I Rule Rome with a God-Tier AI-Chapter 136: The Heretic Hunters

Alex clicked off the laptop screen. The temporary link to Lyra's full consciousness severed, and the Ghost Protocol slammed back into place like the door of a tomb. The chamber was plunged back into the dim, primeval gloom of flickering oil lamps. The oppressive silence returned, deeper and heavier than before. He was alone again, truly alone, with the firewalled, literal-minded echo of his only ally.

The initial, heart-stopping terror of the Gardener's revelation had receded, but what replaced it was a cold, frantic energy that set his nerves alight. He had a target. A priest, a Conductor, a quantum-entangled alien puppet-master hiding somewhere in the vast, dark wilderness of the European frontier. He had a name for his enemy, but it was the name of a ghost.

He began to pace, the sound of his leather boots on the stone floor a stark rhythm in the silence. He thought aloud, his words a low, urgent murmur meant for himself as much as for the crippled AI.

"How do I find it? How do I find a quantum priest hiding amongst a hundred scattered, nomadic tribes in a wilderness the size of Gaul? I can't send legions on a search-and-destroy mission; they'd be chasing shadows and getting slaughtered by an enemy that moves like mist. I can't use conventional spies; my speculatores are the best in the world, but what do I tell them to look for? A man who glows in the dark? A shaman who speaks in perfect Latin? They would not recognize the threat even if it was standing right in front of them."

He stopped and turned to the dark screen of the laptop. "Lyra. Give me options. Premise: a single, high-value enemy leader, the 'shaman,' is organizing and commanding disparate barbarian tribes through non-conventional means. His location is unknown. Goal: locate and neutralize this leader with minimal Roman casualties. Go."

He knew the answer would be inadequate, but he had to try. The response came in her now-familiar, frustratingly simplistic text-to-speech voice.

Analysis based on provided parameters. Standard counter-insurgency doctrine suggests deploying multiple, small, highly specialized reconnaissance units, or *speculatores*, to infiltrate the affected regions. Their primary objective would be intelligence gathering: identifying the enemy 'shaman's' location, habits, support structure, and command methods. This is a multi-year intelligence-gathering operation designed to build a comprehensive profile of the target before committing to direct action.

"Years?" Alex scoffed, the word a bark of bitter laughter. "I don't have years! This thing is moving now. It's testing its forces, expanding its influence. In years, it could be at the gates of Rome! I need a weapon that can fight this now."

He resumed his frantic pacing, his mind a whirlwind of impossible scenarios. He needed a hunter who could track a phantom. He needed soldiers who could comprehend a threat that transcended normal warfare. The Silenti used a fanatical, ideologically driven force to do their work. A chilling thought, a dangerous spark, ignited in the darkness of his mind.

What if he fought fire with fire?

"The Devota," he whispered, the name tasting of iron and ash. He stopped, his eyes wide with the terrible brilliance of the idea. "Titus Pullo. The Legio V Devota."

They were his creation. His monsters. Forged in plague, reborn through his science, bound to him by a faith so absolute it bordered on madness. They didn't see the world as soldiers did, in terms of terrain and tactics. They saw it as a battleground of faith and heresy, of divine will and demonic corruption. They wouldn't be looking for a man; they'd be looking for a demon. They were the only ones in his entire arsenal who could possibly understand the true nature of this threat, even if he could never, ever tell them the truth.

He strode back to the desk, his decision made. "Lyra. New scenario. What if I re-task the Devota cohort currently in Noricum? Change their mission from peacekeeping to actively hunting this new 'dark shaman' and his followers?"

Lyra's response was immediate, the AI's logic gates producing an instant and unequivocal warning.

Warning: This course of action is highly inadvisable. Analysis of the Legio V Devota's behavioral patterns, including their actions during the plague riots and subsequent reports from their frontier deployment, indicates extreme ideological fervor and a tendency towards excessive, indiscriminate force. They are a blunt instrument of extermination, not a scalpel for intelligence gathering.

The AI's words were a cold shower, but Alex's mind was already ablaze with the desperate logic of his plan.

Deploying them in this role, Lyra continued, her voice unwavering, carries a 92% probability of resulting in premature, indiscriminate violence against potential intelligence sources. They will likely slaughter indoctrinated subjects before they can be captured for interrogation. This approach will alert the primary target to your active countermeasures and will almost certainly destroy any chance of gathering actionable intelligence on the Conductor's location or methods. It is the tactical equivalent of burning down a library to find a single book.

"I don't need a scalpel right now, Lyra," Alex shot back, his voice strained. "I don't have time for surgery. I need a sledgehammer to crack the first rock. I need to know where they are, what their influence looks like on the ground. Pullo and his men are already on the frontier. They are hardened. They are motivated. And they see me as a living god. They will follow this order without question, with a zeal no other legion can match."

He waved a hand, dismissing the cold logic of his AI. His gut, his fear, his desperation—they were screaming at him that this was the only way. He couldn't afford to be patient. He had to strike back now, hard.

He sat down, pulled a fresh sheet of papyrus towards him, and picked up a stylus. His hands were steady. He began to compose a coded dispatch, not for a Roman general, but for the high priest of his own burgeoning cult. He couldn't mention aliens, quantum entanglement, or galactic gardeners. He had to frame the order in the only language Titus Pullo would understand, the language of divine writ.

To my loyal centurion, Titus Pullo, commander of the First Cohort of the Legio V Devota, greetings from your Emperor.

He paused, choosing his words with the care of a poisoner.

The information from Senator Rufus is grim, but it has illuminated a great truth. The massacre in Noricum was not the work of mere men. It was the work of a false prophet, a dark shaman who gathers his flock through deception and blood magic. He whispers promises of power into the ears of the weak and leads them into a damnation of silence and death. This is an affront to the Divine Will that protects this Empire. This is heresy of the highest order. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

He let the words sink in, imagining Pullo's scarred face, his burning eyes, as he read them.

Your commission with Senator Rufus is hereby terminated. Your new mission, your true mission, is now clear. You are to become my hunters. You will hunt this heretic and his followers to the dark corners of the earth. Find his apostles. Find his places of worship. Root out his corruption wherever it festers. He is the enemy of the true gods, the antithesis of the light I have shown you. Show him, and all who follow him, the true meaning of divine fire.

He signed it not with the formal seal of the Emperor, but with a simple, personal glyph he had used in his private communications with Pullo before—a stylized scarab beetle, the symbol of their legion's rebirth.

He rolled the papyrus, dripped hot wax onto it, and pressed the seal into place. He had just given a holy order for a black-ops mission. He had chosen to unleash his own fanatical cult to hunt the enemy's, knowing full well that they were the wrong tool for the job. It was a reckless, desperate gamble, a move born of fear and the terror of inaction. He knew Lyra was right. He knew he was throwing a lit torch into a dark forest, hoping it would illuminate the monster hiding there before it burned everything, including himself, to the ground.