Cesar’s Last Words

March 15, 44 BCE

The Senate House, Rome, Roman Republic

The morning sun cast long shadows across the marble floors of the Senate House, its rays skimming over the stone like a lover’s caress. Inside, the tension was palpable. The heavy silence of the chamber felt like the calm before a storm—like the last breath of peace before the onslaught of thunder. Senators sat, their faces stiff with expectation, but there was no discussion. No one spoke. They waited.

Caesar strode in. The sound of his sandals clicking against the marble reverberated through the hall like the first rumble of thunder, unmistakable and commanding. His purple toga glowed in the early light, the fabric rich with the weight of power that seemed to hang over him like a crown. Yet, despite the grandeur of his presence, his face was unnervingly calm.

His entrance did not go unnoticed. Eyes flicked nervously toward the man they had conspired against. The senators shifted in their seats, hands clenched under their togas, their fingers brushing the cold steel of hidden blades. But Caesar—he was not rattled. He seemed almost… at peace.

He stopped just inside the Senate, surveying the room with a cool, calculating gaze. His eyes swept over the faces of his enemies, his allies, and those who pretended to be neither. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips as if he had just found the punchline to a joke no one else could hear. The senators stared back, their faces masks of confusion and fear.

“My friends,” Caesar began, his voice smooth, measured, and carrying across the chamber with the ease of someone used to holding attention. “My fellow Romans,” he continued, his tone warmer now, as though he were speaking to comrades rather than enemies. “Today, I stand before you not only as your leader, but as one of you—your companion. I thank you all for your loyalty, your service, your faith in me. Together, we have built Rome into something magnificent. A city the world will remember long after our time here is done.”

The senators exchanged glances, their uncertainty growing. This was not the speech they had prepared for. They had expected Caesar to come with fury—anger at the betrayal, perhaps even threats—but his words felt almost… affectionate. It disarmed them. Some even shifted uncomfortably in their seats, unsure how to respond.

Caesar let the silence stretch for a moment, his gaze lingering on each man in turn. Then, as if to soften the blow of his next words, he smiled again, almost kindly.

“I have always called you comrades,” he said, his voice turning even softer, more intimate, “but today, I call you my friends. It is through your faith in me, through every battle, every victory, that we have shaped Rome into the empire it is today. And for that, I am grateful.”

The senators stiffened. This wasn’t the man they had feared. This was no tyrant, no enraged ruler demanding submission. This was a man who seemed almost… at peace with the world, with his enemies. And that unnerved them.

Then, with a slight shift in his posture, the air around Caesar seemed to thicken. His smile faded, and his gaze hardened, like a wolf that had seen the prey too long. His voice, though still calm, now carried an unmistakable edge.

“But,” he said, the single word slicing through the tension like a blade, “I am not blind. I know what you have planned. I know the whispers that have spread through these halls, the secrets you think are safe. The knives you’ve drawn in the shadows. The betrayal that festers in the dark.”

The room froze.

Brutus, standing at the front, felt his blood run cold. His hand trembled on the dagger beneath his toga. His breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t dare move.

Caesar’s eyes swept across the room once more, slowly, deliberately, landing on each conspirator. He did not speak their names. He did not need to. His gaze alone was enough. He knew. He had always known.

There was no shout of fury, no demand for answers. Instead, Caesar let the silence stretch, letting the weight of his knowledge fill the room. He took a deep breath, his next words soft, almost casual.

“And so, my friends,” he continued, his voice returning to its previous warmth, “I must adjourn this Senate. There will be no deliberations today. The business of Rome must wait.”

Confusion rippled through the chamber. This was the moment they had waited for. The moment to strike. But now… now, it seemed almost as if the time had already passed.

Caesar turned to leave, his steps slow, deliberate, as though he were walking through the garden rather than the Senate House. But as he reached the door, he paused. Without turning, he spoke one last time, his voice quiet but firm.

“The price of treason is high, my friends,” he said, his words hanging in the air like a warning, “and I will not allow it to go unpunished.”

The doors burst open, and in swept the soldiers. The room exploded into chaos. The gleam of their armor, the flash of swords—everything happened at once. The senators rose, panic spreading like wildfire through the ranks. But it was too late. Caesar’s soldiers moved swiftly, with practiced precision, surrounding the senators before they could make a move.

The first men to fall were those who had plotted against Caesar, their bodies crumpling to the floor before anyone could even react. The soldiers did not hesitate. They moved through the room, cutting down the conspirators one by one, without mercy, without pause.

Brutus’s eyes widened in disbelief as he watched Caesar’s retreating form. He reached for his dagger, but a soldier was already there, silencing him with swift efficiency. One by one, the men who had once controlled the fate of Rome fell to the floor, their plans undone by the very man they had tried to betray.

The blood of the Senate pooled on the marble, staining the floor with the price of ambition. Caesar walked out of the room, his expression unreadable, as the screams of the dying echoed in his ears. His reign was secure.

In that moment, the Republic was no more—not by the hands of assassins, but by the will of a man who knew how to make his enemies destroy themselves.