Forgive me, Caesar.
I am about to write a letter to those who decided thy fate. I am about to declare my love for them, and put on the semblance that I am at peace with thy death as long as it was for reason.
I am lying.
No reason will ever be enough to convince me. No goal will sway me, no dream, no hope, no fear. You were a kind, honorable man. I loved you like I loved my father.
Fear not, Julius. I will avenge thy name, mighty Caesar. Thy deeds shall not be forgotten, thy name shall not be erased, branded traitor, ambitious. The moment I heard of thy death I knew, in my breast, that I would not stop until I avenged you.
My vengeance may destroy me. I know this. It may destroy my family, my people, Rome. It may shake Rome to the very cobbles, it may shake the very gods off their pedestals. But I will not be swayed. My vengeance is all that I shall live for, and if need be I will give my life for thee, for what would better serve me death than to die in honor of thee?
I am about to commit the unforgivable. I am giving in, rather than charging those foul murderers and slaying them. I seek to destroy them more utterly than they can imagine. Death by the sword is no good for such conspirators, such traitors. They claim to have brought enfranchisement to Rome with thy death, I will bring them true enfranchisement, by all the gods I will stir up the very foundations of Rome in the name of thy revenge!
Caesar, forgive me for not dying with you. Forgive me for saving myself. In order to bring justice I must live, and survive, for now. Once I have utterly destroyed anything and everything those conspirators held dear to them, then I shall allow myself the release of death. But until then, I must lie in wait like that of the snake, waiting for the moment these noble men should slip.
Caius Cassius, Decius Brutus, Marcus Brutus, Caius Ligarius, Metellus Cimber, Trebonius, Cinna, Casca… thou all shall pay for thy crimes. When the time is right I will strike, and then thou shall learn what it means to fear. I will hunt thee down like the mangy curs you are. I will cut thee down one by one, and I will not stop until all are dead.
Julius… I can only hope that thou shall forgive me for what I will do. For what I must do. I know that thee lovedst Marcus Brutus, but he bears no love for you, only Rome. But I must have my retribution, I must have my reprisal. I must speak, strike, redress. I must take down these foul creatures who would presume to rule Rome, and I shall not stop until every last one of them has begged for the grave. The dead are walking the streets, Caesar, as Calphurnia dreamt. They merely do not know that they are dead yet.
My revenge will destroy me, for how can any man dedicate himself to something without it consuming him? I will be consumed by my vengeance, I will be devoured by it until I am merely a shell of a man. Do not mourn for me, Caesar. Rather, I shall mourn for thee, and I shall rage upon thy murderers and fire shall rain from the skies before I have brought my hatred down upon those who claimed to love Rome!
Thou lovedst Marcus Brutus, Caesar, this I know. And for his betrayal of that love, he shall be the first to die.