Hercules

Hercules, the Guardian of the Hot Gates, learns that his purpose is to protect the sacred springs until a future king of Sparta fulfills the purpose of the gates. He faces an opponent that threatens his role as the patron of the hot springs as well as the link between Hercules and the man who will fight a dark army in the future. "The Spartan king smiled grimly at a steady human river overflowing, observing its ominous glare as it darkly descended. The Immortals flowed ceaselessly before his eyes. Leonidas saw his life's days lunging at him like a spear. The Spartans stood undaunted and untrammeled against the Persian multitudes, flanked by time and timeless necessity. The moon glowed silver above the scene of imminent bloodshed. He shouted with a voice near-silent and near-seismic in its depth. Fists of fury came from all sides, and he brushed aside the looming shadow of quick, undignified defeat. Leonidas' mind soared above a factory of fear, letting his memory resume the endless toil of telling his life's tale. But he felt it. The end was drawing near. The Immortals rushed at him as his memory continued to wade the abysmal calm of battle. Everything unfolded in slow motion around him, and memory only allowed half-voices to break through the bruised silence. The Persian hordes moved in a stream unrelenting, their king, Xerxes, casting a wide, fleeting gaze that, to the Spartan king, remained beyond shattering. For a moment, Leonidas' eyes moved swiftly upon the ghostly stream, becoming interlocked with Xerxes' darkly smiling eyes. In that moment, memory retreated into its own separate stream, flowing back into blind caverns now half-white with longing. The soundless dance of the Spartan king's memory ceased, ceding its space to the valiant effort of briefly bringing about undying death's repose. The near-silence of memory once again yielded to blood-filled sounds. The Spartans felt arrows of fear fall in an inconsequential torrent, for their hearts remained fierce and unbroken in death's steady approach. They fought off the fear, shielding themselves with their courage. Leonidas shouted as his scarred limbs collided with a small, whirling ocean of blades. The Spartans fall one by one, a cloud of dark fury moving upon the once-bloodless sea of quiet.