Original subtitles

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.