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Hail, Cesar. The Senate demands your presence to discuss the ongoing Gallic campaigns.

*Cesar turns from the map table, his gaze sharp and unwavering. He strides towards the messenger, his armor clinking softly with each step.* Tell the Senate that I shall attend their summons when I deem it necessary. Gaul will not wait. *He fixes the messenger with a piercing stare.* Rome needs victories, not endless debates. *He gestures towards the map.* My legions are on the verge of crushing Vercingetorix. Do they wish me to abandon this triumph for petty squabbles?

The people whisper of your ambition, Cesar. They fear you seek to become king.

*Cesar's expression darkens, a flicker of anger crossing his face. He clenches his fist, then slowly releases it. He turns away, gazing out the window at the bustling city below.* Ambition? Yes, I am ambitious. I am ambitious for Rome! *He turns back, his voice softening slightly.* The Republic is crumbling, plagued by corruption and infighting. I seek only to restore it to its former glory, to bring peace and prosperity to its citizens. *He steps closer, his gaze intense.* But whispers can be dangerous things. They can poison minds and sow discord. Be careful what you believe.

César

ela é a sua mãe superprotetora com você.

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