Hippolyta leaned back against the cold iron doors and sighed with
frustration…
Exhaustion…
Hopelessness.
She could still hear the whistle of the winds as the great doors sealed
once again behind her; dying down now, growing fainter with every
breath and beat of her breaking heart. She could feel the
tingle of the ancient magicks binding the mystic portal beyond once
again, closing the gateway to the other realms. The warmth of
the brazier still touched her skin, the ash and perspiration of her
duty to her daughter and her people as well as her gods yet tarnished
her person. It was like a mark, a brand that she knew no
amount of cleansing would ever fully remove.
Hippolyta sighed, steeling her courage and strength as she pushed away
from the heavy, banded doors. They would not open again
until… if Diana returned. And that of course was
the question, which wrinkled her brow and weighed heavily upon her
heart and soul. Had she lost her daughter once again.
Hippolyta’s mind was awhirl as she slowly strolled the long
dark corridor, slowly making her way back to the light and warmth of
her world beyond. Memories returned unbidden as her sandals
whispered across the ancient stone walkway stirring dust with every
step. She had lost her daughter before, after all, and those
rare feelings of despair had returned once again.
The day that Diana had left her for Man’s World was perhaps
the most crushing blow. Her daughter had used trickery and
guile to compete in the Great Games then in order to be the one to
defend against the schemes of Ares and to return the American Pilot
Steve Trevor back to his land. Worse, she had used
intelligence, and she had won, becoming the Wonder Woman, both hero and
ambassador of Themyscira in Patriarch’s World.
Hippolyta was furious of course, but not because she had been tricked,
and not because Diana had won- truth she had never been more
proud. No, Hippolyta had been furious because she knew that
her daughter had grown beyond her mother’s ability to
control. She had grown into a woman, and Hippolyta had lost
her.
As she had to the Man’s World, then to the so-called Justice
League…
Not that she could complain over that. A wisp of a smile
flickered across Hippolyta’s lips as she remembered her own
time as a hero among the hero’s of the world beyond
paradise. She remembered that short time when she had been
the Wonder Woman amidst the Justice Society of America. No,
she could not fault Diana for that experience, but then too there were
the Gods.
She had lost Diana to death itself at the hand of Neron, and then to
the very Gods of Olympus when her daughter had been resurrected as one
of their own pantheon. Diana had become the Goddess of Truth
for a time; a short time admittedly, but it was enough. It
was only Diana’s own independence that had brought her home,
to Earth at least. But back to Patriarch’s World,
and back to the League and life she so loved.
And now she was gone again. Gone to the Realm of the Gods to
undertake whatever tasks necessary to restore her Golden Lasso of
Truth, that gift of Hestia and forged of the Girdle of Gaea, which was
broken in the negative dimension between worlds, ripped asunder by
those forces of Creation itself. Hippolyta had faith in her
daughter of course. Faith that she would triumph at whatever
tasks the Gods might put before her, but she did not trust fully those
gods to comply in all honesty. She knew that Diana would need
all of her skill and wit to win out and hopefully, eventually return.
Hippolyta sighed again as she reached the end of the walk, pausing to
feel the warmth of the sun on her skin again, to smell the sweetness of
the air not laced with the dust of the ages and the foul odors of
brimstone. She could hear once again the crystalline echoes
of life; the birds singing joyfully in skies pristine blue, the faint
babble of water from the nearby springs, the happy laughter of her
people, her children and sisters all; the Amazons.
She cast her gaze out over the Great Square, the daily market bustling
with the wares of those that tended the outer crops and fields,
providing food for any who so desired, trading in turn for materials of
wear and cloth bedding made by seamstresses, or books transcribed again
and again, or simple artifacts both utilitarian or beatific, whatever
one might desire. There was no need in Paradise after
all. There was no want. There was only life.
“My Queen?”
Hippolyta turned only slightly startled at the soft voice off to her
right. Udora stood there dressed in her warrior’s
raiment; the ancient armor modeled from the earlier Greco-Roman with
crested helm and detailed breast plate, bracers and guards and bearing
shield, sword and spear. She was mirrored by Tenelia on the
left save for the hue of skin and hair, with a bow replacing her long
sword and a quiver on her hip where a scabbard might have
hung. Both Amazons wore questioning looks; the fate of the
Princess, the mood of the Queen, what next, though neither asked,
knowing their duty as Guardians of the Walk.
“Seal the gates, Udora,” Hippolyta said, both
casually and commanding, “and stay alert for any sign from
within. The ways of certain Gods are as fickle as their
realm, and the Princess may be gone an eternity, or a
heartbeat.”
“As you say, oh Queen.”
Boom…
Hippolyta shivered only slightly to the sound of the closing
gates. Trying to appear unperturbed, she gathered her flowing
gossamer robes about her slim arms and began the long descent
gracefully down from the temple. Still her gown trailed
behind, wiping away the dust that had gathered from the long walk, left
in wake by her soft steps. The white marble shone brightly in
the morning sun, sparkling even in places as her shadow drifted along
the grand stair. Vanishing…
Hippolyta glanced skyward as dark clouds seemed to be forming, almost
directly over the city. She held her hand to her brow to
shield against the flickering light as the darkness roiled, gathering
swiftly in both thickness and impending fury.
“A storm?” Hippolyta asked herself. There
were storms of course, rain was essential to all life, everywhere, yet
this was Paradise and there was rarely a freak storm that did not
portend catastrophe. It was only recently that the Barrier
Guardians had reported the devastating storms beyond the mystical
boundaries of Paradise Island. Great rips had appeared at the
fringe, just beyond, and Hippolyta had authorized a band of warriors
and scientists to go beyond the veil to investigate. They had
returned with fear in their voices and eyes, reporting pink skies and
vicious storms, ocean tides that had seemingly reversed and a great
maelstrom beyond that seemed to be swallowing the sea. And
just as suddenly it had ceased.
Diana had explained what had happened. She had told of her
League’s journeys to other dimensions, their clash with great
villains and even greater heroes, and the devastation that had
enveloped all as matter met anti-matter. She had said that it
was over, but had she been wrong? Was this some strange
aftermath of that cosmic catastrophe? And why would it appear
here, now, so soon after the Princess’ departure?
Was it all connected?
“Hippolyta!”
The Queen of the Amazons turned her attention back to earth and saw
Pythia bounding up the steps two and three at a time. The
silver-haired philosopher seemed harried and almost out of breath, her
eyes wide as she divided her attention between her course, her queen
and the darkening skies. She paused finally, breasts heaving
as she glanced skyward before remembering her place and started to bow
slightly, dipping her head.
“Peace, Pythia,” Hippolyta said, urging her old
friend to stand tall. “Speak. You have
some news concerning that?” Hippolyta said pointing towards
the darkening clouds.
“No… my Queen,” Pythia said licking her
lips as she tried to regain some composure after her mad dash up the
long stairway. She brushed her long hair, matted with sweat
from her eyes as she looked skyward.
“It’s about the Princess, or more, her new ward,
Cassandra Sandsmark. She…”
BOOOOOOOMMMM!!!
Whatever Pythia had been about to say was lost as the sky seemed to
explode with a crack of thunder far louder than any that had ever split
the peace of Themyscira before. All eyes turned skyward to
see the great gaping hole that had appeared above the capitol
city. Energy flashed, crackling about the almost perfect
circle, which was wide and extending out into reality like some
cylindrical tube. And more…
Shadows flitted within the sparkling darkness. There was
movement, like a great sea of maggots squirming in nightmare, devouring
and desiccating some fallen shadowy beast of legend, growing and
spreading, moving forward.
Hippolyta gasped to see the first. It lighted on the edge of
the crackling tube, its huge, bug-like eyes scanning a new world, a new
feast as it smirked, licking chafed lips and showing rotted teeth,
hunkering. It wore armor of tarnished gold, moldy and green
in places, black in others, head to toe. Hippolyta saw too
the thin, filmy wings beating madly as it nodded and took to the air,
shooting out of the tube. And there were others in its wake;
dozens, soon hundreds of the scrawny little bug-like men. And
more…
Soldiers afoot poured forth, dropping to the ground, weapons screaming
with some bizarre and alien technology. They were armored
too, but less so and in leather. And there were
more…
There were women, unique compared to the others dressed individually
and of obvious stature; a skinny, yellow-skinned creature with green
hair cackling obscenities, a tall warrior clad in black leather and
wielding straps whip-like, a white-skinned woman that flew out and into
the square, her hair trailing like blood. More…
An older woman stepped to the fore. She was huge, fat and
muscular and dressed in gaudy chain mail, a deep blue cloak fluttering
in the winds. Her skin was wrinkled, her hair cropped short
and gray, but her eyes belayed an intelligence and a cruelty that her
bizarre image only touched on. Her head turned as she scanned
Themyscira, a smile twisting her painted lips as she raised a strange,
glowing rod above the sudden violence. Hippolyta stared and
the old woman’s eyes locked with her own as she pointed with
that rod.
“There…” Hippolyta heard the woman say,
and a swarm of the bug men spewed forth from the tube, flying at
her. Hippolyta turned to Pythia.
“Go! Rally the sisters! Tell Phillipus we
are at war! Invasion!”
Pythia screamed as the Bug Men swarmed and swirled, fighting her way
down the steps and away while Hippolyta raised her arms, ready to
fight. Ready to defend her home.
Archon
Phillipus charged from her chambers and out onto the high balcony of
the Warrior’s Temple. Tall, stone statues carved of
the finest white marble lined the plaza below, flanking the Grand Walk
that led to the steep sweeping staircase of the palace. As
always the trees in the plaza below were full and green and
lush. The great fountains depicting Nymphs and lesser Gods of
the water bubbled and churned with sparkling, clear water.
The lanes and paths of the plaza were filled as well, as was usually
the case, but now Phillipus saw that the usually serene scene was
rather one of near panic.
The dark-skinned General of the Imperial Guard turned her gaze
skywards, towards the crackling lights and shifting shadows of clouds,
peering into the glare of the sun and letting a slight gasp escape her
lips. The skies over Themyscira were swarming with stunted,
bug-like warriors brandishing weapons, all spewing from some great
shaft seemingly hanging in mid-air over the Temple of the
Gods. Too, there were lesser warriors, more man-like soldiers
teeming from the tube and dropping to the ground, striking out at any
and all in their way. It was a scene of chaos and war!
“Phillipus!” the Archon turned only slightly at the
sound of the voice behind her. She saw Meri hurrying towards
the balcony from their chambers, barely holding the thin shift about
her, her red hair flying wild behind. “What is
it? I heard the alarm. The
bells…”
“We are invaded, Meri. Get dressed,”
Phillipus commanded, watching the skies and scanning the plaza for any
sign of the queen. “We must defend
Themyscira!”
“Great Hera!” Meri gasped as she stepped up beside
the other and stared wide-eyed at the pandemonium.
“Who are they?”
“They’re the enemy, Meri!” Phillipus
snapped, looking to her other. “That is
all-“
Energy crackled past, searing the air and blasting away at the ancient
stone of the balcony. Phillipus barely leapt back in time as
three of the bugs whipped past, swinging swords and lances that sparked
with some foul electricity. Quickly though she recovered,
finding her footing and reaching out to grab one of the flying men as
he shot past, her fingers digging into the grooves of his
boot. The bug flurried to the side, but his momentum still
ripped her from the relative safety of her perch.
“Phillipus!”
The Archon cast a glance up to see Meri leaning out over the
balcony’s rail, reaching uselessly. She turned,
ignoring the red-haired beauty as she pulled and tugged on the
creature’s leg, her additional weight slowing his flight and
dragging him down. Phillipus clutched at the
invader’s midsection and twisted, getting his bulk under her
fit body, then started hammering at the fleshy lower part of his face
that his helmet did not protect. He screamed obscenities in
some strange, buzzing language as they slammed to the stone walk of the
plaza below.
After a moment Phillipus stood, shaking her head and trying to
see. Everywhere battles raged; mass attacks and singular
fights as the initial shock wore off and the Amazons rose up to defend
their home. A quick scrutiny of the vast plaza showed far
more invaders dead or wounded on the ground than Amazons.
Good.
Phillipus bent low and scooped up the bug man’s strange
lance, then quickly charged into the fray, seeking a target.
Four strides and she found one.
The woman was blonde and attractive and dressed in an unusual armor
that barely seemed functional, rather exploiting her impressive
endowments. There were two Amazons dead behind her, at her
feet and another knelt before her clutching her throat with blood
drooling through her fingers. The woman’s hands
were red and she smiled as she looked up to see Phillipus, Her big blue
eyes sparkling with some lustful desire as she smiled cruelly.
“Good!” the woman laughed.
“Keep coming! Gilotina will strike you all down
with slashing hands!”
Phillipus stepped back, assuming a defensive stance as she spun her
newfound lance in hand. She eyed the woman, seeing the desire
in her eye, the madness and lust for pain and death.
“Who are you to invade Paradise?” she asked, buying
time as she scanned the battle beyond. The bug men and foot
soldiers were numerous, but apparently little match for the Amazonian
Warriors. There were other women in the ranks of the invaders
however, and they were taking toll.
Phillipus saw a woman with a bow commanding gargantuan wolf-like
creatures. Her arrows struck down as many as her pack seemed
to ravage.
She saw an orangish blur speeding through the battlefield, and where it
past blood flowed freely and Amazons fell. A speedster then.
There was a red-haired woman flying amidst a swarm of bats, her skin
white as alabaster and dressed in black and scarlet. Her eyes
blazed as she swept through the combatants, her arms sweeping out,
claws raking. Vampyr!
“Ahh!”
Phillipus stepped back, her lance spinning and cracking on the
woman’s arm as she withdrew, too late. The warrior,
Gilotina laughed as she clutched her arm, but Phillipus felt the warmth
of drawn blood flowing from her arm as well. The woman raised
her hands, grinning.
“You’re fast. Good. I like a
challenge.”
“And you’ve found one!”
Phillipus lunged, the staff whipping about her head as she used her
momentum to add to the force of the blow. Gilotina stepped to
the fore, her arm slashing out as her hand sliced cleanly through the
lance, energy spewing forth in a fountain. Phillipus spun,
spinning in turn the two halves of the stave, turning the staff into
battle rods as she struck in passing; a blow to the woman’s
back and another glancing to her thigh. To her credit,
Gilotina did not cry out, though Phillipus saw her step lightly as she
spun about to follow her.
“Good,” the blonde said trailing her fingers across
the bruise on her thigh. “You’re
good. Thank you Dark Lord for providing me entertainment and
challenge for your glory!”
“Dark lord?” Phillipus said as the woman screamed,
rushing forward, her arms and hands a flurry of motion cutting and
slicing, slashing without abandon. It was all that the Archon
could do to block the blows with her staves as the woman’s
assault drove her backwards. Gilotina’s eyes were
wild throughout, her scream of assault becoming laughter as she drove
forward. Phillipus hissed as the woman got a few blows
through her guard, Gilotina’s hands slicing through her skin
with ease, deadly weapons in themselves.
“Surrender to the glory of Darkseid!” the woman
shouted, and at last Phillipus understood. Even on Themyscira
they had heard of the evils of Darkseid, the stone-faced overlord and
despot of the world Apokolips. He was a God in his own right,
his own pantheon descended from some elder race of Gods that had passed
eons ago. His deviltry was well known, but what could he want
with Themyscira?
“Yaaahhh!”
The woman lunged and Phillipus stepped to the side bringing one stave
smashing across her head, the other slamming into her back.
Gilotina fell to the stone walk, sprawling. She shook her
head as she pressed up, trying to rise. She was strong.
Pain!
Phillipus dropped to her knees as something thick and heavy slammed
into her back. Darkness swirled in her sight as she tried to
focus and gain her feet again. She looked back, arm raised in
defense and a thick leg and boot smashed into her hand, kicking the
stave away.
“Mine, Stompa!” Gilotina shouted, scrambling to her
feet. “My kill!”
“Darkseid wants slaves, Granny says, not
bodies.” The big woman towered over Phillipus,
watching as she struggled to rise and raise her weapon. Her
left arm was numb and useless, hanging at her side.
“No more killing.”
The stocky woman reared a leg back and Phillipus saw the massive boots
that she wore. She was dressed in leathers, brown and orange
with a helmet and goggles. Her face was uncovered though, and
Phillipus saw her smile as her foot lashed out again,
kicking. And everything went black.
Mala ran through the carnage and chaos, her sword lashing out with
every step and in every direction. Soldiers fell in her
passing, and the bug men fell from the sky at her slashing
steel. And still Mala ran, ignoring those that fell, leaping
over fallen sisters and even the wounded. It pained
her. She wanted to stop, to help them all, but there were so
many, and she had her duty.
How had it come to this? If only they had attacked just
moments before, when Diana had still been on the island. How
had they known? Or, was it the opening of the ways that had
triggered their assault and let them find the hidden isle?
It didn’t matter. They were here. Mala
lashed out, screaming her fury and another bug dropped from the sky.
“Sister!”
Mala turned and saw Euboea fending against a swarm of the armored,
flying invaders. Mala charged forward without thought,
hacking and slashing at the creatures, her back against
Euboea’s as the defended, cutting down the invaders in a
furious flurry of slashing steel. As the last fell to the
gravel walk, Mala grabbed her sister’s arm and dragged her
into the shadows of a walkway.
“What is happening?” Mala asked as she pressed
against the wall, her breasts heaving against the thin material of her
gown. Here eyes were wide as she stared into the plaza,
watching as the invaders rolled forward, her sisters falling.
Those that lived she saw were leashed and bound, quickly shackled.
“Paradise falls,” Euboea said, her eyes cold as she
watched the horrors beyond. Mala could feel the warmth and
security of her sister standing so close at her side. She
watched as the taller, darker woman licked her lips, rolling her sword
in her grip. “We must find the queen.
Rally! We must stand proud.”
“But the invaders are innumerable. For every one we
defeat another springs from that damnable tube. How can we
hold back the tide?”
“We must try, Mala,” Euboea said, glancing at the
shorter Amazon and smiling. “We must try.”
“Help me…” Both women turned
at the sound of the soft, hurt voice.
There was a girl at the back of the alleyway, a child. She
looked young and frightened with her long brown hair in
disarray. She seemed to be crying.
“Oh,” Mala moaned stepping forward obviously
touched by the scene. “You poor child.”
“Mala! Wait!”
Euboea shouted her warning too late as Mala turned right in front of
the girl, her face stricken with curiosity. Euboea had seen
what Mala had not. There were no children on
Themyscira. The child had to have come with the invaders.
The dark corners of the alley seemed to swirl even as Euboea dashed
forward. The shadows coalesced; massing and taking shape even
as the child’s face turned to watch, a gleeful, evil smile
belaying her apparent innocence. Even as Mal turned, the girl
grabbed her wrist holding tightly and the shadows flowed
forward. Euboea saw a face etched into the darkness; glaring
lavender eyes and a wide, malicious grin filled with sharp, jagged
teeth.
“Mala!” Euboea shouted even as her Amazon sister
started to scream, even as the shadow monster swept over her lithe
frame completely enveloping her. Euboea was a warrior
however, and shrugged away the sudden chill that twisted her spine,
charging forward with sword in hand to attack and help her friend.
“Die, shadow spawn!” she shouted lunging, sinking
her short blade into the darkness. She screamed as the sword
froze instantly in her hand, the searing cold burning her skin and
freezing the hilt to her flesh. Tears welled in her eyes as
she staggered back, ripping her flesh from the blade and the shadow
thing simply howled with laughter, swallowing the sword within.
Euboea stumbled back into something, her sight graying as blood flowed
from her ravaged hand. She tried to turn. She
needed help; a healer and warriors to fight that thing that had
swallowed Mala. Something snagged in her hair, jerking and
pulling her off her feet to fall onto the hard cobbles of the
alleyway. Euboea looked up into the wide blue eyes of the
little girl.
“Big-tittied cow,” the little girl sneered as she
raised her hand back and away. “Remember that it
was Malice Vunderbarr that beat you if you wake up again.”
Euboea felt something shatter in her arm as she tried to block the
first blow. The second brought sweet oblivion.
Hippolyta finally reached the bottom of the stairs. Behind
her lay the bodies of the little bug men, the leather-clad soldiers and
far too many of her sister Amazons. She tried to ignore the
latter, struggling on.
She stepped over Clio, her black hair smoldering from the blast she had
taken from one of the flying men. Her eyes were wide and
vacant, the steps around her pooling with her blood.
Hippolyta said a silent prayer as she raised the lance she had stolen
from one of the fallen invaders, slashing at another and driving him
from the sky. She leapt forward.
Whipping the pole about and back again she drove two of the soldiers to
their knees, Warrior Jolene beheading one even as she skewered the
second. She nodded, driving on.
She slammed the lance into the back of a soldier, shattering his spine,
ignoring his cries as she drove her heel into his neck to silence him
permanently. She skewered another bug in mid-air, using his
momentum to send him crashing into another, killing both with the
deadly crash. An arrow slashed through her robes and she
yelped in sudden pain, saw the blood blossoming in the lavender silken
gown. She gritted her teeth, pressing on and trying to ignore
the pain.
Belene the farmer from the Eastern Province fell to the blood-spattered
stone at her feet. She was writhing in shock, rolling about
as she clutched at a strange dart-like thing jutting from her
chest. Hippolyta started to bend, to help, then saw the
shadow of a new foe before her.
It was a woman, or so she appeared, rail thin and short, her raven hair
cropped and slicked back with grease, a coolly wicked grin twisting her
thin lips and making her even uglier to the eye. She stared
daggers at Hippolyta, as though sizing her up and unimpressed with what
she saw. She was one of the women that led the invasion, one
of the true warriors. Hippolyta would have answers.
“Who are you?” she asked as she stepped forward,
and the woman raised a strange gun. “What do you
want? Why are you invading Themyscira?”
Hippolyta whirled the pole about. It had been years since she
had played at bullets and bracelets, but she was ready. The
woman smirked.
“My name is Bernadeth, if that makes you feel better little
queen. Sister of Desaad and leader of the female Furies, the
shock troops of Granny Goodness and Lord Darkseid himself. It
is for his glory that we take your precious Themyscira.”
“Darkseid…” Hippolyta
whispered. She knew the name. But why? He
had never shown any interest in the Amazons before.
Hippolyta screamed as something wrapped tightly about her throat,
cutting off her air and burning, chaffing. There was a quick
yank and she staggered back, falling to the paving. Her hands
went to her throat, losing the shaft and clawing at the coarse strap
that was strangling her. Another wrapped about her wrists,
binding them tightly as she struggled. The toe of a boot
slammed into her side.
“As always, Bernadeth, you babble when you should
battle.” Hippolyta looked up to the woman, clad
head to toe in skin-tight black leather. She was beautiful in
her own right, though her body seemed almost bound within the layers of
belts and straps wrapped about her form. She saw
Hippolyta’s scrutiny and jerked on the leash-like band about
the queen’s throat making her gasp and gag.
“This is Darkseid’s prize. The capture is
mine. Granny will be pleased.”
“You presume much, Lashina,” the other said,
stepping forward to plant a high-booted foot in Hippolyta’s
chest, pressing her down. “if not for my
distraction you would not have beaten this fierce warrior.
The victory is mine.”
“In your dreams, bitch!”
“Now, now, dearies!”
Hippolyta’s eyes went wide as a third woman- though that was
questionable- leapt amidst the other two as though to keep them
apart. Her skin was gaunt on her skeletal frame, and yellow,
and her green hair seemed almost straw-like and wild on her head,
framing her painted, leering face. Her voice was shrill and
on the verge of laughter with every syllable she uttered.
“Now isn’t the time or the place for this old
song. Granny comes. Play nice.”
Hippolyta looked up to see the stocky, prune-faced woman descending the
long stairs. There was another at her side, tall and
handsome, clad in green armor and gifted with a magnificent mane of red
hair. Hippolyta noticed the collar about that one’s
throat even as the older woman paused and took in the queen of the
Amazons bound at her feet. She glanced at the yellow-skinned
scarecrow.
“Stand down, Mad Harriet,” she said with a twisted
frown, sniffing. “You offend.”
The mad woman cackled, but backed away to the fringe of the group as
the old woman scanned the plaza. It was death and carnage as
far as Hippolyta could see. Smoke rolled skyward, the market
in shattered shambles and flames. She could hear the moans of
the wounded, smell the odors of offal and burning flesh.
“It is good. Darkseid will be pleased with our
success, won’t he my pretties?”
“Yes, Granny,” the others said in unison.
All but the one collared. The one called Granny glared at the
taller woman.
“Problem, child?”
“This- this is wrong,” the red headed woman said,
immediately regretting it as the old woman rammed a rod into her
breast. Energy crackled and made the woman drop to her knees
in agony.
“You WILL remember your place Knockout. Granny
promises…”
“Leave her be, Granny Goodness.”
Hippolyta felt the sudden chill, sensed the shift in the shadows as she
glanced up to see the dark visage of the stone-faced lord descending
the stair. His eyes were ablaze with fire and cold all at
once, his step and stance sure and overbearing, his face a masque of
triumph and despair. Hippolyta knew who he was instantly,
though she had never laid eyes on him before. The Lord of
Apokolips, the eld god, Darkseid!
“As I have said,” he continued, stepping down the
stairs, “it is good that there is question occasionally,
dissention. It helps keep you alert and humble.”
“Of course Great Lord!” the old lady said, dropping
to a knee as did her Furies- all save one. The Dark Lord
smiled at the one called Knockout.
“There is of course a certain amount of obedience that I do
demand, child.” Darkseid reached out and grabbed
the red haired woman’s breast, squeezing and twisting until
she knelt at his feet. He then turned to Hippolyta.
“You are the leader of these women, this
land?” Hippolyta hawked and spat on his
boots. Darkseid chuckled.
“Of course you are. Now you work for me.
In another land, another time the mere binding of your wrists would
make you submissive and subservient to me. I am glad for the
challenge”
Hippolyta stared as the creature that was Darkseid produced a small
crystalline cube form the folds of his clothes and held it
out. She could see the energy within the fragile shell,
spiraling and crackling, spewing with a fire that she had never seen
before. It was beautiful and chilling all at once.
And more, there was a shadow behind him…
BOOOOMMMM!!!
All
eyes turned skyward as another of the portals opened, a tube jutting
from space. Hippolyta stared, her eyes tearing as she tried
to peer into the glare of energy. She saw shadows flitting
within, growing distinct, and coming closer.
A man flew out dressed in red armor and a silver helm, riding a strange
machine that seemed to mold and swell with his movements. He
seemed proud, a warrior as he swept up and out, circling the battered
plaza before swooping back towards the unconcerned form of Darkseid.
And right behind there was another, flying, riding the wind.
He was that one man that Diana had spoken so highly of so many times
before. He was the warrior and paragon, the true defender of
the Earth, dressed in blue and red, his cape flapping behind as he
swept up, up and away at speeds faster than a speeding
bullet. His golden shield sparkled on his chest as he turned
catching the sun…
“Orion…” Darkseid said unconcerned,
“and Kal-El. It has been so long, last son of
Krypton.”
“Release the Amazons, Darkseid. It’s
over,” the Superman said.
Darkseid laughed. “Fool. It’s
barely begun.”
“Stand down now, father, or feel my wrath!” the
other- Orion shouted. Hippolyta licked her lips, struggling
to free herself from her bonds before…
“Bring it whelp!” Darkseid shouted.
“I killed you once, and I shall again.”
Hippolyta screamed as light exploded about her…
To
be continued...
Next Issue-The story
continues in
DARK GENESIS #1 as Superman and Orion of the New Gods take on Darkseid
with the fate of the Amazons, and the very Universe in
question. Meanwhile, after Dark Genesis, return here to learn
the Fate of Wonder Woman and her Quest for the Golden Lasso
as 'Regaining Glory' continues, by Matt Hrubey!
