All language subtitles for HT The Four XXX

I remember those who died at
Thermopylae.

Renowned is the history.

Noble their fate.

Their grave is an altar.

The

living

write history as the dead cannot speak.

Myth. Is the hidden tale buried within
the truth?

Is the legion still unexplored,
nourished by silence?

My Persia, I have done all that I said I
would.

Deliver words to my people.

I have destroyed Athens.

and Sparta.

I have made kings and false gods kneel
before me.

Now is the time to reveal the hidden.

Those four sisters, the hope of Sparta,
aflame in their hearts.

The fairest the sun ever set eyes upon.

Gorgo, McKaylee, Salamis and Plataea
dare match their combined

glory against the glory of the
annihilation of King Leonidas and his

pass of Thermopylae.

Vengeance their destiny.

Triumph, they're faint.

I will kill your master, your god.

And he will kneel at my feet before he
takes his last breath and begs for his

life.

You are dead, Queen Togo.

Dead!

By the blood of Sparta, the blood that
anoints the arrows of the accursed

immortals that follow the Persian ruler
Xerxes.

Those very same arrows have laid low the
mighty Leonidas.

These sacred relics, collected and
preserved by the gentle hands of Queen

and her sisters in the sorrow raining
down upon the lands of Laconia.

The thoughts.

now turn from the body of her fallen
husband to the vision of a terrible

where the children of Sparta shall be
ruled not by those worthy of the shield,

but by those whose greed has blinded
them to the ways of valor and pride of

accomplishment.

Blood of Sparta washes her hands on the
floor of the temple.

She will make the gods grant her the
power and strength to end the reign of

Xerxes.

O ye men who dwell in the streets of
broad Lacedaemon, either your glorious

pound shall be sacked by the children of
Perseus, or, in exchange, must all

through the whole Laconian country mourn
the loss of a king, descendant of great

Heracles.

My king, I know it's not my place to
worry.

You are who you are and have been from
your very first breath.

Not like you to worry.

I fear the world without you, not only
for myself, but for our being less

place.

Tears are lost in a world of a warrior.

Grief and mourning will not stop the
oncoming armies of Xerxes.

Tossed by the winds of passion, Queen
Gorga seeks the Aethor to quell the

taste the death of Leonidas has laid on
her land.

Her people soon enslaved by the son of
Darius.

She turns to the wisdom of the Aethor
for guidance.

Only a man who lived by the sword shall
understand one who died by the sword.

Should these brave men go unavenged?

Should the forces that wreak havoc with
the children of Heracles fall to the

rule of the egomaniacal son of Darius?

There has to be a way to stop the
advancing immortals.

Spurned in their attempts to sway the
Council of Sparta, Gorgon turns her eyes

to the gods themselves.

Her passion for vengeance hot and
throbbing in her breast.

Love and honor move her to seek the
divine intervention needed to accomplish

goal.

The power of her sorrow is second only
to her thirst to do what is right and

carry on the Spartan way.

How can you allow this to happen?

I allow nothing. I only know what is.

But you, you're close to the gods, and
this?

This is what the gods wish?

Gods don't wish.

Gods just watch.

You just amuse them.

Live or die, there will always be
someone to believe in them.

But is there nothing, nothing you can
do?

What is that you want? And then maybe...
Revenge.

I want revenge for the death of my king,
my husband.

I'm the father of my children.

Revenge?

Now that's both amusing and powerful.

So it's vengeance you want.

One of my more favored human emotions.

Once an honored general forged hard in
battle, the E4 now holds the power of

gods. His command.

I think the gods would be amused by
this.

I will give each and every one of you
the power of 300 Greek warriors.

When you leave this temple, you will
have their strength.

She goes with me.

Relieve her!

I make this pact with the gods, and I'm
left empty -handed?

Let her go!

I see no gold in front of me. What of my
payment?

I ask for very little, my queen, for all
that I'm willing to give.

I give myself, my queen.

You hear the voice of reason. I would
not take what is not rightfully mine.

Everything you want lies just outside
these temple walls.

The blood of the innocent sacrifice and
the blood of the martyred hero flow

intimately upon the floor of the temple
of Delphi.

And this brings God's favors to the
supplicants.

The passion and the fury that unites
their desires shines brightly on the

heavens above.

They cannot be denied.

as to deny this request is to deny the
power of the warrior spirit instilled in

them, their birthright as children of
Sparta.

Infused with the mystery of the E4's
powers, each strides forth to claim the

mantle of the Spartan warrior.

Winds of change fill these four seekers.

Might seeps in their loins, infusing
their spirits with the strength, valor,

courage, and passion of the warrior.

Loss and despair are replaced with the
strength of those fallen, hardening them

into an unstoppable force, ready for any
battle.

Michele, the archer, whose bow will
never be broken. Her aim is always true.

Salamis, the spear poised to strike at
the heart of the opponent, never

from her intended path.

Plataea, the sword who shall not bend.

A blade will never yield to the
onslaught of the enemy.

And Gorga, a mighty shield.

She protects and defends the Spartan
way.

Born of vengeance, forged by the eternal
flame of love, even the gods tremble at

their power.

Once a general, a leader of men that has
seen the sword fall his brethren,

shoulder to shoulder with the shield of
might drawn close against the onslaught

of so many enemies.

His wisdom and valor carried him to the
position of power to transform the word

of the Oracle into the rule of the land.

Jaded and unburdened by the code of
honor that once ruled his life, physical

pleasures and love of gold now rule in
his shriveled heart.

What is it about these women that brings
such compassion to his intervention on

their behalf?

Valor and honor are beyond his ability
to grasp.

He'd given his life for those concepts.

and had turned away from the noble duty
of a warrior to the glory of ego.

Yet now he trembles before the very
essence of the Spartan way, carried in

hearts of those confused and angry
girls.

For youths they are, untested in the
ways of life and war, mothers,

daughters, wives, and each with the cold
desire,

To avenge those she has lost.

To stem the tide of Xerxes' army and
restore peace to Sparta.

Their passion has touched him.

He will take up the path that he long
ago abandoned in his lust for salacious

pleasures.

The general will once again pour the
power at his disposal into doing what is

right. It is the Spartan way.

He may now claim the golden mantle that
never rested easily upon his ravaged

brow. The sign of honor bestowed on only
those ethos who walk as true gods

on the Laconian shores.

Yeah.

You wanna play like that?

Yeah.

It's like my fucking kid. Fucking dirty
whore. Yeah. I have a fucking kid.

That would you like? Yeah.

like that.

Once you talk about that little pussy
Fucking

pretty pretty little pussy that tongue
in there

Yeah, you like that, huh? Yeah.

Yeah,

come on, fuck me.

Two fingers. Put two fingers in there. I
want two fingers in that pussy.

Yeah?

Run your tongue up and down my clit.

Mmm.

A mighty storm blows across the lands
between Greece and Persia.

Xerxes feels the wind at his back and
hears the tread of warrior sandals

toward his temple in the heart of
Persia.

He has had great success in the lands of
Macedonians.

All have fallen in the wake of his
immortal army.

Enslaving the people and leaving Athens
and Sparta in flames has ensured his

conquest. of the Ionian Islands and
Heptonese are his.

No warrior would dare follow him to the
place of his birth.

Persia is inviolate, untouched by the
ravages of the wars that he has waged.

He is the keeper of the golden idol,
Bel.

Taken from the hands of a slain priest
that tried to stand in his way.

He is unconscionable.

Immortal. And as the son of Darius, it
is his duty to control the world his

father died to acquire.

Xerxes has avenged the death of his
father Darius many times over, spilling

blood of the hated Spartans and
Athenians with glee.

Yet he who seeks revenge must be ready
to dig two graves.

My master, what is it you see?

They think they can kill me.

I am a god.

My vision was the same.

Four of them came with Leonidas' blood
arrows.

I will deal with them, and you will give
this no more thought.

oh oh yeah

Hmm.

oh shit

Oh, baby.

Yeah.

Oh, my God. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

Her mission is clear.

Her goal shall be met.

By the power of Zeus himself, these
insurgents will be laid to waste by her

to protect her god.

Wings of eagles carry her to the place
where the four warriors are camped.

The passion of the four women who seek
to slay her god are like a beacon to

follow in the windswept desert.

Burning brightly in this evening gloom,
she rides towards the beacon and

prepares for the confrontation that is
her goal.

These four shall kneel before her god
and accept his glory.

They shall do so, or they shall die by
her hand.

riddled by the arrows and cut apart by
the swords of her immortal command.

There is no place for mercy, as Xerxes
has decreed that their lives belong to

him, dead or alive.

Poor soldiers these Spartans on suicidal
missions wrought of grief and despair,

deluded in their passions to seek
revenge against the king of all worlds.

They shall bow before her and accept
their true God, or she shall deliver

broken bodies to her God instead.

Queen Gorgo, you are far from home.

My home is my heart, and it is filled
with vengeance.

You're almost Sparta, which has been
burned to the ground and your people

enslaved.

Ask yourself, Queen Gorgo, is this a
good day for dying?

Of which you rather live.

I am already dead, priestess.

Just kneel before me, and you will see
my master is very forgiving God.

My husband Leonidas would never kneel,
and neither will we.

What will the four of you do? What
Leonidas 300 could not do?

What all the Greeks could not do? I will
kill your master, your God.

And he will kneel at my feet before he
takes his last breath and begs for his

life.

You are dead, Queen Gorgo.

Dead!

With the power of the 300

coursing through their veins, their
death is not what they fear.

Enslavement. Dishonor.

or the fears that hold deep within their
breast.

To fight and die in the name of Sparta
is their duty, vengeance their destiny,

to come home with their shields, or upon
them, their only

desire.

Watching from high above the fray, the
high priestess flees in terror as the

take on the many and blood pours onto
the sand of Perseus' golden land.

Fears enter her soul for the first time
since she ascended to her throne. Could

these pathetic women bring down her
mighty god Xerxes?

Could her vision be true?

No one can touch the god -king.

No one would dare to stand against the
immortals in the protection of her God.

The four find that the power of their
alliance has set a blaze that shines

across the universe.

They are powerful in their own right,
each able to fight against 300 and 300

more alone.

As Spartans, they dedicate themselves to
protecting and defending each other

with the shield, bow, spear and sword,
working in harmony.

to beat back the oppressors and clear
the way for their onward charge.

As individuals, each must follow her own
path.

That path will fulfill her quest to find
the strength and passion that lives

within her.

The four separate to follow their
destined road to the death of Xerxes.

The sounds of the desert carry curses,
magic, and spirits that relive victories

and defeats from the past and the
future.

Visions that distort their eyes, yet
invoke their power of the slain in their

waking dreams.

McKaylee's journey begins in the hills
of Bagastania, winding her way from

north towards the land of Xerxes.

McKaylee, childhood friend of Gorga, who
trained in the girls' games alongside

the future queen, and who holds the same
bitter desire for revenge as Gorga.

For her, loss is the same.

Her lover taken from her by the snake
that eats the world.

He died at the hot gates as the Spartans
made their valiant stand against the

immortals.

Alone on the sands of memory, she walks
far to meet with her

sisters in the land of Persia.

Strange visions flash in her mind.

as she mounts the rise of the hill.

She is a girl, a wife, a mother.

She lives through each of these moments
as if they are happening right now, in

this time.

Empty shadows, yet so real that she can
almost see them materialize

in the drifting sand that surrounds her.

She feels the presence of her beloved.

Her heart skips a beat as she sees his
broken body materialize before her.

His shield lays on the ground, his
helmet beside his body.

McKaylee reaches the spot where her
beloved lies, and the strength of her

melds with the compassion and innate
power of her spirit.

She carries the ability not only to be
the warrior, but to be the priestess.

She may offer solace to the wounded,
breathing into a dying lover

the strength of life.

He stirs.

his body releasing his memories of his
own fate into a loving embrace.

She takes his life as her sacrament and
gives him back her devotion.

So this way, he can cross over into the
next world, knowing love, not pain.

These glorious moments outside of time
and space with her love embolden her.

She has reached the turning point on her
quest for wisdom, and she goes forth

with the courage to defeat any opponent.

Yeah.

You can suck dick half as good as I've
seen you fight.

You should be able to take this whole
thing. Let me see it.

Take it.

Let me see it.

Yeah.

Come on, you can do it.

Did you dip in my perfume? Fuck yeah.

Word has reached Xerxes that his high
priestess has failed in her mission to

prevent the four from breaching the
border of Persia.

His immortals have fallen before their
onslaught, and the royal guard decimated

by her failure to dissuade these women
from their path.

There is no choice.

The high priestess must pay for her
mistake.

She is unworthy of his court and shall
pay the ultimate price.

Find the high priestess and bring her to
me.

They have been taken care of.

She is forced to endure the debasing
lips of his god.

Instead,

the beautiful kiss that Xerxes conferred
on her with his sacred mouth.

As her dignity is stripped bare, she
sees the evil that has infused her

former god.

Once, his touch was balm to her soul.

To worship the body of her god brought
her pleasure beyond compare.

Now no conduit shall restore her faith.

No remnant of belief can sustain her
loyalty.

He who she loved beyond all reason is
now dead to her.

Her god and master no more.

my god

Thank you.

Yeah.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, yeah. Am I supposed to clean?

fucking bad for you oh yeah your face
looks so perfect in there

oh yeah you're so good my god

Yes, fucking fuck, fucking fuck. Hit his
fucking hole.

Yeah.

Oh, fuck.

Oh,

do you fucking like that?

Oh, yeah.

Let me see your heart.

Let me see your heart.

Oh, yeah.

Let me open that hole for you.

Oh, yeah, shoot it in there.

Shoot the cook inside.

Oh my god when you're gone.

Do you like that little asshole?

You better open it up.

Do you like that?

You fucking like that?

Tell me that you like to fuck my ass.

Oh, yeah, like that. Put

it fucking good deep inside the asshole.

Yeah, make it fucking open.

Oh, yeah

Fuck me like that.

Shoot a fucking cock in there like a
fucking gun.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, shit.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah. Oh, yeah.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, yeah. Let me shake my ass on you.

Yeah.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, yeah, just like that. Like that? Mm
-hmm.

Like that?

Oh,

yeah,

yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Oh,

yeah. Mm -hmm. Like that? Yeah.

Oh, yeah, just like that.

You want to come?

Mm -hmm. You want to come?

uh -huh

you

The E4 did not say what would bind these
four warriors to the 300.

It would be their slain and their blood
of Sparta that courses through their

veins.

The four march on with the ghosts of
their loved ones, the past and the

and learn as these spirits reveal their
lives and visions.

Spirits are bound to imbue them with the
wisdom they need to pick up the mantle

bequeathed unto them.

Both those that have shared their lives
and those that they have yet to meet

walk beside them on one path.

Salamis treads the path from Sasyana
directly from the west toward Persia.

The hands wash the babies of Michele and
Gorga.

as well as those of her own children and
the rest of the children of Sparta.

There were few Spartan warriors within
her lifetime that she'd not seen enter

the world, being caught by her own hands
as they left the sacred womb of their

mothers.

She feels the kindred spirits of all
mothers as she makes her way across the

cold sands of Persia.

The cries of the women and the children
as they burst into the world, taking

their first breaths.

She too mourns for the loss of her
beloved husband.

Her grief is multiplied by the sheer
numbers of lives lost in the past of

Thermopylae.

Many that she helped so recently break
into this world.

A noble death is cold comfort for the
mother that must bury a child.

She must fight on to keep all of Sparta
from knowing that pain.

The wind is like ice.

It bites at her.

The roaring fire she has brought to life
cannot touch the cold isolation of the

road she has traveled.

is this brave warrior that comes to me
in my hour of need and despair.

I do not know him.

Did I feel that I know him?

The blood of Sparta beats strong in his
veins, yet I do not know his face.

Once lost on the face of the
insurmountable obstacles that appeared

she drifted in a world of indecision and
confusion.

Thank you.

Should a healer be leaving behind those
that she has sworn to serve, to seek

vengeance against one that will soon be
unable to hurt those she protects?

But if she does not go forward on her
path, will Xerxes fall and leave Sparta

peace forever?

In the shelter of passion's embrace, the
healer accepts her own healing,

fortified by the strength of the
spirit's passion.

She picks up her spear, her shield, and
goes forth to embrace her destiny.

She sees the valor and the passion that
these four carry as the true vision of

faith.

To lay down one's own life in hopes of
saving an entire nation.

A more holy undertaking she's not seen
before.

With her eyes focused only on riches and
power of a more earthly variety.

She sees the evil in the vanity of her
betrayed nation that Xerxes' will is

as honorable as his ego will demand.

Her shadows run beside her as she walks
on to face the radiant purity of the

passion driving those that avenge their
beloved Spartans.

The four that seek the fall of her
former god.

is blindness to her love.

Her devotion has lifted the veil from
her own eyes.

No longer is Xerxes the master of her
faith, he's become the scourge of her

homeland.

By casting her alliance with Gorgo and
her warriors, she gives up her place in

the heart of Persia. Yet by her act of
selfless submission, she places the

spirits of all the Empire to rest.

One step closer, priestess, and you will
die where you stand.

I come to you with an offer.

I have heard your offer.

I come to you with a gift.

There's this life.

You would denounce your God?

I would denounce a man who is so blind
he could not see the love I had for him.

I'm listening.

There is a tunnel.

Do you know to me?

and only a few others that leads to
Xerxes' private chambers.

I will give you the way.

With a touch, all I know will be yours.

I am priestess with no god, no future,
and nothing to believe in!

Do you see?

I will be cursed forever.

All women should wear black from head to
toe.

Their skin never to see light of the
day.

Their faces covered because of me.

Gorga sees the strength that lies within
the sacrifice of the high priestess.

Her fall and her salvation laid bare for
Gorga's eyes alone.

By accepting the supplication of the
priestess, Gorga and her warriors will

prevail against all odds in liberating
her people from the snake Xerxes.

Her compassion overwhelms her doubts,
and she accepts the priestess as another

sister, risking all to liberate the
world from the clutches of the depraved

Xerxes.

Thank you so much.

um

I like it deep like that

Ogre was always fair and saw beyond the
truth that was before her.

If the prophecy should not come to pass
as she had seen, then it was unwise

to allow the youngest of her followers
to carry on in the mission to the

This one had much life left to give to
the heritage of Sparta.

The blood of Sparta must be returned.

To the homeland.

Carrying it.

Must be one of the four.

The fact that Gorgo.

Could not avoid.

I hope your journey is worth it.

We have so much to do. And so little
time.

Gather round me.

Today we take the life of a man. Who
took the lives of our loved ones.

fathers, husbands, and our queen.

Michele, Salomon, you stay with me.

Posea, you will watch Xerxes' death from
here.

But my queen!

You, Posea, have not had the gift of
children, the gift of a husband. I will

take that from you.

My queen, I cannot live here.

Someone must tell the story.

Someone must return to Sparta and tell
the Spartan women to revenge the death

their king.

This story cannot be lost.

Do you understand, Plutaeus?

You will be a good teller of the story.

Your first son will wear this in battle.

We must go.

Her survival to carry on the legacy of
the four, to return to Sparta and bring

forth children that would carry the
names of Gorgo, Salamis, and Michele

the future was imperative.

The only child of a soldier, both
cunning and incredibly skilled in war,

not be allowed the possibility of
sacrificing herself in battle, foretold

won by the shield, the bow, and the
spear.

There was a greater duty that Plataea
carried as she walked the lands of

back to Macedonia and our Spartan
homeland.

Alone in her mission to carry word back
to Sparta of the daring exploits of the

four, Plataea faltered as the memories
of her father overwhelmed her.

The feeling of inferiority at Gorgo's
words bristled.

It cut her to the quick that she had
been dismissed just as the most

part of their journey had reached its
shining peak.

Plataea's father had never run from a
battle.

He'd never shirked his duty to stand
beside his brothers in war.

And it was not her nature to do
otherwise.

She was truly the daughter of Sparta.

Her limbs as strong and capable as the
others.

Her passion to see the fall of the
Persian burned as hot in her breast as

others.

Someone must tell the story.

Someone must return to Sparta and tell
all the Spartan women.

Revenge their death of their king.

The story cannot be lost.

Do you understand?

To be a storyteller, to carry the words
instead of the head

of Xerxes back to Sparta was beneath her
honor.

She was born to return to Sparta on her
shield, if not victorious in battle,

with a shield.

Kotea. Kotea.

What's me?

Kotea, you need to tell us a story.

You will bring back to Sparta a son.

Kotea, you have not had the gift of
children.

The gift of a husband.

I will not give that one.

You will bring back your son.

My son.

And he will be king.

I feel so good.

Yeah.

Sometimes, bravery does not end with
battle. For some, the bravery begins

taking a different course, one that
leads to love and away from vengeance.

Sacrifice of Plataea is beyond the blade
of a sword, the path of a spear, or

even the arc of an arrow bathed in
Leonidas' blood.

Plataea must carry a much more important
gift to the people of Sparta than only

the story of how Xerxes fell at the
hands of the Spartan women.

That I said I would deliver wealth to my
people.

I have destroyed Athens and Sparta.

I have made kings and false gods kneel
before me.

That's not nearly for anyone.

Ha, a god that bleeds. Now kneel!

You will never leave Persia alive.

And neither will you!

amid the cold sands on the edge of
Persian soil.

My father took the innocent Plataea.

He poured his love into her willing
body, and by his blood a new hope for

Sparta was carried forth, the form of a
new life.

A new life.

that would be born into the gentle hands
of Salamis, just as so many warriors

before me had been brought into this
world.

Plataea would raise me in the ways of
the Spartans, to be bold and fearless in

battle, to never put my own place above
the freedom of those I commanded.

To give all the people of Sparta my
unwavering loyalty to act with resolute

conviction.

To invoke courage and incredible
endurance in myself and all that I lead.

To take pride in the accomplishments of
my people.

As Sparta grew to one of the most
advanced societies in the Mediterranean

To protect Sparta with all my heart and
give every ounce of my strength to the

proud heritage that was passed down to
me through Heracles, to Leonidas, to my

mother, Plataea.

To sacrifice myself when the greater
good is served best by my actions.

And to live my life To honor the valiant
heroes that put their lives before

all else.

From the passion and the belief in what
is right.

Right that drove forward those that fell
in the battles of the Marbalai.

To the four women who took the oath to
avenge those deaths.

By seeking the Aethon's magic to form
them into a formidable.

I wear Gorga's necklace at the battle.

And it brings me the strength of the
300.

Just as it bound her to them in her
journey.

I live my life just as my father,
Leonidas, lived

his life.

Spongebob. Spongebob.