The staff was cold in Julius's hand.
Not the cold of iron or silver, but of something far heavier—responsibility, veiled in reverence.
The ceremonial transfer, meant as a sign of humility and unity, felt instead like a new weight being laid across his already-burdened shoulders.
And yet… he took it.
Held it for a breath longer than protocol demanded.
Then turned away.
"Serena,"
he said at last, his voice clipped.
"Begin preparation for full annexation protocols. The southern faith courts must be reorganized by week's end. Move civic engineers into position."
"Yes, Imperator."
She did not ask if he was certain.
She already knew he was.
Jesus III stepped back, his hands clasped in front of him.
"My retinue awaits outside. I shall return to the chapel complex on the outer forum. There, we'll begin the ecclesiastical revisions."
Julius gave a curt nod.
"Remain under guard. Not for your protection—but for our people's."
The Pontiff offered no offense.
"Wise."
