'My spot in Elysium is assured…'
Fate had intervened—the gods favored Piso, so it seemed.
He possessed a blessed soul, that was for sure.
"The gods carried out the assassination, thwarting my plans, as if they deemed my hands too precious to be stained with his blood."
The thorn in his side, felled by fever.
"An unknown illness… pft—hahaha! I can't believe it."
A mocking glint of disbelief sharpened his eyes.
"This is so ridiculous."
It was a comedic death for a serious man like Germanicus, who was all about decorum and duty.
How exquisitely convenient.
'That's why I told you not to be so arrogant,' he scoffed, then stilled.
A million thoughts raced through his mind like chariots kicking up dust in the wind.
Possibilities.
Implications.
Danger.
On and on.
But everything circled back to Germanicus' death—he just couldn't help it.
"Heh—"
He allowed himself a bitter chuckle, leaning his shoulder against the cold door frame, struggling to contain his excitement.
But his thoughts spun again.
Weaving.
Wandering.
Imagining.
It was all futile.
"Pft—!"
His shoulders shook with raw joy.
'What a great way to die, a fitting end.'
Truly.
Piso felt no empathy for the dead general—none whatsoever.
"No, that is his karma, plain and simple."
It wasn't even on the battlefield.
"Utterly humiliating."
He wiped imaginary tears from the corner of his eye.
"Ah, I know he had been poisoned. I'm sure of it. But for now—ha!—it's just so funny, no matter how much I think about it. The invincible Germanicus…" he breathed.
Then his voice trailed into a whisper.
"... deader than dead."
His jaw tightened—his fingers clenched the lucerna.
"I should have been the one who killed him… it was mine to claim…"
But now… it wasn't.
And that longing burned deep inside him—resentment, jealousy, and a bitter emptiness he couldn't shake.
"It should have been me…"
The seeds of their rivalry had been sown long before Piso became the governor of Syria.
Their animosity had festered over the years, fueled by old grievances and ambition.
The memory was still so vivid, as if it had only occurred yesterday.
Piso's gaze clouded as the flame of the lucerna in his hand danced in the wind like the flickering recollection of the past before his eyes.
TSSSS!
CRACKLE!
They had both become generals then, though Piso was older.
And Germanicus?
He had long been regarded as the golden child of the Imperial family.
Born into two prominent patrician families, he stood apart among Rome's elite.
"A true golden spoon, through and through," he mumbled.
His lineage was a sharp contrast to Piso's own—the Calpurnii Pisones, of humble plebeian origins with Etruscan roots.
They clawed their way to prominence with grit and determination, producing notable figures including consuls and governors who made history—
And ultimately… earning a patrician status.
'But still not enough to gain a seat in the ten great gentes,' he thought dryly.
The difference between them was stark, like night and day, making Germanicus seem… incomparable.
With him.
With no one else.
Still, at that time, Piso didn't feel any resentment—yet—toward the person involved.
Germanicus was indifferent to Rome's social structure, so why would Piso?
The former always showed without fail that he was competent and that he didn't rely on his family's influence.
Back then, Piso's naive self held Germanicus in high esteem, drawn to the golden boy's exceptional character and impressed by his self-reliant qualities…
"I don't know what I was thinking then," he clicked his tongue at the memory.
And then came Agrippina, the most enchanting woman Piso had ever laid eyes on.
She became the object of his desire.
Yes, he was older, but still unmarried and hard-working.
He thought it was enough.
So he decided to gamble—he went and asked Agrippina's hand in marriage to her father.
Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa.
'But he straight out rejected me.'
Then he found out that she was set to marry Germanicus.
"It broke my heart," he ground his teeth, pressing a hand to his chest.
As if he could still feel the pain.
'Well…'
He married Munatia Plancina.
'One of Germanicus' rumored ex-lovers.'
He thought that blasted Germanicus would at least get… mad—jealous or anything!
Any reaction!
Even just a frown would do!
'But there was none! As if Agrippina, that wench, was the only one in his eyes!'
SHWAAAA
"Hah… hah…"
He hunched over, breathing hard.
"Vae Germanicus!"
His white hair flowed over his face, a few beads of sweat dotted his temple.
"Vae! Even in death you still—!"
Rage consumed him.
"Hah…"
He closed his eyes, combed his hair back with his hands and leaned his shoulder back against the entrance frame.
SHWAAAAAAA!
Suddenly, the patter of raindrops on the roof and pavement intensified.
It grew louder and louder and more insistent.
The rain splattered against Piso's face, stinging his skin with icy droplets that soaked through his toga.
It chilled him to the bone.
He paid it no mind.
He still reminisced about the past.
SHWAAAAAAAAAA!
Piso recalled how he channeled his emotions into his work.
He used the demands of serving Rome as a distraction from the pain of his unrequited love and the simmering resentment that he felt towards Germanicus.
"I know he knew, yet still had the gall to try and cheer me on when I confided in him once."
Eventually, Piso was promoted and appointed governor of Eastern Provinces in Asia.
But then—
Germanicus started antagonizing him.
'He said it was too early for me to rise in rank.'
Piso opened his eyes and sneered.
'He even cited concerns about my suitability for the role.'
His gaze narrowed, squinting in the dark.
"Hah!"
He couldn't believe his ears when he heard it at a banquet they both attended.
He thought Germanicus would apologize, but instead—
"Too early? He said it's too early for me… me? Is he blind? Didn't he see I'm already old?" he spat.
Germanicus dismissed Piso's hard work and ambition as petty and misguided.
"Making me feel like shit!"
Piso had been as livid then as he was now.
But at that time, he said nothing.
He still quietly took on the job, clenching his teeth and letting his eyes speak venom.
While the golden boy scorned him for still accepting the vast Eastern Provinces—despite his criticism—and becoming its governor…
Piso only watched as Germanicus' shaking head only fed his now—
Raving ambition.
He decided to work harder than ever, determined to prove Germanicus wrong.
But Piso soon realized—that governing the Eastern Provinces was a thankless task—a never-ending headache of petty squabbles and border disputes!
It left him weary.
He had thought such a large territory was a just reward for all of his backbreaking work, that being its governor was a great honor…
But now he knew better!
'I was its provincial governor for years!'
In the corner of his mind, although he didn't want to admit it, but he felt it—
A chilling suspicion.
Germanicus must have known and predicted this outcome, which was why he had opposed Piso in every turn.
"But then again, he should have given it to me straight!"
He stomped his feet in frustration.
"Instead he dilly-dallied!" he seethed, his glare fixed on the empty space before him as if he was seeing Germanicus standing there.
For a moment, silence engulfed him.
Only the sounds of his heavy breathing…
The crackling of the flame…
And the falling rain.
TSSSSS!
SHWAAAA!
"How would I know if no one told me?" he whispered.
**