A gentle breeze rippled the water of the sanctuary. Silence, save for the soft sloshing of waves against the marble stones and ruins and the low hum of the energy lines that hung in the sky.

Then, movement. A shadow shifted underneath the surface of the water. The black mass writhed and slithered its way towards the central plinth, whereupon it stopped. From the center of the mass, first emerged a long, black tube, capped with a rectangular attachment almost blade-like in design. The tube, attached to an equally monstrous looking rifle, was attached to the back of a man. Then a head slowly rose out of the water, wreathed in thick, black smoke that seeped in rolling wisps from the eyes of the man. The smoke roiled and wrapped itself around its host as the rest of the man emerged from the depths. Clad in what appeared to be modern ballistic armour, clothes and combat boots, the spirit, once a man, stepped forth and looked around.

Where...am I?

Cho scanned the arena slowly. His new eyes could see almost everything, including life and spirits, but this place was devoid of everything. Empty. The ruins of the statues and structures stood out the most; a stark white against the low grey of the perpetually cloudy sky. Above him the energy lines thrummed into life, almost as if the arena had sensed his arrival. The plinth, however, remained inactive. Cho stared at it, trying to make sense of the foreign environment he was in.

It's...waiting for something. Or...someone?

Ever since his death against the Viking warrior Kolskegg, Cho had run away from that forest to escape what cruel fate would befall him if he'd stayed. Through his travels in the darkness he came to learn that his Earth was part of a multiverse; an infinite amount of worlds and universes that could be traversed by the well knowledgeable. Slowly he came to learn of how to control his shadowy powers, but never once did he come to learn of their origin. All he knew was that he'd died, and had promptly come back to life not a minute later as a body without life, but with a soul. His soul. His heart did not beat, instead it throbbed, filling his body with a cold, inky black that powered him with darkness.

Maybe, this was a calling. For him to wander, a spirit eternal, between dimensions, to explore and to fight.

He walked away from the plinth and chose a smaller rock upon which to sit. His Vector rested on his lap and his Intervention hung from his back.

Perhaps he'd wait here. For that...someone to show up.

@Imaginary

A single, piercing ray of light shown in the darkness as the Helot opened the door, flooding the downstairs area with an iridescent glow. Flanked by a squad of soldiers, the man’s downtrodden body quickly made its way to the entrance of Kallisto’s prison cell. He opened the door and backed away as the head of the soldiers stepped inside. The tall, armor covered man rested his hand on the hilt of the sword in his belt as he spoke, “You. Woman. Come with me.” His voice was gruff and authoritative. Kallisto was sitting on the ground against the wall in the corner of the cell. She lifted her head from its drooped position and looked into the guard’s eyes.

“Where am I going?” She asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper. She hadn’t spoken in what seemed like decades. It may have very well been centuries. The man didn’t answer. Instead, he sneered at her and spit on the ground at his feet. When he turned back and walked out of the cell, Kallisto immediately stood up to follow. Being anywhere else was better than being here.

Kallisto walked between the squad, one man on each of her sides with the sneering guard at her front and a man twice her size bringing up the rear. Her hands and feet were shackled together. This was amusing to her. Do they expect me to take them all by myself, she thought. She had barely eaten since she had been imprisoned. Walking was hard enough.

She was brought into a brilliantly white room. She expected it to resemble The Parthenon but instead, it was simply four white walls and a white ceiling. There was nothing in the room other than Kallisto and the men who escorted her. Immediately, those men disappeared. In their place stood a woman of immense beauty. Her deep red curls extended all the way down to her waist. Her piercing green eyes held a fire that terrified and mesmerized Kallisto equally. Athena.

The goddess slowly circled Kallisto, extending her hand to grasp a small piece of her hair. “Are you ready?” she asked. She stopped in front of Kallisto’s face, dropping her hands to her side. She leaned forward until her lips brushed the edge of the Spartans. That light touch sent a shock through Kallisto’s body. She no longer felt weak or hungry. Athena had restored her strength to its peak. The deity was only a fraction taller than Kallisto but her eyes dropped dramatically as she continued. “Do you remember everything I told you?” The warrior thought Athena was attempting seduction but all Kallisto felt was fear. She barely nodded. “Good.” Athena said. She brought her lips up and kissed Kallisto’s forehead.

The warrior was immediately transported to a place she had never been. She looked down and realized Athena had given her the armor she had died with. Her bronze shield was already strapped to her left arm, covering the most vital parts of her body. Her helmet was in place, allowing only the slits of her eyes to be seen. Her breastplate hung heavy on her chest, accompanying the belt that carried her sword. Her spear was in her right hand. Its familiar feel was only the slightest comfort in this alien world. Kallisto immediately dropped her knees to a defensive crouch, holding her shield close to her front. Only from her eyes to the top of her helmet were visible around it. She dropped her spear parallel with the ground and clung to it tightly. She scanned the horizon, taking in any detail she could before her opponent made itself known.

He heard the gentle splash of water before he saw the warrior touch down.

He got up from his perch and readied his rifle as he saw the warrior appear from seemed to be nowhere. Immediately his brain tagged the newcomer as not being a Viking; the armour was completely different. Something was familiar about her though, the way her armour looked, the way she held her spear. Cho knew where she was from immediately, without having to consult any technology.

A Spartan. She was a Spartan.

Thank you 300.

He slowly advanced forward as she dropped to a crouch and scanned the area, rifle down but at the ready.

In the center of the arena, the plinth began to glow. A small monolith soundlessly rose from its core, polished white marble and intricate carvings. From within this monolith sprang an immense forcefield that encircled the area, glowing a faint blue before it disappeared from view. No doubt its invisibility was meant to keep the aesthetic of the arena itself.

Cho kept an eye on the warrior. Something told him this Spartan was dangerous as Kolskegg was. Warily he stepped closer, raising a hand in greeting.

"Hail, stranger. Were you drawn here as well?"

Kallisto watched as the force field closed over the arena. At first the ambient light was a strain to her eyes but once it was set in place, the light dimmed and her view was clear again. There was movement ahead of her, to the left of the pathway she stood on. A man slowly made his way to where the Spartan was standing. He raised his hand slightly. It appeared to be a gesture of appeasement. "Hail, stranger. Were you drawn here as well?" Kallisto didn't flinch. A warning from Athena ran through her thoughts.

"Never discourse with your opponent. They will find a weakness and they will exploit it." This terrain and this man were foreign to Kallisto and she wasn't going to take a chance just to make friends. She took in her environment in order to best forumlate a plan of action. The man was roughly her height but easily had 30 lbs on her. If he had any skill whatsoever, hand to hand combat would not be in her favor. Keeping her shield up and her spear parallel to the ground, she slowly started backing up, directly in the path she was on. She was only a few feet from a massive pillar that was cracking around the base. She continued to back up until she felt the cool stone on her back. It wasn't the most ideal defensive place but it would prevent an attack from the back. She crouched back down in defense, waiting for this stranger to make his move.

"Okay then, I guess you're not here to make friends.

Cho sensed the hostility of the woman way before her shield went up, but he kept his distance. This lady had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, armed to the teeth and with an intent to seemingly cause hurt.

Then again, this was an arena and arenas were where people came to fight. Cho guessed that she was the same, no doubt told by whatever high powers that she followed. It was eerily similar to his encounter with Kolskegg, when he was human.

He wouldn't take a chance this time.

This warrior had only a sword, spear and shield with her, along with armour. Using his sniper rifle here would be overkill. That being said, he flipped Tac's bipod down and took off the sling, moving slowly to the side to set the sniper rifle down on a nearby piece of marble. His remaining three weapons would do the trick, he surmised, and he'd probably be using his knife a lot more. Tac wasn't very pleased.

"Boss? Again? Really?"

He chuckled and sighed.

"Relax, Tac. You'll get your chance. Besides, it's not like I already use you a lot in regular missions, right?"

The daemon, and by extension the rifle, harrumphed in resignation.

"Ugh, fine. But not again, y'hear me? Next fight you're taking me along!"

Inwardly Cho could imagine the plague demon crossing his arms in defeat.

Focus. This is a fight.

Right.

He took Kris into his hands and shouldered the submachine gun. The shadow daemon within giggled with glee as Cho thumbed off the safety and held her in a low ready stance.

"Ooh! Ooh! New person to shoot! Glee!"

"Patience, Kris. Relax."

The soldier glanced down at the gun. It seemed like she was...grinning? He couldn't tell.

Cho returned his gaze to the warrior ahead of him. She'd backed up against a large broken pillar, her shield blocking most of her body and her spear creating a very good reason not to get too close to her.

"Warrior, at least give me thy name! It would not be fair if I were to fight a nameless hero!"

"Warrior, at least give me thy name! It would not be fair if I were to fight a nameless hero!"

Kallisto's adversary tried making conversation with her again. Surely this is an attempt to distract me and not a weakness, she thought. The Spartan was not the type to underestimate her opponent. She watched cautiously as he lowered his weapon at her. Though she lived in ancient times, Athena had granted her familiarity with modern weapons, including the gun the man now held. Kallisto knew better than to wait for him to strike. If she did, her shield may be damaged beyond use.

She instantly scanned the space between them. She estimated it to be the approximate length of her spear, maybe a foot or two longer. Her spear would be her best guarantee right now. In one swift movement, Kalliso rolled the spear in her hand until it rested on the top of her palm and raised it just above the height of her shoulder. Keeping her shield in front of the vital area of her body, she drew back her shoulder, feeling every toned muscle in her back straining with familiarity. This was a move her people had perfected. Her hips rotated, shifting her right leg slightly back to give her leverage. She drew in a breath and lauched the spear in the short distance between her and her foe, aiming straight for his unprotected stomach and intestinal area. She released her breath as the spear left her hand. She dropped back in a defensive crouch and prayed to Athena.

The spear hurtled straight for his gut. Honestly he should've seen it coming. He was in an arena, after all, and this was a fight.

The pointy end of the spear buried itself into his ballistic plating, just an inch or two shy of penetrating his gut where it would've done serious damage, the hardened magical ceramic absorbing most of the force. The momentum of the throw knocked him back a few steps, but he stood firm as the spear's shaft fell onto the water due to gravity. With a weary sigh he grabbed onto the spear's shaft and yanked it out of his torso plating.

"Why is it that everyone I come across has to want to kill me? First Kol, then that undead boxer guy, now you too?..."

He reversed his grip on the spear and tossed it back at the Spartan, shaft first, letting it land in the water just a foot or so ahead of her raised shield.

"You'll have to do better than that, Spartan."

With his right he drew Hek, the pistol rumbling into life as he thumbed off the safety and aimed it at the shield.

"You require my aid, sire?"

"Eeyup. Give her hell."

"Of course, sire."

Cho pulled the trigger and Hek spat a dark bolt. The inky black projectile hurtled towards the shield at an incredible speed. If she did not dodge or move her shield, it would splatter against it, then crystallise and harden almost immediately, forming the shape of a cross surrounded by a ring of thorns. Her shield would become much heavier, but also much more brittle, fracturing and breaking if she even moved it too much.

The spear missed. Kallisto could barely believe her eyes. She had decades of training and had slaughtered hundreds of enemy soldiers but couldn’t hit a man standing mere feet in front of her. Her rage enveloped her. Cho staggered slightly from the hit but his face barely flinched. He sighed and pulled the dory from himself.

"Why is it that everyone I come across has to want to kill me? First Kol, then that undead boxer guy, now you too?..."

His incessant chattering was obnoxious and more than Kallisto was willing to put up with. He needed death and he needed it now. She watched as he reversed his grip on the spear and tossed it back at her. It landed in the water at her feet. Why does he not strike at me immediately?

"You'll have to do better than that, Spartan." He challenged her, mocking her. He was too casual, too cavalier and she was going to take advantage of that. She launched at him. The gap between them was small and, if he wasn’t paying attention, she could strike before he made a move.

He drew out his pistol, turning it on and removing the safety. He lowered it at her shield just as she reached him.

"You require my aid, sire?"

"Eeyup. Give her hell."

"Of course, sire."

She was directly in front of him now. If he shot, he’d hit her shield at point blank range. She dropped her left shoulder and arm, causing her shield to follow. She threw her weight down on her knees with her left foot leading her right. The shield pressed up at Cho’s groin, the top of it underneath his chin, at his chest. She sprung off her feet at him, her full weight behind her shield. She was going to put this warrior on his ass.

"Wrong choice."

The ink bolt impacted her shield and instantly crystallised and hardened into a heavy, black mass on the front of the shield. As it rose up towards his face he took two steps backward, pivoting on the ball of his left foot as he swiveled clockwise around, lifting his right leg up to deliver a blistering fast reverse roundhouse kick down against the rising shield. With the black crystals weakening the shield's integrity, the force of this kick would shatter the crystal mass and most likely dent the shield, folding it in twain like a piece of paper, or even breaking it in half if she did not dodge or alter the trajectory of her swing.