Everything these past few days have been a blur. One fight after another.

And it all surmounts here. Several Gods’ likenesses have been cast, specters of Nyx designed to fight the heroes.

Most of them were taken down. Except for the three before you now.

Ares, Apollo, and Artemis. Their shades have no mind, no soul, no memories of the people they were cast after. They exist to fight for Nyx’s will.

Nyx herself is pinned. The other heroes have that down. You, however, have been given instruction. Instruction to hold this pass through the forest as long as possible.

This is your Thermopylae. They are your Xerxes.