Chapter 1: Reborn in Sparta

That bloody night when the dust finally settled and blood dried. I stood victorious among the fallen bodies. Gripping my spear and shield which had been used to vanquish my foes. I had surpassed the final test of the Spartan "agogé."

With a sigh of relief after the ordeal. I remembered how I came to be here. In my previous life. I was an ordinary person from the twenty-first century. The last thing I remembered was a blinding light and a pressure in my chest.

When I opened my eyes, I was sweating. Looking around, I found myself in a rudimentary room, far different from what I was used to. Next to me, a young woman watched me with tender eyes.

She took me in her arms, speaking in a language I didn't recognize, yet I understood her as if I had always spoken it. "My little warrior, Claus, I was worried after your accident." At that moment, memories flooded my mind, leaving behind my past life of modern comforts.

Now, I was a child in ancient Sparta, having just turned four years old. The young woman who embraced me, named Helena according to these new memories, was my mother in this life. I tried to recall a recent event to know the timeline.

Vaguely remembering the history and legends of this place, a city-state known for its brutality and unyielding military discipline, I realized my survival here would be anything but easy.

One notable event to anchor myself in time was when King Cleomenes I attempted to overthrow the nascent Athenian democracy, forming a coalition with Thebes and Chalcis. This placed me around 506 BC in the modern calendar.

Thus, I was born in 510 BC, during one of the most perilous eras with the looming Persian threat under Xerxes. The following years passed quickly, preparing me for the dangers ahead.

Even with knowledge of what was to come, I was still someone from the modern era. At seven years old, Spartan children were taken from their homes and sent to the "agogé," a rigorous training system that transformed boys into relentless warriors.

On that day I was taken from my mother Helena hugged me one last time before handing me over to the Spartan trainers. "Don't cry Claus. You are strong. You will survive and become a great warrior."

The days that followed were terrifying and exhausting. The trainers pushed us beyond our limits. We had to endure hunger, cold, and pain. I learned to fight with my hands and weapons, to hunt and steal to survive. Mercy was not a luxury we could afford.

One night, during a survival exercise, I found myself alone in the forest where the cold bit into my bones. I remembered stories of Spartans facing and overcoming unimaginable challenges. With fear clutching my chest, I decided to seek shelter.

I found a small cave. Once inside, my instincts, honed by my training, screamed at me, "Move!" I dodged to the right, narrowly avoiding an enormous bear. Immediately, I put all my training to the test, defeating the beast but sustaining serious injuries.

Emerging from the forest as a Spartan warrior, I left behind the child who had arrived and the young adult from the modern era I once was. Upon returning to the training grounds, only a few of us remained in the "agogé." The instructor gave an order, "Only those who survive the next test will become true hoplites. It will be a battle to the death. The last three standing will become Spartans."

Surviving the bloody battle with spear and shield, only the strongest and most skilled emerged. My destiny was clear: I would fight and die for Sparta, and my name would be remembered alongside the heroes of my new homeland.

King Cleomenes I and his son, Leonidas I, congratulated the three survivors. To my surprise, Leonidas resembled Gerard Butler. Not only had I reincarnated into the past, but I was also in the world of Zack Snyder's "300."

Leaving that thought process behind, life as a Spartan warrior left no room for complacency. Every day was a new test of endurance and skill. In my first campaign, I served under Artemis, a seasoned veteran of countless battles.

His gaze was stern, but his leadership inspired confidence. He taught me to fight in formation, to move as a single organism. War was utterly different from anything I had read, heard or seen in series—brutal and chaotic. Screams, blood, and the sound of clashing metal filled the air.

My movements were precise, my strength unwavering. My body grew stronger, and my combat skills improved. I fought with a ferocity that only Spartans could understand.

After the battle, as we rested by the fire, Artemis approached me. "Claus, you have the spirit of a true Spartan. One day, you might lead your own men." Those words ignited a flame in my heart.

During this time, I had come to love Sparta, so I had to improve not just for myself but for my land and nation as well. I continued participating in war campaigns, training harder than anyone else. Each day brought me closer to what would be known as the Battle of Thermopylae.

At one point, I caught the attention of Leonidas, who further taught me the art of war, leadership, and enhancing my skills with the spear. Tensions and rumors of a Persian invasion were rife in Sparta.

Then the emissary arrived, marking the beginning of the movie's plot, history, and my destiny. "If you value your lives over total annihilation, listen well, Leonidas. Xerxes conquers and controls everything he sees. He commands an army so vast it shakes the ground with its march. So vast it drinks the rivers dry," the emissary said.

"All the God-King Xerxes requires is this: a simple offering of earth and water. A token of Sparta's submission to Xerxes' will," the emissary concluded. I was following Leonidas as he listened to the emissary's foolish demands.

I watched as Leonidas stepped forward, thinking, but I knew his response. Eager to witness this iconic scene from the movie and history, I anticipated his reaction.

"Submission, well, that's a bit of a problem. See, rumor has it, the Athenians have already turned you down. And if those philosophers and boy-lovers have found that kind of nerve…" Leonidas responded.

"We must be diplomatic," said Theron. "And, of course, Spartans have their reputation to consider," Leonidas said, glaring at Theron before turning back to the emissary.

"Choose your next words carefully, Leonidas. They may be your last as king," the emissary warned. Anticipating what was coming, Leonidas looked at his people, his surroundings, his wife, and finally drew his sword against the emissary. "Madman, you're a madman," the emissary exclaimed.

Calmly, Leonidas said, "Earth and water. You'll find plenty of both down there." "No man, Persian or Greek threatens a messenger," the emissary stammered in fear.

"You bring the crowns and heads of conquered kings to my city's steps. You insult my queen. You threaten my people with slavery and death. Oh, I've chosen my words carefully, Persian. Perhaps you should have done the same."

"This is blasphemy. This is madness," the emissary said. "Madness? THIS IS SPARTA!!!" Leonidas shouted, kicking the emissary into the pit. Bringing to life one of the film's most memorable scenes.

That night in my quarters, reflecting on what had happened, I pondered what lay ahead.

Finally, I decided to rest. As I fell asleep, I felt my soul being lifted until I entered an unknown, foggy environment with a large round table at its center, revealing two other seated individuals. As I watched them with curiosity and concern, a voice echoed.