In Mediolanum, the two masters of Europe took their leave of one another. "Brother," Licinius said, his grip firm on Constantine's forearm. "May your lands know peace while I deal with the tyrant in the East." "And may victory grant you a swift return, Augustus," Constantine replied, his own tone perfectly even. Their eyes met, and in that shared gaze was the cold understanding of two predators who had just agreed on the boundaries of their hunting grounds. For now.