The river was shallow. The sky was silent. And then, Caesar crossed.
Behind him, his legions moved like fate itself—disciplined, cold, unstoppable. Before him, the Roman Republic held its breath.
As his boots touched the far bank of the Rubicon, a line older than law was erased. What followed was swift and merciless: the Senate fled, Pompey ran, and Rome—the heart of the known world—was his for the taking.
He seized the treasury. He shattered the order. And in days, the Republic began to die.
The die was cast. The gods were silent. And civil war had begun.
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