It Takes an Emperor and Loyalty To!

by: E.M. Burlingame

In my time, we didn’t fear Estrogen's nature, the knife in the back from Praetorians and their whimpering pets, so called leaders. We smelled the stink of their governments, of their Financialist schemes and regimes, all that rot always seeking to chain us with promises and threats. It took us more than a century to prepare, to do what we must, to draw them out, to draw them together and to kill the slavers amongst our own. We didn’t kneel—we hunted them, tracked their perfumed and fancy dressed asses through the streets, the back alleys of the halls of power, on the battlefield, for sport. It wasn’t about justice; it was the rush, the blood pumping as we tore their illusionary power to shreds, with the only real currency there is, the unfettered violence of man. When we caught them, we laughed in their faces, as the knife slide across their throats, showed them who really runs the show, their eyes slowly dimming as their blood flowed out.

- Constantine, after the Battle of Milvian Bridge, 312 AD (maybe, could be, probably)