32 [ Horus ] No place like Rome

  My mind raced as I stood there, being called out by a Wakadan princess for invading an allied nation of theirs and taking it over. Possibly as a pretext for her to take it over herself.

  Why not? Her brother had the Wakandan throne, so why not claim another one for her own? Especially since she seemed to have gained some variety of supernatural powers between Doom's disappearance and my birth.

  Fortunately, as I desperately tried to organize my defense, a voice called out in a voice that I did not so much hear as felt.

  “Roma Enturna.”

  All around me the building I stood in shimmered and changed, from a building of smooth grand sloping lines to something more ridged, ornate, fluted… Roman.

  Shuri made a “Tsk” sound as she watched the grand hall change around us and the Dora Malaji raced about like disturbed cats before circling about their princess with their spears at the ready.

  Mostly facing outward, but with the two closest ones equally on guard against me, as well as placing me effectively out of their circle.

  Fair enough. Protecting me wasn’t their job. “Princess Shuri?” I gestured at the changed architecture all around me.

  “What is this”

  She frowned and sighed as she looked off to one side before slowly turning around in a circle, “We were having a private conversation Roman. You should have just stayed dead.”

  The sound of clanking metal, consistent with someone's gait, began to echo from an inner hall, turning I could see a man wearing what I could only describe as a retro futuristic suit of full body armor styled after that of a Roman centurion.

  “Silence Scortum!” He shook his fist. “This is a time for you to listen, not speak.”

  Alright, that’s pretty offensive. “Oooookay?” I once again looked back at the Wakandan Princess, with my hands thrown up to make it clear I needed some sort of explanation.

  She rolled her eyes at the Centurian, as the Maliji around us split, with half of them facing the Roman, and the rest turning to put themselves between their princess, and the army of men in archaic Roman legionnaire uniforms, complete with shields and javelins heading toward us from the outside at a steady jog.

  Shuri let her head fall back as if looking at the heavens. “His name is Gaius Scollio or something like that-”

  The man in the armor raised his fist and shouted. “Gaius Tiberius Augustus Agrippa you black skinned hag!”

  Dude… really?

  Shuri pursed her lips at him in a look of disgust. “He can command reality with the armor he found in an alien spacecraft, I think it’s part of the ship's FTL drive. The armor also kept his mind intact even after his body died and rotted away. My brother must have handed the suit over to the Archivists of Z’gambo after I asked him if I could experiment with it. I guess he didn’t trust me not to do so even after he forbid it.”

  I glanced over at her, and after a moment asked. “Should he have been concerned?”

  She crossed her arms and pouted. “Yes… but he should have also trusted me. I could have confirmed a few theories much earlier.”

  Shrugging I turned to the man in the armor, or at least the man who it now seemed was the armor, and tried to let loose with a burst of lightning to short out the suit.

  Standing there there with my arm outstretched, I heard the Wakandan princess chuckle. “And he can suppress superpowers.”

  Well… crap.

  Rushing past me, she leaped and planted her foot into his face, only to let out a pained grunt as the Centurian stood motionless against the full force of her kick and she sprung away before his attempt to backhand her could connect.

  I stared at her as sprung back out of his reach, and landed on her feet while trying to look dignified about her failed attack. She shrugged. “The Invisible Woman pulled his helmet off and he and everything he had commanded to be vanished. Testing to see if it worked again seemed the simplest solution.”

  The Roman laughed. “I know now that my meer mortal flesh was weak, but just as Rome is eternal, so now am I. This is your only option, bow down before me, or fall.”

  As his troops raced in and began to form a circle around us, I turned to face the Wakandan princess.

  “So, if I am the one to defend this place against a challenger, Will Wakanda acknowledge me as its rightful master? Or should I stand aside while you deal with all of this, on your own?”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  She threw her head back. “I have not denied your claim, I simply wanted to take your measure.” Gesturing at the Roman, she gave me a nod. “Feel free to show me who you are.”

  Looking a the armored ghost, who had begun to tap his foot, I considered what I knew of him.

  He was controlling me somehow, with something as abstract as ‘No powers’ while still allowing us to move, breathe, and even attack him physically.

  Which meant that there was something happening here that was as much in my mind as his, so it had to be mentally accessible to me, and since I am within its control system, I had access to and should be able to interact with it.

  Reaching out with my newfound powers, I tried my best to sense whatever form of energy was suppressing anything more than human about me.

  And after a moment, I found it. Psionic energy.

  Not something I could transform into, or shoot out of my fingertips, but something a skilled mind could tap into.

  Walking up to the dead man, as if approaching him to talk, I took the last few steps towards him in a rush. The Centurian took a step back by reflex as I crossed the line past conversational distance into his personal space, but before he could get out of my reach, I closed my hand around the face plate of his metal helm.

  The helmet was the key. The control system. Contact with it was enough to access it. After that, it was merely a matter of a battle of wills.

  I could see the man’s entire life. His life as a plebian until he came of age to join the legions. His effective exile to the far borders of the empire after offending an officer. He and his men being ordered out to investigate a falling star. His years at the top of a plateau that was only reachable by an ancient tower. The people he used the armor to kidnap to make up his empire.

  And all the years afterwards before he dropped his guard around a woman who had arrived with a group of strangers. Who he had disregarded as a danger just because she was a pretty girl whose only power, as far as he had known, was to turn invisible.

  I saw his realization that he was dead and so tired. Then…

  Someone killed the guy who had murdered an entire city to make sure he was the only one who could be affected by the influence of a powerful Celestial artifact disguised as a frog and prevented anyone else from knowing it was here.

  It was nice to know the man had done what he had done for a reason, but he had still been a psychopath who needed to die for what he had done.

  And to get him out of my way.

  So. Wakandans, and a dead Roman with reality control powers. I had to wonder what other consequences I was going to have to deal with for my actions.

  In any case, it was his mind against mine. A man whose fear of death had been keeping his mind intact without a body, versus me, the guy who had already died once, and knew that death was not the end.

  Lifting the armor up by its face, I pulled it close and whispered. “Memento Mori. Remember to die.”

  “Dick.”

  Normally I don’t indulge in name calling, but he shouldn’t have said those things to Shuri. That was uncalled for.

  The armor fell apart. So did the commands that Gaius had given to all the legionnaires to form around the remains of the people of Z’gambo and rise in his service as they returned to dust and bones.

  Letting the helm fall from my hands, I turned to Shuri. “I am far more than my powers. The King of Z’gambo for one.”

  The Wakanda princess stared at me for a moment, then smiled. “All hail the king, if I can take that armor with me.”

  I had sorta wanted it for myself, but a king must be generous. Especially to highly dangerous and seriously cute princesses. Besides it was the sort of thing that would nothing but trouble, so let it trouble Wakanda. It might help keep them out of my way.

  “Of course.”

  The Dora Malaji rammed their spears into the floor as what I hoped was their salute in recognition of my claim and began carrying off the armor in three separate orverly elaborate looking storage cases. I turned one last time to the Wakandan Princess. “I hope to see you again sometime, in a more social way. Perhaps dinner after I have found some kitchens here. And some food.”

  She gave me a raised brow in a considering look before looking both amused and a little shy. Her four personal guards shot each other guarded smiles. “I would like that. King Horus.”

  As the three Wakandan Quin jets flew off, I began to try to figure out ways of ensuring they would not be able to access my magical hidden kingdom so easily again and listened to the encrypted reports from my crystal minions as they tapped themselves to produce radio waves.

  Flavius Scollio’s command to reshape the M’Gamboian dead has neatly sorted their bones out by person which would make it much easier to give them a more respectful burial than a mixed pile of bones in a mass grave.

  “Well done Falvious.”

  In the back of my head, the psychic imprint of the dead man sighted, and once again begged me to let him move on to whatever afterlife awaited him, or oblivion. Either way, the man just longed to rest.

  “Not until I find the rest of the crashed ship Flav.”

  Although it would involve me crossing the border of Wakanda to reach the Black Tower of M’Kumbe, and the hidden vault at its base, at least it wasn’t that far over the border. And as far as I knew, the only one paying attention to me in Wakanda had a new toy to keep her distracted.

  Worse come to worse, I can just claim I was looking for a gift for her when I had her over for dinner.