Behind him two columns of black armored two meters tall warriors marched in perfect unison. The Death Squad.
Men who looked like could snap a normal man In half with their bare hands, their armor still glowing faintly from the heat of battle, their white skull shaped face plates giving them the appearance of the damned.
Behind them? The prisoners. Bound in iron chains, heads lowered, faces pale with despair.
They shuffled forward under heavy guard, the Cerberus military police In black uniforms flanking them on both sides, their hands gripping their bolt action rifles, daring them to try anything.
For a moment, there was silence. Then. A roar. It started as a single voice. Then, it grew. Like a rising storm.
"HAIL IMPERATOR! HAIL IMPERATOR! HAIL IMPERATOR!"
The crowd erupted. Men cheered, clapping their hands together, stomping their feet. Women wept, holding onto their loved ones, whispering prayers of thanks.
Children jumped up and down, their tiny voices joining the massive chant. The streets shook as thousands of voices shouted his name, over and over, louder and louder.
The air was electric. The streets of Nova Roma trembled as the Imperator and his procession moved through the heart of the capital.
The masses lined every avenue, pressed against the stone facades of ancient buildings, watching, whispering, chanting.
No one noticed when it happened. A tiny figure, no older than five, darted past the feet of the gathered crowd, her little hands chasing after a battered leather ball.
She ran straight into the Imperator's path. Gasps rippled through the crowd. For a single heartbeat, the entire world seemed to freeze.
Her mother, a young woman dressed in simple but neat woolen garments, lunged forward, her heart in her throat.
She grabbed her daughter, yanking her close, falling to her knees before the Imperator's massive war beast.
Terror etched across her face. Her arms tightened around her child, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Forgive me… Imperator. She... she didn't mean... she's just a child, I beg you, please, have mercy!"
The silence was suffocating. The cerberus military police soldiers tensed. The crowd held its breath. No one moved. No one dared.
The Imperator a figure of war, clad in scorched and dented armor, still carrying the scent of battle stopped.
His crimson gaze fell upon the kneeling woman and the trembling child. And then… He did something no one expected.
The Imperator lifted a single hand and patted his colossal war beast. Lupa growled softly, her golden eyes flashing, then. She lowered herself, sinking onto all fours.
The crowd stared in stunned silence. Then, before anyone could even comprehend what was happening, the Imperator stepped forward.
He moved past his elite warriors, past the death squad, past the Cerberus soldiers. And he knelt. Before the mother and child. Gasps erupted from the crowd.
Some whispered, some clutched their chests, others simply stood frozen, as if unable to process what they were seeing.
The Imperator, the fenrir of the Imperium, the man who had burned cities, shattered armies, purged traitors by the thousands.
Knelt. His over 1.8 meters tall armored frame lowered onto one knee, his bloodied hands reaching forward.
Slowly, gently, he placed them on the trembling mother's arms, forcefully lifting her up. Her eyes widened in pure disbelief.
"You,"
His voice, rough but steady, carried through the stunned silence.
"You are a mother of the Imperium. A woman who carries the future of this nation in her arms."
The young woman shook, unable to find words.
"You should never kneel,"
The Imperator continued.
"Not to me. Not to anyone. And certainly not for something as simple as your child chasing her ball."
His voice rose, deep and commanding, shaking the very air.
"Tell me, what kind of ruler would I be if I punished a mother for protecting her child? If I punished a child for something so pure, so innocent?"
The crowd erupted. Whispers became gasps. Gasps became shouts. And then...
"HAIL IMPERATOR!"
"HAIL THE FENRIR!"
"HAIL THE PROTECTOR OF OUR CHILDREN!"
Before the woman could even react, the Imperator scooped her up. A princess carry. The woman let out a soft gasp, her eyes wide with shock.
Before she could even protest, he moved, placing her atop Lupa's massive back.
The war beast rumbled lowly, her tail flicking, her presence overwhelming, yet she remained still, obedient.
The child, clutching her mother tightly, blinked in astonishment. The Imperator turned to the people.
"LOOK!"
He thundered, his voice booming like a war drum.
"LOOK AT THIS WOMAN! A SPARTAN WOMAN! A MOTHER OF THE IMPERIUM!"
He gestured to the child in her arms.
"And look at this girl! SHE IS OUR FUTURE! YOUR FUTURE! THE FUTURE OF THE IMPERIUM!"
The crowd lost its mind. Women wept. Men roared. Even the reporters, their hands shaking, scribbled furiously onto their notepads.
The photographers snapped pictures, capturing the moment that would soon flood every newspaper in the Ducatum.
The Imperator turned, his half crimson cloak billowing as he faced the palace gates. Then he did the unthinkable.
He walked. He didn't remount his war beast. He didn't return to his towering presence atop Lupa. He walked forward, leading the entire column himself.
Like a man leading his people home. The Death Squad fell into formation. The Cerberus troops adjusted their grips on their weapons.
The prisoners shuffled forward in chains, their heads lowered, knowing there was no escape. And the city? The city shook. People wept openly.
Children pointed, shouting his name. Merchants, workers, even former skeptics, bowed their heads, murmuring prayers of devotion.
The streets of Nova Roma trembled as their ruler led his people. While Cerberus field operatives, already stationed throughout the city, raised their megaphones, their voices booming over the crowd.
"CITIZENS OF NOVA ROMA!"
The chaos began to quiet, thousands of heads turning, listening.
"A PUBLIC TRIAL WILL BE HELD AT THE IMPERIAL PALACE!"
A pause.
"TODAY, THE TERRORISTS THAT HA PLAQUED US WILL ANSWER FOR THEIR CRIMES! TODAY, JUSTICE WILL BE SERVED!"
Another roar from the crowd. Excitement. Fury. Anticipation.
The Cerberus operatives continued, their voices ringing through every street, every plaza, every alleyway.
"THE IMPERATOR INVITES ALL LOYAL CITIZENS TO WITNESS THE VERDICT! TO SEE WITH YOUR OWN EYES THE JUSTICE OF THE IMPERIUM!"
An old drunken ex legioneer, sitting on the steps of a tavern, grinned through broken teeth.
"Finally,"
He spat,
"those bastards are getting what's coming to 'em."
A young noblewoman, clutching a silk fan, glanced at her husband.
"First the nobles..."
She whispered, her lips trembling.
"...now them, how long before the Imperator once again turns his executioner blade to us?"
Her husband once a staunch senator's son, now just another citizen under Imperial rule nodded grimly.
"I dont know..."
He muttered. The Imperator and his procession continued, winding through the grand avenues toward the Imperial Palace.
The closer they got, the larger the crowds became. The gates of the palace square had already been thrown open.
And before them? A massive, towering stage had been erected. At the center of it, rows of wooden posts, each one marked for the condemned.
And at the very front? The firing line.
The paratroopers of the first cohort stood in formation, rifles at the ready, their faces set in stone. This wasn't just an execution. This was a statement.
...
MC POV
The moment my combat boots touched the marble of the palace entrance steps, I exhaled. The weight of battle, the exhaustion, the accumulated fatigue it all pressed down on me, but I didn't let it show.
The crowd was still roaring, their voices an ocean of fury, celebration, and bloodthirsty anticipation.
With a single wave of my hand, I motioned toward the military tribunal that had been waiting for this moment, their eyes shadowed by exhaustion, judges barely keeping themselves upright from sleepless nights of condemning criminals to service making sue that the most heinous of the would contribute their lives to the Imperium as fast as possible.
"Begin,"
I commanded, my voice cutting through the noise like a blade through flesh.
I didn't wait for a response. Instead, I strode toward the massive, hastily built throne at the center of the square a gilded, makeshift seat that loomed over the tribunal below. The perfect place for a ruler to observe justice unfold.
I plopped down onto it, leaning into the hard wood and iron frame. Finally. A moment to breathe. I adjusted my posture slightly, my gauntlets tapping against the armrest as I watched the trial begin.
The chief magistrate, an older man with dark bags under his eyes, rose to his feet, clearing his throat. He unrolled a parchment, one that had been prepared long before the prisoners had even been captured.
"Citizens of Nova Roma,"
His voice rang out, amplified by the megaphones stationed around the plaza.
"Today, we pass judgment on those who have sowed terror, murdered our people, and sought to bring ruin upon the Imperium."
A ripple of anger ran through the crowd. The magistrate continued, his voice unwavering.