Yes. Time to meet the biggest badass in all of greece.

Dario led us toward the grand king’s hall, its towering doors flanked by intricately carved columns depicting heroic Spartan legends. The entrance was as imposing as it was beautiful, with its sculpted reliefs and polished stone glinting in the sunlight. Two royal guards stood vigilant, their bronze armor gleaming and spears at the ready.

“Halt!” barked one of the guards, stepping forward to block our path with his spear.

“Are you blind, Pikkos? Don’t you see who I am?” Dario snapped, his tone sharp with irritation. His hand instinctively moved to rest on the hilt of his sword, though he didn’t draw it.

“Forgive me, General,” Pikkos replied, his voice firm but respectful. “We’re following standard protocol. You know how it is.” He gestured slightly to his companion, who mirrored his stance.

Dario's grip on his weapon tightened, and he inhaled sharply, ready to protest, but I raised a hand to stop him. “It’s all right,” I said calmly, stepping forward. They’re just doing their duty. It’s important that we show respect for their procedures.

Dario hesitated, visibly bristling, but finally nodded. “Fine,” he muttered, stepping back.

I turned to Pikkos with a disarming smile. “Here,” I said, handing him Dawn, the blade catching the light as I passed it over. “Take good care of it, won’t you?” I added with a playful wink. The guard looked slightly taken aback by my easy demeanor but accepted the weapon with a curt nod.

The guards turned their attention to the rest of the group, their eyes scanning for weapons. They moved methodically, their hands searching for hidden blades or concealed items. Ikaro surrendered his Xiphos reluctantly, mumbling something under his breath about needing it for protection, while Iris handed over her hunting knives with a roll of her eyes, clearly unimpressed by the procedure. Noor, however, stood still, her lips curling into a coy smile as one of the guards hesitated before patting her down.

“Careful, soldier,” she purred, her voice dripping with playful menace. “I’d hate for those hands to wander somewhere... unfortunate.” She winked at me, her teasing confidence belying the tension in her stance.

The guard flushed but kept his composure, eventually pulling a small dagger from the folds of her robes. “And this?” he asked, holding it up.

“Just a keepsake,” she replied sweetly, her expression serene.

As the guard moved away, I caught a flicker of something in Noor’s expression, too calm, too composed. She wasn’t done. My eyes narrowed slightly, and I gave her a pointed look, silently urging her to comply fully. She held my gaze, the teasing glint in her eyes fading into something colder, more defiant.

“Noor,” I said firmly, my voice low but resolute. “We’re all in this together. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought she might refuse. The guards, sensing the tension, shifted uneasily, their grips tightening on their spears. Dario’s hand moved instinctively to his hilt again, ready to intervene.

Finally, with a dramatic sigh, Noor reached into the folds of her robes and withdrew a second dagger, its sleek blade glinting wickedly. “There,” she said, dropping it into the weapon rack with a distinct clatter. “Happy now?”

The guards exchanged glances, their wariness palpable. I let out a soft chuckle, breaking the tension. “Don’t worry, she’s harmless. Mostly,” I added, casting Noor a playful grin. Her lips twitched, a **** smile tugging at the corners.

Pikkos exhaled audibly, lowering his spear. “You may proceed, General,” he said, his voice strained but respectful.

Dario stepped forward, his patience clearly frayed. With a powerful shove, he pushed open the massive double doors, revealing the opulent interior of the king’s hall. “Let’s not keep the king waiting,” he muttered, leading the way inside.

I glanced back at Noor, who was adjusting her robes with a huff. “Thank you,” I said softly, earning a sidelong glance and a slight nod before we followed Dario into the hall.

The king’s hall was a masterpiece of Spartan architecture, its high vaulted ceilings adorned with frescoes of ancient battles and heroic victories. Crimson banners bearing the Lambda symbol draped the walls, and the polished marble floor beneath our feet reflected the glow of torches mounted along the columns. At the end of the hall, the Spartan throne stood on a raised dais, its carved wood inlaid with gold and obsidian, flanked by the crimson and black colors of the Spartan flag. Every detail proclaimed power, discipline, and unyielding pride.

Leonidas sat upon the throne, his posture regal but relaxed, his sharp eyes taking in every detail of our arrival. At his side stood Queen Gorgo, a vision of grace and authority, her beauty matched only by the commanding presence in her gaze. Together, they radiated the kind of unity that could inspire nations.

“Ah, Dario! It warms my heart to see you back on Spartan soil,” Leonidas said, his deep voice carrying effortlessly across the hall. He clasped Gorgo’s hand, their united stance a silent but powerful statement. “And I see you’ve brought... company.”
Dario dropped to one knee, his movement fluid and precise, a reverent gesture. He motioned for us to follow suit. Most of us complied, though Noor lingered for a moment, her expression tight with defiance. Her Persian pride bristled at the gesture, but she finally lowered herself into a shallow bow, her **** evident.

“Indeed, my king,” Dario said, straightening. “And I bring news of victory.” From his satchel, he retrieved a braided lock of coarse, dark hair, holding it high for the king and queen to see. “Polyphemus has fallen. The beast will trouble Sparta no more.”

A murmur of approval rippled through the hall as Leonidas and Gorgo exchanged a glance, their faces lighting with satisfaction. Rising from their seats, they approached us, their steps purposeful and measured.

“You’ve done well, General,” Gorgo said, her voice a melodic counterpoint to her husband’s deep timbre. “Sparta owes you a debt of gratitude.”

“I must disagree,” Dario said, bowing his head humbly. “The credit does not belong to me alone. Allow me to introduce the heroes who made this victory possible.”

He gestured toward each of us in turn, naming our roles. When his hand swept toward Noor, Leonidas’s expression hardened slightly. His sharp gaze lingered on her longer than was comfortable, the tension palpable. A Persian walking freely in Sparta was an affront to their unrelenting rivalry, and suspicion darkened his features despite Dario’s assurances.

“And lastly,” Dario continued, his smirk returning as he motioned to me, “this young warrior, Kayn, led the charge. You should have seen him, my king. He soared like an eagle and struck like Zeus’s thunderbolt.”

Leonidas’s stern expression softened slightly, and a warm smile spread across his face. “It seems you are a capable warrior indeed,” he said, his tone edged with approval.

Queen Gorgo’s voice followed, her words like a balm. “Thank you for delivering justice to the cyclops,” she said, her melodic voice rich with sincerity. “If there is a reward you seek, name it, and it shall be yours.”

I bowed my head humbly. “We ask for no reward, only for you to listen to what we have to say. The threat we face is far from over.”

Intrigued, Leonidas nodded. “Speak.”

I recounted our journey, our battle in Helos and the **** of Arbos, the clash with the Erebosians at Delphi, and the looming darkness spreading across the land. As I spoke, Leonidas’s expression shifted from doubt to contemplation, his strides measured as he paced the room. Gorgo, in contrast, appeared wholly absorbed, her brow furrowed with concern. Hearing Arbos **** made Leonidas sorrow and vexed, a hero of Sparta had fallen.

“And these Erebosians,” Leonidas said, his tone skeptical, “you claim they are the reason of the ancient beast attacks? Why the satyr decided to start raiding? Why the cyclops decided to make a meal out of my people?!”

Before I could answer, Entinos stepped forward, his towering frame commanding attention. “My king,” he said, his voice steady and calm, “my people do not engage in war with humanity without provocation or if they belong to a xenophobic clan. I have seen these Erebosians myself. They are unlike anything we have faced before. If we are to survive, we must stand united.”

"He’s right husband.” Gorgo said calming her husband. “This threat is real, I can feel it in the air. For Polyphemus to have appeared in our lands looking for war and destruction is something out of the ordinary and I don’t believe the chosen is lying to us.”

Leonidas studied him for a long moment, his distrust still simmering beneath the surface “I can believe him." His eyes darted back to Noor, narrowing with disdain. “But why,” he asked coldly, “is a Persian walking freely in my halls?”

Noor straightened, her pride flaring like a flame. “Excuse me?” she shot back, her voice sharp with indignation.

“You heard me, Persian,” Leonidas said, his tone cutting. “We are at war, and your presence here is an affront. By all rights, you should be executed for stepping into this city.”

“Leonidas!” Gorgo said, her voice firm but measured.

Dario stepped between Noor and Leonidas, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “My king,” he said, his voice steady, “I vouch for her. She has fought by our side with honour and saved many lives.”

Ikaro placed a calming hand on Noor’s arm, his grip firm but gentle. “He’s not worth it, don't do anything stupid.” he whispered, his tone laced with warning.

Noor glared at Leonidas, her hands curling into fists. “You should be thanking me,” she said, her voice dangerously low. “Without me, your ‘victory’ would have been ashes.”

I stepped forward, raising my voice to cut through the tension. “Enough!” I said, the authority in my tone silencing the room. “We came here seeking allies, not enemies. The threat we face doesn’t care about borders or rivalries. It will consume us all if we let it.”

Leonidas’s gaze bore into mine, the weight of his scrutiny heavy. Finally, he nodded, though his expression remained guarded. “You make a strong case, Chosen,” he said, his tone grudging. “But if you want Sparta’s aid, you’ll need more than words.”

Before another word could be spoken, a sudden, resonant voice echoed through the hall, carrying with it a divine authority.

“Perhaps I can help with that,” the voice declared.
A radiant light illuminated the room, and from it emerged Athena, her presence commanding and serene. The Spartan monarchs and Dario immediately fell to their knees, bowing in reverence.

I exchanged a knowing look with Athena, a smirk tugging at my lips. “Is it always this dramatic when you show up?” I teased, unable to resist.

Athena rolled her eyes, but her expression softened as she gave me a playful wink. “You could say that,” she replied lightly before addressing the others.
“Rise. I come to you not as a goddess to be worshipped but as an ally in these troubling times.”
The Spartan monarchs stood, regaining their composure. Leonidas, ever the king, straightened his shoulders and spoke with measured respect.

“Yes... what brings the goddess of war and wisdom to grace us with her presence today?”

Athena’s tone shifted, becoming more formal and commanding. “I am here to confirm the words of the chosen and to speak of the threat that looms over all of us. The Erebosians are not merely a danger to one city or one land they are a scourge upon the mortal realm itself.”

The room grew heavy with tension as Athena described the dire situation. “This is no time for division. We must put aside our rivalries and stand united as one Greece. The time for action has already come. The Erebosians have begun their campaign of destruction.” She said in a dire as she had bad news to share with us.

“Athena, is there something you want to tell us?” I inquire feeling her sadness at the news she has for us.

Athena hesitated, her usual poise giving way to a shadow of sorrow. “The Erebosians sent their necromancer, Arkealus the one you face at Delphi, and their warlord, Drakthar, to Chalci. By the time the sun rose, Chalci was no more.”

Gasps filled the room, and I felt my chest tighten. “Gone? What do you mean, ‘gone’?” I demanded.

Athena’s voice was heavy with grief as she continued. “They struck in the dead of night, shrouded in shadows. When they finished, the city was engulfed in flames, its streets littered with the dead. There are no survivors.”

To emphasize her point, she produced a bloodied, charred helmet a grim token from the ruins of Chalci. “If this is not proof of the Erebosian threat, then you are blind to the peril that surrounds you.”

Leonidas clenched his fists, his face a mask of anger and determination. Gorgo placed a hand on his arm, her silent support grounding him. After a moment of deliberation, he nodded. “Very well. I will send the ravens. The landmeet will be called.”

Athena exhaled, her posture relaxing ever so slightly. “Thank you,” she said, her tone sincere seeing that the spartans proved to be people of wisdom and not only war.

The hall was silent after Leonidas dismissed his earlier suspicions. His sharp eyes softened as they fell upon Ikaro, Iris, and Dario. The weight of Arbos’s **** on the hand of the erebosian assassin was palpable, even in a room as grand as this. The Spartan king straightened his posture, his expression one of solemn reverence.

“Before we speak further of war or alliances, there is a matter of honor to address,” Leonidas began. He stepped closer to the siblings, his commanding presence tempered with empathy. “Arbos was not only a warrior but a man of principle and loyalty. He was a friend to this crown, a hero to Sparta, and a father who clearly raised his children to uphold the values of our people.”

Ikaro and Iris exchanged a glance, their expressions a mixture of pride and grief. Dario placed a steadying hand on Ikaro’s shoulder, his own eyes glistening with restrained emotion.
Leonidas’s voice softened as he continued. “I will see to it that Arbos’s name is immortalized in the books of Spartan history. A pyre will be lit in his honor, and his deeds will be spoken of in the Agoras. Every Spartan will know of his sacrifices and his service to our land.”

Queen Gorgo stepped forward, her calm and graceful presence lending strength to her husband’s words. “His legacy lives on through all of you,” she said, her gaze gentle but firm. “I see his courage in your eyes and his strength in your actions. Sparta mourns with you, but we also celebrate the life of a great man.”

Ikaro, usually quick with a joke or a quip, found himself at a loss for words. Instead, he bowed his head, his lips pressed tightly together as he fought to contain his emotions. Iris, standing beside him, blinked back tears and straightened her posture, as if drawing strength from her father’s memory.

“Thank you,” Dario finally said, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “My brother would be honoured to hear such words from you both. He always held great respect for the crown.”

Leonidas placed a hand over his chest, a gesture of solidarity. “The honor is ours. let his memory and the gods guide us as we face the darkness ahead.”

As the group began to leave the hall, Athena reached out and caught my arm. Her touch was firm but carried an uncharacteristic hesitation. When I turned to face her, her eyes, usually steady and resolute, were softer, filled with something unspoken.

“Come with me,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with an unfamiliar fragility.

Without waiting for my response, she led me to a smaller, dimly lit room away from the others. The air felt heavier here, the silence amplifying the weight of what had just been revealed. Once the door shut behind us, Athena turned to me. Before I could say anything, she stepped forward and embraced me tightly.

“Umm, are you—” I began, caught off guard by the sudden gesture.

“No,” she interrupted, her voice trembling as she clung to me. “I need this right now.”

Her grip tightened, her fingers clutching at the fabric of my tunic as though afraid to let go. Her breathing was uneven, and I could feel the faintest quiver in her shoulders. The warmth of her body against mine was both comforting and unsettling comforting because it allowed me to be close to her beautiful body and presence again, unsettling because it revealed her vulnerability and pain in this moment.

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Seeing someone as divine and composed as Athena unravel, even slightly, was like watching a star flicker in the night sky something that shouldn’t be possible, yet here it was. Slowly, I raised my arms and wrapped them around her, trying to offer her the same reassurance she had so often given me.
For a few moments, neither of us spoke. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the quiet sound of her breathing and the faint, rhythmic thud of her heartbeat against my chest.

When she finally pulled away, her movements were ****. She turned her face to the side, trying to hide the tears that streaked her cheeks.

“Athena,” I said softly, reaching out to her. Gently, I placed a hand under her chin and tilted her face upward. Her eyes met mine, glistening with unshed tears that reflected the dim light. The sight of her like this, raw and unguarded, made my chest tighten. “What happened?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She wiped at her tears with trembling fingers but didn’t pull away from my touch. “I wouldn’t wish for any mortal to suffer what I saw in Chalci,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. The anger and sadness in her words were palpable, a storm barely contained. “Kayn, they need to be stopped. No matter what it takes.”

“I know,” I replied, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with my thumb. My hand lingered there, hoping to provide some measure of comfort. “And I promise, I’ll do everything I can to stop them. But you don’t have to carry this alone, Athena. If you need to speak your mind, to let it out...I’m here. Always. You know that, right?”

Her gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight in her eyes seemed to lift. “…I know,” she murmured. Her tone was raw, genuine, as if my words had reached a part of her that she rarely let others see. “Thank you.”

Her eyes lingered on mine, searching for something, though I couldn’t quite tell what. Then, as quickly as the vulnerability had surfaced, she straightened, regaining a semblance of her usual composure.

“But… I need some time alone,” she said, her voice steadier now but still tinged with emotion. “I’ll see you again soon.”

Before I could respond, she turned and left. I remained where I was, staring at the place where she just stood a second ago, my thoughts swirling with everything that had just transpired.

“Well,” I muttered to myself, running a hand through my hair. “My day can’t get any shittier, can it?”