The Great Capital was as splendid as ever. Cladius had missed the beauty of the harmonious marble walls, the multi-storey houses, and the Temple of Jupiter with its hundred pillars, which made him feel small. He missed the protective gaze of the Huntress Goddess, overseeing the eternal red roofs and bustling streets of the greatest city in the world.

His wooden carriage took him to the Patrician District, to a vast villa on the high terraces reserved for the elite of the Itruschian Empire. The place was guarded by armed Teutish men wearing riveted chain mail and bronze helmets. They looked at him with caution, perhaps never having seen a black man before.

He retrieved his identification, a scroll hanging from a golden vial around his neck. The Teutons glanced at the unmistakable seal of the Senate, surprised, and allowed him to pass. Inside, he was greeted by a northern slave and soon found himself facing the Consul on a high balcony overlooking a thousand red roofs and countless pillars. He took a deep breath. He had decided to meet Consul Kalius before seeing his family; he couldn’t afford to be late.

“Thank you for welcoming me again, Consul,” Cladius bowed his head. “I felt it necessary to discuss the matter in person, rather than through correspondence.”

“I understand, young senator,” said the consul, his voice tired and sad. “Before we begin, may I offer you some wine?”

“Not for now, thank you,” Cladius replied with a polite smile.

“You’re sweating like a pig, old Cladius. Your journey must have been exhausting, no?”

“Do not worry about me, sire. The trip was long, but necessary. I would like to be brief.”

“Stop being so formal, senator,” Kalius said, turning around and snapping his fingers.

The old man signaled to two northern slaves dressed in purple tunics and wearing gold rings. They bowed their heads and headed towards the cellar. The old Consul lounged back on his gold-coated couch, resting his chin on his right hand. Each of his fingers was adorned with rings made of gold and precious pearls.

“I have read your letters,” the old man said. “I had a bad feeling about the entire situation. It spiraled out of control. So, you believe Larius is guilty of murder, correct?”

“Indeed. He is responsible for the deaths of more than eleven hundred innocent men,” Cladius murmured. “You read my report; there was no evidence of a conspiracy. The operation only brought suffering, and the spoils of the assault were minimal, while the local industry was destroyed.”

“Well, it seems you’re the one keeping it alive.”

One of the slaves returned, carrying a tray with vases, olives, and thick grapes in deep red and pale green colors. Two clay vases were placed on the carved table before them. The other slave brought a tall jar adorned with a Hellenian motif painted on its long body and poured aromatic wine into the clay vase. The sweet scent of fermented fruit and spices wafted through his nostrils.The Consul was the first to pluck a grape and chew it with his mouth open.

“Enjoy yourself, young senator,” the Consul said. “It’s just some light snacks, as you said you have more business to deal with. I hope I can invite you and your family for dinner one of these days.”

“Thank you for your hospitality.” Cladius extended his hand and picked a plum olive. He savored it, the sour and oily taste caressing his tongue. That was the flavor of Itruschia, and he missed it like a dog yearning for its owner.

“You may continue your story,” the Consul said. “Oh, how blessed we are to live here. Try the wine, it comes all the way from Hispanya.”

“Oh, does it?” Cladius held the vase close to his nose and smelled its spices. It was deep purple and looked pretty thick. He tasted it. “It’s wonderful,” he said, and sipped it like a thirsty man in a desert oasis. Maybe that was what he needed before meeting his wife again.

He cleared his throat; he still had important things to talk about.

“About preserving the industry,” Cladius continued. “I have tried, sir. I would not like to brag, but that land is seriously deficient for farming, and my efforts along with the few artisans that are left in the village are the only things producing any profit. We are wasting the year since we have not found enough personnel to work on the fields, and with the battle they’ve been preparing for, the land will be ravaged further. Those lands are a waste. The only thing of value they had, economically speaking, was its gold industry. What Larius did destroyed the place.”

“Young man,” the Consul said, his bronze teeth almost falling off. “And yet, you keep talking about Larius. The perpetrator is already dead. No one can bring the dead back.”

“I would only like to ensure the welfare of those people and bring prosperity both to them and the empire. They have suffered much. Commander Florianus keeps terrorizing them. I would like to take charge as Governor and rebuild it, not on fear and warfare. I know I can make the village and the entire province prosperous and happy. I just need your help to take full control of it.”

“I cannot do much, but you have my recommendation at the senate, I will support you in your campaign. But this Empire is ruled by laws, not by the whims of the powerful. By law, we must work. You need a sponsor.”

And yet, Cladius knew there were groups of power competing for control and for their own whims and wishes. Others built their policies on mere hate, like Larius had.”I would like the truth to be known,” Cladius continued. “So that it doesn’t happen again. I want their terror to end. I know they can be free and not suffer. Their husbands are soldiers, part of the same army that killed their fathers and previous husbands. They’re the most miserable people in the world. On top of that, Florianus keeps threatening them. I have never met a people so disciplined and orderly, and yet, they fear for their lives in their own homes.”

“But what can you give them?” the Consul asked. “They don’t have a leader. According to their reports, those women have been deprived of everything.”

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“Freedom and prosperity. I brought you clothes of their making. A great industry lies there, hindered by Florianus, who doesn’t let them work.”

“Women artisans?”

“They are women, but they’re the best. Think of it commercially, clothes with a quality so great it matches the silk robes of Qin, for less than half the prize. Produced within the empire. But now, Florianus has only authorized one production center.”

The Consul scratched his white beard.

“You know what? I will help you. Let me just find the right connections, and you’ll have a secure post on the Provincial Government.” The Consul sighed. “I’ve invested money and time on proposals that have turned out to be scams, but I trust in your abilities.”

“Scams? May I ask you about them?”

The consul chuckled.

“Right before the war, someone told me he had developed a sort of… magic. So invincible that he could destroy a barbarian army on the move. He had a research building, the blueprints are at the senatorial plaza. His wonder weapon did not work, only killed four of our men. He just left with all my money and went East, never to be seen again.”

“What was the name, may I ask?”

“The name is not important, anyway, don’t think about that, Cladius, just brings me bad memories.” He laughed at himself. “How could I have been so foolish? Anyway, I am sure I am not making a mistake with you.”

“Thank you, Consul. The souls of hundreds will be thankful for you.” He raised his vase. “To a glorious and holy Empire!”

He drank his vase dry and placed it back on the table, bowed his head and stood up.

“I must go now, I thank you for listening.”

“I wish you luck, Senator Cladius.”

He said goodbye and walked out. He would have to visit more politicians in order to make his cause known. He knew he could not appeal to their sense of morality, instead, to the prospect of economic growth. That had been the reason why his friends had fallen into Larius’ game. Now, he would have to play smarter.

His carriage driver was sleeping under a small canopy of wood, snoring and drooling over his green toga.

“I’m back,” Cladius said with a smile.

The man jumped in fright. “Where to, sire?” he asked, shaking his head after coming back to his senses.Cladius climbed the carved wood of the carriage and sat on the padded seat, almost squeezed by the gifts and packages he brought for his family. “Go to the Temple of Jupiter and I’ll guide you from there.”

“At this time of day? Do you want me to go through the main road? The festival is starting soon. It will be full of people, sire. I usually go through the Hill of the Sun if I may.”

“Whichever you think is best. You know what, I don’t need to get there fast, the longer you take, the better.”

“As you wish,” the old driver said and lightly whipped his horses. Cladius gave a long sigh and reclined his head back into the pillow. Coming back unannounced was frightening. He expected Lucretia to react as always, with screams and accusations. He was prepared to listen, or rather, to pretend he did. And yet, how he missed her. He could not afford to lose her. And he could not survive losing his young children.

The road to the temple was crowded, hundreds of people assembling stands of wood and blocking the crossing chariots and pedestrians, as the festival for the Jupiter Crown would start the very next day. People made way for the carriage, but it took a long time, and the crowds seemed to make the horses nervous.

They steadily advanced through the temple street, the wide, gargantuan stairs leading to the statue of the Thunderer, shielded by tall pillars, eternally crammed with devotees, priests, and merchants. They crossed through it in awe. Cladius thanked the Thunderer for bringing justice and begged once again, in his mind, for a brighter future to shine over the people of Adachia.

“Now, sir?” the driver asked.

“Ah, yes. Turn on that corner, the narrow road.”

“That one? Sir, with all the packages you’re carrying...”

“It’s safe. They know me.”

“Fine,” the driver pulled the reins and guided the horses to turn.

“We’re almost there,” Cladius said with a wide smile, as the driver seemed more frustrated than he was. Almost there. He counted the packages, making sure he had not forgotten any of them before entering the city. They contained gifts for his children and wife. A fine hemp dress for his wife and a mirror of gold auctioned from Gadalian treasures, a ragdoll made especially for little Lenna, a wooden doll for Lana, and a sword of bone and wood for his boy Heracles. He had been away for almost an entire season and received few letters.

Suddenly, the carriage bumped upward, as if they had passed through a pothole.

“What was that?” Cladius said, looking back at the narrow street, where people seemed as confused as he was.

The driver peeked back, surprised, searching for the mysterious pothole with his eyes.

And then, it happened again, it sounded like a wall cracking down over the city.

“What?” Cladius recognized the sound, the shaking of the ground. It brimmed in his mind, and he paled. He had felt a similar quake months prior, the day Larius’ head was found in the snow-covered forest. The carriage had stopped.

“Give me one minute,” Cladius said to the driver. “I will go and take a look.”

He stepped outside of the carriage, still holding onto the wooden walls.

Behind him, the cries of the multitude’s screams pierced the air. The earth shook again, and again, each of the tremors becoming more destructive, cracking the walls of the buildings, tumbling people and wooden structures to the ground. The driver’s face became pale.

Cladius turned, his head held high. A figure had emerged among the buildings, towering over them like a tree. Its body was red, like cinnabar, and its torso seemed solid, almost shiny, as if covered by a blood-painted cuirass. Instead of a face, it had an elliptical mask covered with bulging eyes. Cladius looked away in fright.

Cladius’ heart shrank inside, and he remained paralyzed as the creature stepped forward, tearing down a wall and causing the bricks to descend upon men and women at the edge of the street.

The horns of the Battle rang again, after fifteen years, sounding an alarm for the Defensive Squadron to form. And yet, what could they do against that creature? Was this not the greatest city on earth? And yet, mere men, not Titans, had challenged it a decade ago.

What could they do against the evil gods of yesteryear?

And then he saw a catapult go off, crashing into the giant. It stumbled back, losing its balance and crashing into a consulate building. How many had been sacrificed there?

But the beast sprung up, as if nothing had happened. It kept moving, crushing devotees of the Thunderer under its feet, destroying the stairs to his temple, and tearing down pillars as if they were made of clay.

The roof collapsed, and Cladius wished he was dreaming.

Another tremor shook the earth, and Cladius looked back. Another creature walked towards them, taller than any building around, even covering the hills with its back. Its skin was as white as snow, and it had one eye in its white face, devoid of a nose or mouth. Cladius lost control of his body and wet his fine toga, his eyes fixed on the beast. The creature’s body resembled a human, completely white, except for the pinkish streaks that crossed below its neck.

The creature pierced its arm through a reed roof, then extracted it, grasping human figures. Cladius felt his insides scream like a man condemned to the rivers of Hades when he saw the white hand bathed in blood, holding pieces of cloth and flesh. The beast reached towards the ground, where the screaming multitude fled for their lives, evading falling walls and rubble. The beast grabbed three screaming men in its giant hand, as big as a carriage, and crushed them in one swift motion, like a sadistic child learning to kill pigeons for the first time.

Then, a loud creak rang out beside Cladius. The driver had fled; he alone remained paralyzed. Beside him, the wall cracked upside down when part of it gave way, collapsing beside him. The rest started breaking, releasing dust and small rocks until it dangled above his head, and sharp pain poured onto his skull.

He hit the ground, and the world around him faded to black.

image [https://i.ibb.co/vq0QMvw/giants.png]