The Codex Vitae et Veritas pulsed with a low, living hum, faint runes shimmering as Julius confirmed his selections.
Each edict now embedded in the civic bloodstream of the empire like iron in bone.
Their effects would begin to ripple outward by morning—some subtle, others transformative.
With the Codex properly socketed, Julius exhaled.
The monumental had been made manifest.
He turned, exiting the sanctum beneath the Basilica, boots echoing along the polished blackstone tiles as he passed beneath the arches of deified gods and symbols of old.
By now, the city itself breathed with a strange calm, like a body that had finally stabilized after days of fever, Romanus's constant growth was in itself a problem as they constantly had to deal with an influx of war slaves, and newly joining citizens all who knew nothing of the newly developed Romanus culture, and as such many cultural clashes had been popping up, but no longer.
