The next place Adam went was Rome.
He did not arrive alone.
Remus traveled beside him, with Zakiti close enough that she could hear every word they exchanged.
Adam had not entirely recovered from Greece, although physically there was nothing to recover from.
The iron had not damaged his body in any lasting sense, and the pain he had experienced had never truly belonged to him.
What remained was the memory of feeling humanity suffer because of something done specifically to him, followed by the horrifying realization that he had finally chosen to direct that suffering toward an entire population.
Adam was tired.
He was tired of Greece, tired of its demands, tired of its pride, and tired of the consequences that seemed to follow every attempt he made to influence civilization.
So when Remus suggested they go to Rome, Adam agreed without much enthusiasm.
Then they arrived.
Rome was impressive.
Adam could recognize that immediately.
The city was organized, wealthy, and powerful, and the society around it possessed a confidence that came from believing its own strength was permanent.
But it was not the technology or the military that caught Adam’s attention.
It was the excess.
The wealthy surrounded themselves with enormous quantities of food, wine, clothing, servants, entertainment, and possessions.
Feasts seemed to exist simply to prove that there was enough food for another feast.
People ate because they could, displayed what they owned because they could, and consumed luxuries that had been carried from places many of them would never see.
Adam watched a nobleman order more food after already having eaten enough to feed several families.
Another table was surrounded by people laughing as servants brought out another course.
A man complained that a particular fruit had not been sweet enough, then casually pushed the entire plate away.
Adam
“This… prosperity should not be so hoarded by the leaders”
Remus looked at him.
“That’s a little dramatic.”
“No.”
He gestured toward the enormous banquet.
“They have more food than they can eat, more wealth than they can spend, and more people to serve them than they know what to do with.”
Remus shrugged.
“People like comfort.”
“I understand comfort.”
Adam’s expression hardened.
“This is different.”
He had seen hunger.
He had seen famine.
He had seen families lose children because there was not enough food.
To Adam, watching people deliberately consume far beyond what they needed while others suffered was not simply indulgence.
It was grotesque.
And yet he did not immediately act.
That was the important difference.
The old Adam might have decided that Rome needed fixing.
This Adam watched.
He observed.
He tried to understand.
And as he watched, another realization began to form.
Perhaps Rome did not need to be destroyed.
Perhaps Rome could be used.
Remus’s brother ruled it.
Romulus.
Adam had already heard enough about him to understand that he was no ordinary ruler.
He possessed centuries of experience, extraordinary influence, and access to an unusual population of mutants and other enhanced beings.
Rome was not merely a human kingdom.
It was a kingdom with weapons Greece could not easily match.
Adam looked at Remus.
“Your brother.”
She knew immediately what he meant.
“You want to see him.”
“I want to ask him for a favor.”
Remus smiled.
“That’s a dangerous phrase coming from you.”
Adam ignored the comment.
“How much does he hate Greece?”
Remus laughed.
“That depends on the day.”
“Can he be convinced?”
Adam looked back toward the banquet.
“I don’t want to spend centuries dealing with them.”
Remus studied his face.
“You want Romulus to attack Greece.”
Adam nodded.
“Yes.”
Zakiti immediately looked at him.
“Adam.”
He turned.
“I’m not asking him to do it because I’m angry.”
She raised an eyebrow.
Adam sighed.
“I’m trying not to be angry.”
That answer was honest enough that she let him continue.
Adam explained his reasoning.
Rome already possessed power.
Romulus had access to people whose abilities could change the balance of a war, including mutants whose capabilities were beyond anything ordinary Greek soldiers could counter.
Rome also had the population, organization, and resources necessary to sustain a prolonged campaign.
Greece had pride.
Rome had power.
Adam thought the outcome was obvious.
More importantly, he believed he could help Romulus without putting himself at the center of the conflict.
He could provide knowledge.
He could provide strategy.
He could explain Greek defenses.
He could identify weaknesses.
He could even help Rome adapt its own forces.
And if doing so meant Greece eventually ceased to exist as a major power, Adam found that he could live with it.
“For a few years,” he said quietly, “I can endure this.”
Remus looked at him.
“You mean the war?”
“Yes.”
“You hate war.”
“I do.”
She waited.
Adam looked toward the city.
“But I hate what Greece did more.”
That was when Remus understood how far he had changed.
Adam was no longer approaching the problem as a healer.
He was approaching it as a strategist.
He did not intend to walk into Greece and punish them himself.
He did not want to become trapped in another cycle where his own power created another catastrophe.
Instead, he would help someone else fight the war.
Remus smiled.
Much better.
She knew Romulus well enough to know exactly how to approach him.
“Come on,” she said.
Adam followed.
They eventually stood before Romulus.
The meeting was not particularly dramatic.
Romulus looked at Adam for several seconds, then at his sister.
“So this is him.”
Adam frowned.
“People keep saying that.”
Remus laughed.
“Because you keep becoming famous.”
Adam looked at Romulus.
“Your sister has told you about me.”
“Enough.”
Romulus leaned back.
“You want something.”
Adam nodded.
“I want you to destroy Greece.”
The room became quiet.
Remus gave him a sideways glance.
Adam shrugged.
“I’m tired.”
Romulus laughed.
Then the conversation became serious.
Adam did not ask Romulus to fight because he wanted revenge alone.
He explained the Greek obsession with his knowledge, the assassinations they had carried out against the Hittites, the war that followed, and finally the prison they had constructed around him.
He told Romulus what had happened after his imprisonment and how many people had died.
Romulus listened.
When Adam finished, he asked one question.
“What do you want from me?”
Adam answered immediately.
“Nothing for myself.”
That surprised Romulus.
“I want Greece gone as a threat.”
Romulus studied him.
“And you will help?”
“I will.”
“Why?”
Adam glanced at Remus.
Then back at Romulus.
“Because I’m tired of watching the same mistake happen over and over.”
Romulus smiled.
“You’re interesting.”
Adam sighed.
“Please don’t start.”
The alliance began there.
Rome would provide the armies.
Romulus would provide the leadership.
The mutants within his kingdom would provide abilities Greece had no meaningful way of countering.
And Adam would provide what he had spent centuries accumulating.
Knowledge.
For the first time since Greece had begun demanding everything he knew, Adam was willing to use that knowledge for something far more deliberate.
He would not fight every battle.
He would not command every soldier.
He would make sure Rome knew what it needed to know.
And as they prepared for what would eventually become a devastating conflict, Adam found himself thinking about Rome’s feasts again.
The endless food.
The extravagant tables.
The obsession with consumption.
The utter inability to recognize when enough was enough.
Perhaps that was the lesson Rome had been brought into his life to teach him.
Greece had shown him pride.
Rome was showing him gluttony.
And Adam was beginning to realize that the Seven Sins did not always announce themselves as obvious evil.
Sometimes they looked like success.
Sometimes they looked like power.
Sometimes they looked like a civilization that had so much that it had forgotten what “enough” meant.
Adam walked beside Remus as they left Romulus’s palace.
She glanced at him.
“Are you sure about this?”
Adam looked toward the horizon.
“No.”
Remus smiled.
“Good.”
Adam looked at her.
“Why is that good?”
“Because you usually become much more dangerous when you’re certain you’re right.”
Adam thought about it.
Then he laughed.
“Fair.”
For once, he was not pretending to know exactly what would happen.
He knew what he wanted.
And for the first time since Greece, he was willing to let someone else carry the sword.