March 20, 2011
The crowd roared as Celtic dissident’s last bullet passed through the prisoners head. The man, who lay on his chest far above the audience, wondered what the prisoner had done to deserve such an unjust fate. Had he stolen, and had the indecency to be caught? And what where the conditions of the offence? Maybe the b****** was trying to feed his family. Who has the right to decide another man’s fate? Who can claim they know what is best for others? The man’s thoughts where now being screamed in his head! But the prisoner’s life was not the one the man was concerned with this day.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you in celebration of the one thousand four hundred and forth anniversary of the Battle of Allia, when the Roman Empire defeated the treacherous barbarian hoards, the one, the only, Emperor Servius Fidenas!” The projection of the announcer’s voice rang through the crowd as though they were ants in a metal bowl. Only hours ago the giant levitating stands shined with a silver polish that was visible from miles away, now however they were covered in the grime of spilled food, cheap wine, and the occasional dead audience member who was unfortunate enough to have been hit by a stray bullet or laser. As the chrome pillar on which emperor stood began to rise through the floor; the crowd, as always, followed the lead of the pillar immediately standing which caused more food and wine to be added to the floor’s collection.
The thin black cross came alive at the first glimpse of the emperor, more alive than it had ever been yet still calm, quiet, and experienced. The cross’s attention followed as the emerald studded crown passed and the golden armor emerged. The corps’ of those gladiators and prisoners who had fallen in the last round were consumed by the hole where the now nearly fully retracted floor used to be. The cross lost focus on the emperor as the body of the final prisoner began to fall into the hole with the rest of the dead.
The crowd’s excitement grew as more and more of their hero became visible until finally he was completely exposed, but unlike in previous events the distance between the emperor and the ground was still growing sending the emperor farther and farther above the audience. The crowd, who had not been expecting such a spectacular entrance, cheered at the newest addition to the coliseum. They worshiped this man who had done nothing to deserve their loyalty aside from claiming it was so. The man began to worry; it had not taken into the account this new variable. What if it did not remain hidden from the emperor’s robotic guards when they rose above him? The decision was made. It would have to make a move while the emperor was still in motion. One last controlled up-down motion and the thin black cross became calm again. Then, in its last moments of composure “BANG!”

The man, who was invincible in the minds of most only seconds ago, lay dead before thousands. The mater mind behind the cross prepared to make his escape but in the same instant that the emperor was proven to be man and nothing more, the robots disintegrated into dust, the pillar came crashing down. The assassin knew that he had nothing to run from now, for the world had been set free from the prison of delusion and he would be held a hero. What would the world do now with its new found freedom? Would it accept responsibly for its actions? Or would morals be lost without the threat of punishment?

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