What if You Had a Helicopter in Ancient Rome?

What if you had a helicopter in ancient Rome? Day 1, you land your helle in the middle of the Roman Forum. Dust clouds choke the Senate, citizen scream Vulcan's chariot, and flee and terror. You step out, they prostrate themselves, convinced a god has descended. Day 2, Emperor Trajan offers you a golden palace and his finest wine. You hover 50 feet up to demonstrate divine flight. The Praetorian Guard falls on their swords and shear off the rotor thunder. Day 3, you take Trajan for a flight over the city. He vomits from the height but declares you a son of Jupiter. He orders a 50 foot marble statue of a propeller to be built in the center of the city. One week, low fuel warning. You park the iron bird on a massive pedestal. Thousands bring offerings of grain and goat blood to feed the engine. You are officially the most powerful person in the empire. One month, the fuel is dry. The bird is dead. The Senate realizes you're just a man who can't make the dragon roar anymore. They brand you a fraud and prepare the crosses. Just as they grab you, a Roman engineer accidentally sparks a torch near the auxiliary fuel tank. The resulting explosion levels the Palatine Hill. The survivors don't kill you. They're convinced you've ascended to the heavens in a flash of holy fire. You spend the rest of your life in hiding, watching them worship your charred flight helmet as a holy relic.