The Prophecy

Deep in the Mongolian desert there lay an ancient citadel, constructed by a civilization long dead, but whose art and science has not been matched in the history of man. Upon these ancient walls in the desert was carved a prophecy. The runes said that some day, when the earth was wracked with conflict and pestilence, the ancient gods would once again return to the earth to shape it to their liking and correct the foul errors of the human race. These gods would take the form of man, but to call them man would be like calling a dragon a simple housefly. Many would not recognize their coming, and even the men themselves whom the gods would soon enter would not know of their destiny until the light beaconed upon their fully-covered or somewhat balding heads, depending on their genetic background and stress levels. These men, upon exiting the womb of their mothers, were blessed with the greatest of destinies and their lives, like the gears of a giant clock, worked in unison to bring each together so that they would meet just before their assumption as mighty avatars of the ancient gods. Some would require the gregarious consumption of much fermented barley and grapes to achieve the worthiness of the gods. Others would have to vanquish many corporeal beasts while suffering the belittling of others who could not see their invisible foes. Yet others among these great men would be forced to suffer through the toil and embrassment that many in the ancient world called "the all-nighter." Whatever their toils, it was written that each of these men, after long preparation, would be worth to assume their roles as the greatest humans on earth.
If one brave enough ventured to the citadel in the desert, one would find that they had to cross eleven gateways upon approaching the citadel, and battle eleven beasts to acquire the eleven keys to unlock the eleven locks that sealed the mighty door of the castle. In each of the eleven towers of the citadel it is said that each ancient god sleeps, waiting for the moment when they awake and will assume their hosts and once again rule the earth.
The eleven men are gathered somewhere on the planet, waiting and preparing for the waking of their gods and their powers. Where they are, none can know, but it is certain that they are ready...ready for the greatest calling of any human in the history of the universe. Even greater than the calling of He-Man or Optimus Prime. These men would be called to hold dominion over the entire galaxy. Even time and the workings of the mind would not be foreign to their thoughts and influence. They are waiting, and the universe itself holds its breath in anticipation of the greatest event in the history of time and space, with obvious exception to the invention of the mini-corndog.