I planted my feet in the imperial box, grabbed Caesar by the scruff of his collar, dragged him to his feet beside me. Turning, I presented him to the assembled Romans of the Colosseum. Facing the crowd now, I could see the bloody path I'd wrought to arrive at this place. Using nothing but the jawbone of Caesar's lion, and the strength of the Lord's right arm, I'd fought my way to the seat of power. Behind the carnage lay the marks made when I hit my knees and prayed for this deliverance He'd wrought.
I preached the story of my Deliverer to the stunned ears of Rome's rich and poor. Caesar imagined he was a god, but my God was Caesar of Caesars. I challenged the stunned crowd to tell me how I could possibly be standing here now, with the empire in my hands, if this Caesar were whom he pretended to be. And, jawbone ready behind Caesar's neck, I asked Rome to choose the impostor's fate - thumbs up? or the lion?
It was then, surrounded by 50,000 speechless Romans, I heard the Small Voice. "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it."
The spell of my fantasy was broken.
My knees still pressed into the sand of the Colosseum floor. The lion still roared through the iron grating. Caesar still ruled this place from his seat of splendor. I was still going to die.
And after that, the Light would shine. Still.