The world was young compared to the rest of the galaxy. So young that people still rode on horseback in suits of steel, people still swung their scythes in the fields of grain, and would watch men fight to the death in the arena. These people were known as the Greeks, but their government's inner workings still evaded us. They were much less sophisticated then us. They would kill whom ever they wished and were simply a vulgar culture. We realized that they were still a young culture, but even so, every culture must be tested. Tested to see if they have the will to succeed and the instincts to survive, and their time was at hand.
The golden fields of grain waved back and forth in the wind, a herd of deer stood at the field's edge, and all seemed well. Suddenly, the winds began to howl, and the deer began to scatter. The ground started to shake; with every second the ground shook more violently. Then a slight glint of light flashed from the crest of a distant hill. In a matter of seconds, that glint became many, and those many glints were moving.
A massive army of gold plated soldiers marched along the secluded country road. These soldiers were intimidating in the least. They were large muscular men carrying an array of weapons from gigantic great-swords to the lethal javelin. Accompanying these Shining Gold Hoplites were hundreds of smaller soldiers wrapped in black cloth. They carried a bow-n-arrow and a deadly dagger. This mysterious group of soldiers made no sounds; every one of their footsteps was muffled. It was as though they weren't even there. Dotted thinly through the massive phalanx formation were men dressed in large robes that carried large staves. These sorcerers constant chanting mixed into the sounds of the marching to create the more gentle sound of war.
As for me, I am one of the prophets. We are the generals of the Army of the Divine and the elite guard of the Divine Hierarchy. We deliver the message of Armageddon as set forth by the Divine Hierarchy. We are the evaluators, the executioners, and the deliverers.
Our massive army cast a shadow over a small Greek town. We could see the people running everywhere in an attempt to flee the imminent onslaught. A shout echoed through the ranks calling the archers forward. Another shout gave the order to make ready, and then silence. No one moved or made a sound. Then an order was barked to the hoplites to advance, and no sooner was the last syllable clear of the generals lips the hoplites advanced. Another order was bellowed across the ranks, this time to the archers. One simple word was spoken, only one word… release. Arrows tore through the sky like a fist through paper. A loud whistle could be heard as they flew. We followed the arrows flight all the way to the end. Anyone in the open was immediately vanquished.
Soon after the arrows had landed the hoplites entered the town with blades drawn. They swung their great-swords through the air and down upon their outmatched opponents. Their javelins were thrust through their opponent's bodies with out hesitation. The battle was quick and one sided. The village was destroyed and the golden hoplites emerged victorious. Smoke filled the sky as the small town was burned to the ground. The screams of those whom were burning to death filled our ears. The soldiers shouted and cheered in triumph, but in my mind I had wondered if this blatant show of hostility and force had finally awoken the legendary beast that was suppose to be Greece.
