Decimus stood idly nearby the window, arms folded behind his back. The sun was high in the sky, its light reflecting off the glass of the mighty buildings of Washington. There would be no more time to waste. An evacuation of the city had been ordered, and all of the precious artifacts belonging to the city had been taken. Most people had left, though a good number of them had opted to remain in their city. For fear of looters, for fear of losing their belongings, their homes. Fear. Fear of disorder. Fear of chaos, of uncertainty. Decimus had seen this world's true face. It was afraid of him, though soon it would thank him. Direct action was needed. Direct control.
As he walked into the main hall, he pondered the events leading to up to the present. The Romans had come through the portal to their world to this one. The natives had arrogantly refused their aid despite the anarchy their world experienced. Decimus had revealed the Embassy, and met with the United Nations. And he was refused again. But justice does not surrender so easily. He would bring this world to its knees, so that it could stand up taller than before. Above the filth. Above the violence.
He closed his eyes for a second, and his armor marched obediently behind him, controlled by the metal wreath on his head. Extending his arm, the suit itself opened from the front and enveloped him. The slits of his eyes on the faceplate glowed with energy, with power. The power that would bring discipline to a world. Behind him, his army rose. Armored from head to toe in similarly advanced technological suits, his Legion was an imposing sight. They acted as one powerful unit. The bottom of the Embassy opened, and they flew in squads down to the city. Landing upon every rooftop, on every street, within every vantage point, the Legionnaires prepared for battle. A vast majority of them stayed within the Constitution Gardens surrounding the Washington Monument, eyes turned to the sky. The siege of DC had ended as quickly as it began.
This world had a rather impressive number of superhumans. Resistance was to be expected-it was only natural. They would come, and they would fall. But ideally without permanent harm. Decimus had told his Legion to avoid lethal force in their methods. Should any of their own be killed, however, they were to retaliate with the maximum power of their fully armed and operational battle suits.
And so it begins, thought Decimus. As a great ancestor of his once said, the die is cast.
Let them come.