It was a cold day.
The Congress room of Carthage was alive with anger. It was empty, for all but two. A Roman diplomat had entered the room, posture defiant, and demanded that Hannibal be held accountable for breaking the Treaty set forth at the end of The Punic War.
"Carthage was he who broke the Treaty, not Rome, yet you declare us the oath-breakers?" The Diplomat screamed.
"Rome is a plague, to come and take us all into its grasp. I will not allow it."
"How dare you accuse Rome of such crimes! Rome is a beacon of justice, law and civilisation." The Diplomat retorted.
Hannibal laughed.
It was not a jolly laugh, or even a maniacal one. It was a bitter laugh. A laugh that remembered The Punic War, and his father's tales of what Rome had inflicted upon Carthage. Yes, maybe his mind was warped by the eyes of a child, but he knew what Rome really was.
"You are as hypocritical as you are power hungry, Roman." Hannibal said.
"Enough! The sole purpose of this visit is for one thing. You must return the lands that Carthage has stolen, or the Might of Rome will be upon you!" The Diplomat demanded.
"So, my choices are die young, or die old, bitter at how I could've stopped Rome. When Carthage is burned, its walls destroyed, I am to remember this day? The day that I chose to give up?" Hannibal asked.
The Diplomat remained silent.
"I thought as much. I cannot allow Roman aggression to take away from Carthage's power. Here, in the sight of Ba'al-Hammon, I declare that Rome shall expand no more! I will stop you in your tracks, Roman. You and your 'Republic'." Hannibal proclaimed.
"Then War is upon you, Hannibal, son of Carthage. Rome will sow your fields with salt, burn this city to the ground! We will destroy Carthage so greatly, that in a thousand years, none shall know it ever existed."
"Then Ba'al-Hammon protect you, Roman. For Hannibal Barca is upon you."
The Diplomat exited the room, fuming with anger.
Hannibal turned, and smiled.
"It will be a good War. A Decisive one, at the least."