A/N: Yay! Another chapter. Spartans, what is our profession? Battle of Thermopylae makes a guest appearance! Anyways, Neko, you can definitely remove that gun from my ass now. Muchas gracias.

2: 300 Toa—Er, Spartans

480 BC

Approx 1500 BGC

The intruder growled in frustration. He had observed the battle for days. Those "Spartans" had held out, indeed successfully, against the Persians. They were too similar to the Toa back home. He left because he realised Teridax saw no need for a Lieutenant when—no, not if—he went ahead with his coup d'état. Also, those Toa were getting so annoying that he would have killed himself over their stupidity and "heroics" if he ever decided to stay longer. Ever in the heartstones of the Matoran, those idiots.

Why stay and face certain doom under Teridax when he could simply abandon ship and have his own world to rule over? Of course, not before he faked his own death. It would take years of intensive investigation or sheer luck to uncover his ploy. But who would bother? The body of Makuta Krendaz, apparently dead of a Skakdi attack, was there for all to see!

Now, these Spartans were too Toa-like, too irritating. Now, he was going to act. The human weakling tied up next to him would be the key. He allowed his crooked grin to show as he edged toward the terrified being before him. He ran his claw along its cheek, drawing blood while doing so.

"I want the Persians to win. And you are going to help me, Ephialtes." Krendez hissed as his victim trembled; the bodies of his friends should be enough incentive to cooperate.

"Now, before you go kill yourself or, worse still, tell your friends…" he let the sentence trail as he drew a shadow kraata out from the recesses of his cloak, enjoying the dilation of Ephialtes' pupils, "I'm going to let my little pet feast."

In one swift motion he tore off the gag and shoved the kraata down the human's throat. It began gagging and its pupils started bulging as the two spirits battled for dominance over the body they shared. As the coughing stopped, the figure looked up, into the eyes of the Makuta.

"What will you have me do, Master?" It hissed, pupils now a disturbing reddish-black shade.

Makuta Krendez smiled crookedly. Sparta would fall, and it would begin today.

The cloaked figure sighed heavily as it ejected a spent battery from his custom Nyrah Elemental Charger. The bodies of at least twelve Persian scouts lay around him. Dead from extensive plasma burns. He had no choice but to kill them, or they would've killed him.

Their king disgusted him. Too much like the Dark Hunters for his liking. Too crazy too. Like the man in Toa Helryx's message 20 years ago. Haavok didn't want to kill him. His profile was too high. So he didn't. He'd only had to kill once before: the tax collector who found his hideout while looking for evaders. The blood he shed today was necessary, but—Mata Nui help him—he knew they would come back to haunt him. He turned around and saddled his horse. It was time to fall back.

From the safety of the shadows, Makuta Krendez hissed in anger. A Toa! What in the name of… What the hell is a Toa doing here? Was he a deserter too?

Makuta Krendez decided to give chase, but his target was almost out of sight.

"I WILL find you, Toa. And I will KILL you in the most painful way possible. SO SAYS MAKUTA KRENDEZ." Makuta Krendez decided that he now needed to be very careful about what he does.

Unfortunately, while he was walking away and shaking his fist, Makuta Krendez failed to see the drop in front of him, or how high it was. Fortunately for him, Makuta are notoriously difficult to kill.

A/N: So there you go: Chapter 2. Poor Ephialtes of Trachis never meant to betray is fellows. Blame him! (Points to Makuta Krendez, who is sulking in a cell)

I have a serious writer's block so my other story, "The Mission", is not to be updated for a while (with the exceptions of fillers). My stories should be updated every 2-4 weeks,except during minor emergencies and brain blockages.

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