The New Order. Sean Wolfe Fay

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      “Prepare for battle, men!” Leonidas yelled, pulling himself to his feet. “Man the defensive positions, and prepare yourselves! Stan and his guys are comin’ and we’re gonna make our last stand, right here, right now!” Leonidas whipped out his bow and brandished it above his head, flourishing it up and down as he led a round of cheers at the proclamation. He felt a knot in his gut as he realized that within the day, all five of these players would be dead and he would still be alive, fleeing the scene.

      Leonidas shook his head again. Don’t think, Leonidas told himself. Just defend. Just defend the base until they make their way in, and then ya can run. Leonidas climbed the ladder to the top floor of the base, which stood open to the sky and offered a gorgeous view of the setting sun.

      As Leonidas took his position atop the tower, arrow nocked into his bow, he did not allow himself to think, lest he convince himself to do something against his orders. No, instead he forced himself to repeat over and over in his head the creed that had become his entire life.

       Viva la Noctem, Viva la Noctem, Viva la Noctem, Viva la Noctem …