The war between the Aztecs and the allies was over. The Aztecs, crazed with dreams of ruling the planet, had come up against the steely resolve of the stronger, cleverer Greeks. And, most importantly of all, they'd come up against the Greek god.

The graves of the Aztec army covered the lands, but one band of survivors would not accept the defeat, the death of their nation. Over many months they built Totems. Shrines to the thousands of slain Aztec warriors. Then, slowly, they started pulling the bodies from the ground. They dragged them to the Totems and sacrificed them, chanting mindlessly to the skies. For a long time nothing happened. The survivors dug and pulled and dragged and hundreds of bodies went into the Totems. Yet nothing happened. As every believer knows, sacrifices must be living to bring forth a response.

Then the incredible happened. As more bodies piled into the Totems, without warning the sky split with a flash. The accumulated dead had been enough and a god had been summoned. Born of an army of the slain, this was no ordinary god. This was a god never seen before. For the first time in this world there was a god of the Undead. And the ground began to shake. This Aztec deity was raising an entire corpse army. Death was coming to the world on a massive scale.