"Who was that?" I muttered aloud, having already returned to Greece.
"What are you talking about?" Kratos asked.
"You didn't see him? And you didn't hear the voice?" I pressed.
"No," Kratos answered curtly.
Why would the dark gods know about me? They're fighting Olympus, but how could they possibly know of my existence?
"We won't be able to fight them on their land. We'll have to wait for them here," I said, realizing this threat wouldn't be so easily dealt with.
"Then we'll prepare. I'm returning to Sparta," Kratos declared.
"Ares will try to bind you to his will once again," I warned him.
"Let him try," he growled, Spartan fury flashing in his eyes.
I opened a path for him, and he stepped through the portal, vanishing. And I was left alone, standing in the silence, trying to understand who that was… and what I would soon have to face.
Doubt breeds weakness. Purify your heart, strengthen your mind with will, I reminded myself. Before me might stand an enemy far older and more cunning than I'd ever faced but with each passing day, I too was growing stronger. Whatever plan he might weave, he would not see it fulfilled.
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Greece and Persia were preparing for war. Armies gathered at the borders, and the distant glow of enemy campfires could be seen. The Persian fleet advanced from the south, hoping to land troops on the shores. The Greek fleet was much smaller, but its only hope lay in stopping the enemy and denying them a foothold on the coast of Hellas.
The main body of Persian land forces was to be lured into a narrow pass, where their overwhelming numbers would lose their power. Nearly ten thousand warriors were dispatched to this single point. Thermopylae yes, the enemy would be free to pillage parts of Greek lands, but that price was small compared to the chance to halt the entire army in one place.
The rest of the Greek forces spread out across various defensive lines. In this way, they managed to gather under the banner of Athens almost fifty thousand warriors from all the city-states a number that had seemed impossible only recently. Athena herself took part in every negotiation and dispute, preventing inner strife and quelling disagreements before they could ignite.
Persia, in turn, was preparing to bring a force of half a million to the Greek borders. And worse still, many among them were no longer truly human: their bodies had been subjected to a dark ritual, shortening their lives to two years but in return, they had gained terrifying strength.
A heavy, suffocating silence hung in the air before the coming war. Persian ships already cut through the waves, crossing the sea. The first clashes had already taken place between their scouts and Greek patrols. On land, the Persian army advanced toward the fortified mountains. And battle could begin at any moment.
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POV Atreus
As I walked through the ranks of Spartans, their eyes followed me.
I heard whispers spreading among the lines one name rising louder and louder: Damocles.
"You see? They haven't forgotten you," Heron said with a faint smirk.
His new arm, forged from living metal, moved obediently, responding to every command.
"It feels good to be among brothers again," I replied, feeling the familiar chill of steel under my skin and the scent of the coming battle.
At Thermopylae, only Spartans had been left to hold the pass.
Everyone understood: only Spartans could stand firm where others would break and retreat.
No one else could endure such a long struggle and not lose heart in the face of thousands of foes.
"Their hearts will take strength knowing a warrior like you stands beside them," Heron said.
"They need not believe in me," I shook my head. "Let each man believe in himself. Only then will we stand against any threat."
I looked over the lines of Spartans and felt certainty take root in me: we could face any darkness.
And while I was here, Kratos had gone to Athens, to meet the enemy at sea alongside the fleet.
Meanwhile, Olympus would fight the dark gods.
"So these are the metal Spartans," Heron murmured, studying the golems that bore the souls of Spartans.
Some of them were even talking to the living it seemed many were once comrades.
"Yes. Hephaestus managed to forge only three hundred of them," I said.
"They'll serve well," Heron nodded. "They'll take the first and fiercest blow."
As we neared the defensive line, everyone stepped aside, giving me a path forward.
Standing before the pass, I could already see the approaching Persian army.
"The battle will start soon," I said. "Heron, take command."
"It would be my honor, but you are our general," Heron answered. "I'll aid you while you face their mightiest."
"So be it."
I raised my voice so all could hear:
"Spartans! Today the world will once again witness the fury and resolve of Sparta! We will hold this pass and let no enemy through. Between our homes and the darkness stand only our shields and spears! For Greece!" I roared.
"Auv! Auv! Auv!" the cry thundered back through the ranks in perfect unison.
"Form up! Phalanx formation! Rotate the front line every five minutes! Wounded to the rear!" I barked order after order, and the Spartans moved as one. First in line stood the metal warriors, who would bear the brunt of the assault.
"You'd make a fine orator, Damocles," Damipp remarked with a faint grin.
"I've told you, my name is Atreus," I replied, tightening my grip on my spear as I stared at the advancing black tide of the Persian host.
"Tell that to the living. I'm dead and to me, you'll always be Damocles," Damipp said.
The ground trembled with the echo of thousands of marching feet. Toward us came an army whose very step made the cliffs quake. Among them I saw not only men but beasts cloaked in darkness their bodies twisted by magic, stronger than ordinary monsters. I saw cyclopes hauling massive siege engines.
Among the soldiers were others giants, many times the height of a man, and through the cracks of their armor, I glimpsed dozens of souls bound together. Dark magic had birthed them; to use such things was inhuman. We faced a battle without mercy. They would try to crush us with sheer numbers.
"A fine day to die," said Leonidas, the former king of Sparta, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
Perhaps he was right. We might all have to fall here, so the army could not break through.
The enemy halted a few hundred meters away. Preparations for the siege began. Catapults lined up, and cyclopes loaded them with huge boulders. The giant soldiers pulled back the machines and aimed. Then they fired.
Stones soared into the sky; many struck the cliffs, but some hurtled straight toward us. They seemed sure to strike but then a strange dome flared above our heads, shielding us from the impact. The stones shattered against the invisible barrier.
Then came a true storm more stones, arrows, splinters, and magical fire. All of it broke against our dome. I closed my eyes, focusing my will on the shield. It held.
The bombardment lasted for many hours. At last, the enemy's patience snapped and their army began to advance.
First came the infantry.
"Time to bathe our blades in blood," Leonidas murmured.
"We'll give them a worthy fight," Heron shouted, his eyes burning with resolve.
"Spears!" I commanded.
The points thrust forward, gleaming in the sunlight. The Spartan golems stood firm, as if carved from heaven itself unshakable and silent.
And then the darkness itself surged toward us, as if evil had taken form. The enemy wave crashed forward, and the first clash thundered like a lightning strike. Steel met flesh, spilling the first drops of blood and so began the battle that would decide whether Greece would stand, or whether all mankind would fall.