He sees himself, with a woman in his arms, asleep. He recognizes her. He was younger then, just about to join the legion. She probably doesn't even remember him.
But wait. He sees her again. With a boy. He isn't blonde like she is, he's dark haired... Like Sulla.
He sees the boy grow. He sees him fight, and work, and marry. He sees more children.
And he sees their children. He sees them twist about the world, age and die, breed and spread.
He sees Rome burn. He sees his descendants die.
He sees Rome rise again. He sees his descendants at its head.
He sees new gods rise over the old. He sees new wars, and new plagues, and new cities, as great as Rome ever was, spread across Europa and the east.
But one by one, he sees the points of light that were his great, great grandchildren, go out. Fewer now. Thinning. He feels panic. He had sworn that that would not happen. The blood of Sulla cannot thin. He swore it.
There is only one. He cups it in his hands. It cannot go out. But it is dimming.
Sulla looks up.
"Jupiter!" he shouts. "Zeus! Gods, new and old! Gods of Rome, Gods of men, please! Hear me!
"Have you any love for me, and for the feats I have done for you-have I entertained you at all, please, hear my plea! Do not let this spark go out! Do not let the blood of Sulla fade, not as I watch! I will give you anything, my peace, my strength, my soul-anything!
"Cannot the soul of one Sulla be worth the soul of another Sulla? Whoever this spark is, whatever it calls itself, please, let me serve as the fuel for its preservation! I beg of you, whichever of you calls himself a god of justice, let it be so!"
And so it was.