MC f*cking with me, trying to torment me, trying to collect It's due a hundred times, trying to turn me Into the same twisted existence I made him Into.
Or the second option, the ERC, now unlike the MC I wasn't the Einherjar an all any kind of matter related to psionics nemesis.
I wasn't the all anti psionic artificially created weapon of mass destruction that could kill a living being by just being next to him.
So ERC was having a field day with my psiche, using the psionic energy awakened Inside my body thanks to genetic restructioring serum to mess with my head, basically what just happened was the evil side of psionic energy taking over.
And It was going to get worse, a lot worse and fast and I had no means of protecting myself well of course that's as long as I didn't cheat.
But If I did then It would only get even worse even faster, so frankly speaking I was knees deep In s*it without any options to save myself once so ever, f*cking hell what did I expect then I jammed that syringe Into my neck?
Normally after getting administered the genetic restructuring serum an average human would have only 1 percent chance of awakening the dormant psionic power Inside his body, but i forgot one crucial detail the body of MC wasnt that of an average human.
But a body that could contain the soul of Einherjar and Its anti psionic energy so of course I would have a 110 percent chance of awakening my psionic power.
Just thinking about It made me angry, confused, depressed, It made want to kill something or someone!
F*ck, no! Snap out of It man! It's the evil side talking! It f*cking trives on these kinds of emotions like a f*cking parasite! F*ck why did I have to get hooked on s*are w*rs?! F*ck me and my life!
I cursed In my mind only for the silence to be finally broken.
"You know…"
The voice was deep, rough, carrying the weight of decades of war and rule.
"...this is not going to end with just that."
The ex-Emperor, Augustus Von Death, stood opposite me, his old, scarred hands clapped behind his back looking like a classical wuxha elder giving advice to his youngster all that was missing a long white beard and him stroking It.
His sharp light crimson eyes watching me carefully like a predator observing another.
He had been silent through everything, through my ascension, through the execution, through the gathered crowd of the most Influential people In the whole Ducatum surrender.
But now? Now he spoke. I didn't move. Didn't turn to look at him.
I just kept staring at the blood, at the cold remnants of the man I had just executed.
"I know..."
My voice was hoarse, dull, but there was no hesitation in it.
Suddenly heavy boots echoed through the chamber.
The Praetor of Cerberus, the Emperor's Shadow, the man who had dictated the fate of countless enemies of the state, entered.
Flanked by two of my paratroopers, he strode forward, his black service uniform still neatly pressed, his presence as unshakable as iron.
First, his eyes fell on the corpse. Then, on the ex-Emperor.
Then, on Lupa, who lay beside my steel throne, silent and watchful.
And finally, on me. He raised his hand in a sharp military salute.
I didn't hesitate. I lifted a finger, pointed at the corpse on the ground, and gave my first true command as Imperator.
"Liquidate his entire family."
The Praetor's expression didn't change. I continued, my voice cold, flat.
"I don't want even a single speck of him left in this world. By tomorrow, his entire bloodline should be erased."
I just coldbloodedly condemned dozens, perhaps hundreds of Innocents to their deaths, as for the exact number I wasn't sure I never wrote It.
Silence. For a brief moment, the Praetor glanced at my grandfather. Augustus said nothing.
Not a single word. Not a single protest. He simply stood there, watching, as if waiting to see how far I would take this.
Finally, the Praetor spoke, his voice even, absolute.
"Yes, Imperator."
There was no hesitation. No doubt. Only a brutal understanding of what needed to be done. I didn't stop there.
"The rest of my paratroopers are at your full disposal."
Another pause. I could see him considering my words carefully, but I wasn't finished.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, my crimson eyes burning with an order far darker.
"I want you to arrest every member of the Imperial family."
Now, Augustus finally moved. His sharp eyes flicked toward me, his fingers clenching slightly against his knee. The Praetor, however, didn't react. I continued.
"Strip them of everything, by tomorrow, I want to be the only Von Death with a single ducat to his name and If any of them resist, execute them on the spot."
The room felt colder, this time, the Praetor hesitated.
For the first time since he had entered, he narrowed his eyes slightly, his lips pressing into a thin line.
"If I do this, Imperator… then my fate is tied to yours."
His meaning was clear, If I fell, so would he. If I was dethroned, his head would roll alongside mine.
I exhaled sharply.
"If you don't want to, just say it."
I gestured with my hand toward one of my paratroopers.
The soldier immediately raised his rifle, safety switched off with a not so loud click, his finger hovering over the trigger, waiting for the command.
The Praetor's gaze didn't waver, then he sighed.
"Understood, Imperator."
His voice carried a new edge now. A resolve.
"Your wish is my command."
He lifted his hand in another salute, but this time, there was something different in his eyes.
A look that meant rivers of blood would be spilled before sunrise.
"Hail Imperator"
With a single shout, he turned, his long military trench coat billowing as he marched toward the exit.
The remaining paratroopers followed, their combat boots thudding in perfect unison, leaving behind only a handful of my elite First Cohort for palace defense, the hunt had begun.
The room fell into silence once more as the last paratroopers exited.
The only ones left were me, my grandfather, my personal death squad, and Lupa.
Finally, after a long stretch of quiet, Augustus spoke again.
"Are you really him?"
His voice was measured, unreadable.
"The first Imperator?"
I turned to him, my expression neutral, empty.
Then, with the same certainty I had written into the original story, I answered.
"Yes."
His eyes studied me. Then, without another word, he nodded. As he did I stood.
Immediately, a contubernium of my elite paratroopers aka my own personal death squad fell into formation, their assault rifles secured, their gazes sharp as blades.
Lupa padded beside me, her massive frame a silent specter of protection.
I strode toward the back exit leading deeper Into the Imperial Palace my mind a storm of thoughts, of calculations, of futures written in blood.
But just as I rounded the first corner, something hit me. A wave of nausea. A suffocating, gut wrenching wave of sickness.
My body stumbled against the wall, my armored glove gripping the cold stone for support.
Then, I vomited. My stomach wrenched, twisted, emptied itself onto the marble floor.