Post by David on Oct 6, 2015 13:48:29 GMT -5
Ten years later...
A dark-skinned man in a turban knocked on the door of Jason Blood’s apartment. “Hello? Jason? It is Randu. Let me in, man, it is urgent!” Randu Singh, U.N. delegate from the small sub-continental nation of Chandrapore and Blood’s longtime friend and associate in arcane matters, was very worried. He had been awakened in the dead of night by a feeling of dread such as he had never known. He sensed his friend was in great danger.
“Damn it, Jason, open the bloody door!”
When no answer was forthcoming, Randu reached into a pocket of his knee-length embroidered kurta and pulled out the spare key he’d been given, and let himself in.
The apartment was empty and dark, but for a small fire burning out of control in Jason’s sitting room.
Randu rushed in, snatching down the heavy drapes over the window and beat the fire repeatedly, smothering it. He let fall the smoking drapery, and looked at what had been burning: the prize of Jason’s occult collection, Merlin’s own grimoire, The Eternity Book. Only… the book seemed untouched, even though the table it sat upon was charred and blackened.
Randu reached out a tentative hand to examine it but as he did, the glass of the apartment window shattered inward and a winged figure burst into the room. Randu Singh threw up an arm to cover his face from the flying shards, though he was cut in a dozen places. He stumbled backward, away from the sudden new arrival, with a startled cry.
“Where is the Wonder Woman?”
The voice was beautiful, a balm to Randu’s ears, like a lovely melody. But the demanding tone was harsh, unsettling. He lowered his arm to get a better look.
A bright light came from the winged man, so much so that Randu had to continue shielding his eyes. He got the impression of haughty human features and intricate golden armor.
“Son of Adam, tell me, where is Diana of Themyscira?”
“I don’t know,” Randu had to shout to be heard. There was an unnatural wind blowing in throw the broken window, and there was a kind of chiming, like the echo of a rung bell, in the air.
There was a brighter flash of light. Now, the golden, winged man held something in his hand, something that burned with a fire of its own. Was it a sword?
“Who are you?” Stammered Randu, his robes fluttering about him as he shrank away from the terrible figure.
“I am the Sword of the Lord God, the Horn of the Ram, and archangel of the Fifth Host,” the voice was still musical, but the tone was discordant, terrifying. “I am Asmodel.”
The name was a word of power and once spoken, it burst Randu’s ear drums. He screamed, covering his ears with his hands, blood gushing through them. But the pain did not last long. In the next instant, the flaming sword of Asmodel flashed and Randu Singh’s head sailed from his body.
Screams of panic rose from the National Mall. Tourists who would normally be enjoying the serenity of the Reflecting Pool or visiting the many memorials or monuments of Washington, D.C. stampeded for cover. Steve Trevor, on the ground amidst the crowds, tried to keep the riot from getting out of control, but he and his armored peacekeepers were swept aside in the tide of humanity.
The ground shook. A hundred-foot woman stomped onto the Mall, clad in leopard print and rage. In one had she clenched the crushed remains of an eighteen wheel oil truck, as the other waved off a black Checkmate helicopter.
"UH-90, this is White King, disengage Giganta! Repeat, disengage Giganta," Steve yelled into the comm on the lapel of his jacket. "Get out of there Tom before she kills you and your crew!"
The helicopter peeled away. Gnashing her teeth, Giganta wound up and dashed the tanker into the ground. The resulting fireball knocked her back, stunning her momentarily.
A fleeing woman careened into Steve, almost knocking them both over. He steadied her, but the woman was gripped by fear. "She's insane! She'll kill us all! God help us!"
Something caught Steve's eye, and he smiled. "Will an angel do?"
Wonder Woman flew from out of the sun, out of Giganta's blind spot, and hit the gargantuan woman like a missile. The impact sent Giganta tumbling backward. She would have toppled onto the Lincoln Memorial, but Wonder Woman circled around her and re-directed the angle of her fall. Giganta staggered to her knees, shaking her head.
"Doris, listen to me," Wonder Woman hovered by the giantess' head, calling to her in a clear voice. "You are Dr. Doris Zeul, executive director of the Wonder Women Foundation. I am your friend, Diana! You haven't been Giganta in years. Come back to yourself. Doris--- Ooof!"
One mighty arm swept her out of the sky, and sent her splashing into the Reflecting Pool. Giganta gave a mindless roar and trampled the ground after her.
"Not Doris! Kill Wonder Woman!"
Steve was close enough that he waded into the pool and helped to pull a dazed Wonder Woman to her feet.
"I don't think you're getting though to her, Diana."
Her hair plastered to her face, Wonder Woman gave him an annoyed look. "I can see that, Steve, thank you." She said, uncoiling the gleaming lasso at her hip. "Now get back while I finish this."
Steve Trevor, USAF, ret., and White King of Checkmate watched as Wonder Woman rose into the air again, dripping, whirling a loop of her lasso. Giganta charged into the Reflecting Pool, swiping out with two enormous arms. Wonder Woman banked and flew out of her reach, and with an expert toss of the lasso, caught Giganta around one wrist. Giganta tried to pull her arm away, but Wonder Woman pulled back and was stronger. She yanked the once-reformed villain off balance, and sent her sprawling into the Pool.
"You are Dr. Doris Zeul!" Wonder Woman asserted, holding tight to the lasso as Giganta thrashed, spraying water everywhere, trying to get to get back up. "You are the executive director of the Wonder Women Foundation! You help people! You do good in the world! This is not you anymore! I am your friend, Diana! You are Dr. Doris Zeul..."
The mantra, repeated over and over, with the two of them connected by the Lasso of Truth, had the desired effect. Giganta's form spasmed and contracted, shrinking rapidly down to the size of a normal woman. Wonder Woman dropped the lasso and took her friend into her arms, holding her as Doris Zeul returned to her senses.
"Diana, I couldn't help it," she drew a heaving breath, her arms around Wonder Woman's shoulders. "I couldn't seem to control my thoughts... I just wanted to lose control, to wreak havoc... Please tell me no one was hurt..."
Ten years ago Wonder Woman had seen something special in Doris Zeul, a brilliant, if erratic, scientist who had often straddled questionable moral lines, and had asked her to lead a new initiative to bring peace and truth to a world consumed by violence and lies. The costumed adventurer who once called herself Giganta, a sometime member of the dubious Monster League of America, took the job and never looked back. Until today.
And it threatened to break her. She sobbed, clinging to Wonder Woman, afraid to let go. Diana held her friend, whispering soothingly to her, "Shhh, Doris. It's all right, no one was injured. We'll get you help, I promise..."
They were still like that when Steve draped his coat over Zeul's trembling shoulders. Diana looked up at him, grateful, but her attention was caught by an odd sight.
Storm clouds rolled overhead across the heavens, thick and ominous, in what had been an otherwise clear day. Stranger still, the blue of the sky was tinged with red, as if at sunset, though it was not yet noon, and little snakes of lightning slithered between the clouds. Thunder rumbled.
"I don't like the look of that," Steve muttered, following her gaze.
"Nor do I," said Diana, rocking the crying woman in her arms. "Nor do I."
Steve worked late into the night. Castle White stood not far off the Mall, and Steve's top floor office gave him a panoramic view of Washington, D.C. lit up even at this hour. But he had no time for the spectacular sight now, for the world seemed to be going off the rails. Multiple VR displays glowed above his desks, showing him various hotspots around the world. Every major city seemed to be in turmoil.
"White King, surely you must see that this is intolerable?"
The holographic VR feed from London showed the 3D image of a dark-haired man with intense eyes and thick mutton chop whiskers; the scrawl beneath him read: Black King, Wordenshire, UK.
"Cyril is right, Steve. We need a better response to this catastrophe." This in heavily-accented English from the woman with long iron-gray hair, her legend proclaiming her to be Red Queen, Moscow, Russia.
"I know. I'm working on it." A frown creased Trevor's handsome face. "Valentina, has Leonid checked-in from Atomic City? If those nukes are not secured we're going to have bigger problems on our hands."
"Nyet," the Red Queen looked concerned. "My Rook has never failed me, but the situation is unpredictable. There are reports of multiple meltdowns coming in. Unconfirmed, but troubling."
Steve bit back a profanity. As the unofficial first among equals of the Royal Court of Checkmate, he had to project calm and confidence. Besides, Vostok was right: nobody was better able to handle the situation in Russia than Leonid Kovar, the atomic-powered hero once known as Red Star.
"Recommend Castling Maneuver Two-B," Steve multi-tasked, pulling up a sit-rep from a team he conveniently had already deployed to the area; it was led by Gardner Grayle, his very own Atomic Knight. Perfect. "Diverting White King's Knight to back-up Red Queen's Rook. He should be on-site within the hour. Cyril," Steve switched topics without a beat, "Define intolerable."
The image of the stern-eyed man flickered as if the connection was tenuous. "The Thames has dried up entirely. Not a drip from Gloucester to London. Shipping and commerce is at a standstill, and the whole country smells of dead fish." The Black King projected images of a dried river bed with ships stuck in the muck or laying, abandoned, on their side. "Also, Castle Sheldrake is under attack." As if to punctuate the statement, the Black King's image de-rezzed then solidified.
"Under attack? By whom?" Steve did his best to keep the exasperation from his voice. Trust the laconic Cyril to mention the attack on his ancestral home as an afterthought.
"Damned if I know," the Black King rubbed his knuckles as if he wanted to enter the fray himself. "Bat-winged primates with scales and claws." A shrug. "Xanadu says they're something called crazelings, creatures of chaos, but as to what the deuce that might be..."
"The Black Queen usually knows what she's talking about when it comes to this sort of thing," Steve called up a view of Castle Black's exterior. Black-armored pawns were pinned down in the medieval courtyard, firing into the air at the monsters strafing them. But as he watched, a motorcycle skidded through the portcullis, bearing a feminine figure in a red beret and green domino mask. She steered one-handed, and with the other she fired a stun-gun with unerring accuracy, knocking crazelings out of the sky. "Looks like your Knight has things well in hand outside, Cyril. Sit tight until we can work out a coordinated response. I'll get back to you both in a couple of hours. White King out."
He shut down his work station and sat in the dark and quiet for a moment, rubbing his temples and trying to make sense of what was happening.
"Long day, agapetos?"
Just hearing her voice made his heart instantly lighter. He looked up to see her walk briskly into his office, holding her arms out for him. In a burst of renewed energy, he got to his feet and went to her, meeting her with an exuberant kiss.
"Every day is long without you, Diana," he told her, placing his hands on her hips in a casually intimate gesture. She laced her fingers together around the back of his neck, cocking her head at him. Though the only illumination in the room came from city-lights outside the window, her eyes shone. "But I'm sure it's nothing compared to what you've been through the last few days. I haven't seen you-- except on the news-- since the incident with Giganta last Monday."
Diana shook her head, her expression troubled. "I've hardly stopped in a week," she conceded. "It's like every psychopath on Earth has decided to wreak havoc all at once. Even perfectly normal people are losing their minds, it seems. Not to mention the weird natural disasters that are happening with increasing frequency all over the world... I've just come from Bahdnisia, where three extinct volcanoes decided to erupt at the same time. It's chaos out there."
"All of this happening at the same time is too coincidental," Steve nodded. "My science team is baffled, and we even called in a consult from S.T.A.R. Labs. Nothing. Do you have any idea what's causing it?"
She arched an eyebrow. "Do you mean, do I think Olympus is involved?"
Caught, he laughed softly. "Well, yes. An almost perpetual storm raging over most of the planet, strange red skies without a meteorological explanation... Sounds like the mischief of gods, if you ask me."
Her arms still on his shoulders, she glanced away, considering the question. "I admit, the thought occurred to me. But we haven't seen a glimpse of the Olympians since they withdrew from this plane of existence more than ten years ago. I was considering going back to Paradise Island to consult the oracles, though, just in case. But I don't think it's them, Steve. I think it's something else. Something we've never seen before."
Something in her voice sent a cold numbing shock down Steve Trevor's spine. It wasn't often Wonder Woman was afraid.
He cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him.
"That sounds like a good idea, actually," he told her, giving her a quick peck on the lips, making her smile. "A visit to Themyscira might be just the thing. You could see Lyta. I'll bet she's grown another few inches and can shoot a fly off a horse's mane at fifty feet by now."
The thought of their daughter made Diana's smile broaden. Not yet four years old, the precocious tow-headed little girl was getting an education like no other but one: Lyta had inherited her mother's god-given gifts and was learning to use them from the world's finest warriors and philosophers.
Diana sighed. It had been weeks since either one of them had seen their child, their missions in the world keeping them away. Diana thought of her friend Hal Jordan, who had taken off the power ring of Green Lantern to raise his daughter, and wondered when her own mission of bringing peace would be accomplished.
"In a few days, maybe," she told Steve. "The hearings are tomorrow."
Steve made a face and rolled his eyes. It was clear what he thought about that topic.
"I still don't see why you have to put yourself through that," he grumbled. "Donations to the Wonder Women Foundation are through the roof. You've funded your budgets for the next two years just on the check Bruce wrote..."
"We need the official sanction," Diana insisted. "The United States is the last member of the Security Council that doesn't recognize the organization, and that could make trouble for our teams on the ground. The work is too important to bind it up with red tape."
He hated to see her answer to petty politicians with selfish ambitions. She was a match for all of them, of course, but it still rankled.
"But that's tomorrow," Diana blinked at him, her eyes wide in exaggerated contrition. "I think the world can spare us until the morning. What say you, husband? Care to steal away a few hours with me?"
It was moments like this that convinced Steve Trevor he was the luckiest man in history.
"I suppose," he hedged with a disingenuous sigh, hardly resisting as she pulled him away with her.
Neron, the Lord of Lies and King of Hate, First Seated of the Infernal Domain, was not pleased. He sat his throne in his palace of Pandemonium, overseeing the torments of the damned and the temptation of the mortal realms, and brooded on the news he'd just received.
Could it be believed? Was Earth, his personal garden of corporeal delights, truly doomed?
"Doomsdays come and go," Neron snarled at his mortal visitor. "Incursions from New Gods, the Black Sun... The heroes of Earth are accursedly good at pulling their world back from the brink. What makes you think this will be any different, Blood?"
Jason Blood held a slim black candle in both hands, the wick giving off greasy smoke. He stood before the throne of Hell, the fires from the skies outside reflecting in his own red eyes. He shrugged. "You know the answer to that as well as I do, Lord. They cannot fight this. It is utterly beyond them."
Neron snorted. "How do I know you're even telling me the truth? Show me the Eternity Book."
Jason did not flinch when he said, "I cannot, Lord. It was stolen. By the angel Asmodel."
A hiss escaped Neron and he roared to his feet, eyes flaring. Outside the palace, flames blazed higher and the screams of the damned peaked. "You dare to speak an angelic name in Hell...?"
A crooked smile twisted Jason's thin lips. "Where better, Lord?"
Neron's glare would have singed the skin off Blood had he been physically present, but Blood's form was merely an astral projection; it was no easy thing for a living man to go to hell, and even less easy to find his way out again. And for Jason Blood there were additional... complications.
As quickly as Neron's anger flared it abated. He may have been the Lord of Lies, but that didn't mean he couldn't see the truth for what it was... And he was beginning to see a remarkable opportunity.
"It would seem I have little choice," he stroked his chin, thinking furiously. Impossible ambitions filled his head. "It may, indeed, be the Hour of Neron, at long last..." His eyes raked Blood appraisingly. "You have done well to bring this to be, Jason Blood. A special place is reserved for you at my right hand when your mortal days are done."
Again, the smirk from the impudent mortal. "A dubious honor at best, Lord Neron. I think I will respectfully decline it."
Neron was not finished. "You speak thus at your immortal peril, knave," he spat. "Nevertheless, you served me well, and will serve me still. Though you may like it not." His gaze seized Jason's and would not relinquish it as he ground out the words with enough bite to draw blood. "Yarva daemonicus."
Jason's eyes widened but he was held fast by Neron's commanding gaze and the connection of the black candle; he could not look away.
From out of the shadows materialized a hulking being of yellowed, scaly skin, horns and a mouth of teeth like knives. It lumbered into Jason's view, cloaked in a tattered cape, its red eyes a mirror to Jason's own.
Neron's laugh was deep and mirthless. "Gone, gone the form of man," he intoned.
Unable to do aught else, Jason Blood's lips moved with Neron's, echoing the words in a rasping whisper: "Rise the demon, Etrigan..."
The demon vanished from Neron's throne room.
On the material plane, in a secret refuge, Jason Blood collapsed in the center of his chalk pentagram, the black candle rolling from his hand--- and he vanished, to be instantly replaced by the Demon.
Etrigan howled a gleeful cry of freedom, and bounded through the window in a spray of glass and hellfire.
The next morning, the chairwoman of the Wonder Women Foundation appeared before a joint committee of Congress. It was a packed chamber, and the galleries were filled not just with lobbyists and aides, but more than the usual amount of press and photographers.
The chair of the committee rapped his gavel for quiet, and got down to business. "Please state your name for the record, please."
She wore her hair up, plain round-framed lenses covered her violet eyes, glossy lipstick her only concession to makeup, and her apparel was all business. "Diana Prince," she said, leaning into the microphone. At the table by her side was a dark-haired woman with a short haircut; she was taking notes in a steno pad.
"And who is accompanying you, Ms. Prince?"
"This is my counsel, Jean Loring, of Loring Law."
Jean looked up briefly to acknowledge the introduction.
"Do you think you need a lawyer today, Ms. Prince? This is not really that sort of hearing."
At the comment, Jean leaned over to speak into the mic. "Senator, at present the Wonder Women Foundation is being sued by a number of special interest groups, several of which aggressively lobby members of this committee," she stared pointedly at the congressman directly to the chairman's left. "So as chief counsel for the organization, I insisted on being present."
The congressman Jean had pointed out was an unconventional-looking man. He was slightly pudgy, and his graying beard was plaited into elaborate braids. His lips pressed together in a sour expression and he glared back at the two women. His name plate read, "Rep. Maximillian Zeus, Gotham City District 13."
The chairman nodded and moved on. "Very well. Ms. Prince," he looked at her over his glasses. "You've come before this joint committee seeking official recognition status of the United States government for the Wonder Women Foundation. Why don't you begin by telling us what your organization does, exactly."
"I would be happy to, senator," Diana folded her hands atop the table in front of her, the image of composure. "The Wonder Women Foundation is dedicated to bringing our core principles of peace and truth to every corner of the world, promoting equality between the sexes and races, and spreading a message of tolerance and compassion for everyone. We hope to do this by harnessing the innate love and strength of women in all countries, but invite every father, son, and brother to stand with us. We have built schools, women's shelters, wells, farms, and housing for the under-privileged on five continents. We have interceded in war zones in South America, Africa and Asia, and assisted in every humanitarian relief effort of the last ten years. We are currently seeking to have our charter ratified by the United Nations, and hope we can expect the support of the United States of America."
"Thank you, Ms. Prince," the chairman shuffled some papers around, and looked almost embarrassed when he said, "The chair recognizes the congressman from Gotham City District 13."
Maxie Zeus wasted no time. He leaned into his microphone like a cat ready to pounce. "From whence, madam, do you derive these holier-than-thou core principles you so zealously espouse?"
Diana was prepared for his antipathy. She'd been thoroughly briefed by Jean. "They are the traditional beliefs of the Amazons of Themyscira."
"The Amazons!" Zeus slapped his hand on the table, as if making a point. "If it pleases the committee, it may be discerned from my name that I know a thing or two about Hellenic culture and history. These are the same warrior women par excellence mentioned in Aeschylus, Plutarch, and Herodotus as---and I quote..." He glanced down at the notes in front of him. "Androktones. Killers of men."
"Your sources are more than two thousand years old, congressman," Diana replied in a calm voice. "The Amazons of today take up arms only against the horrors of Doom's Doorway, which is located on Paradise Island."
Zeus was non-plussed. "And what do we even know about this Wonder Woman in whose honor your foundation is named? A warrior queen! By what right and authority does she rule her country? As an American, I'm not comfortable dealing with monarchical tyrants."
"Diana of Themyscira is no tyrant," Diana told him, with the first hint of ire creeping into her voice. "She inherited the right and authority to rule the Amazons through her mother Hippolyta, their first queen ordained by the goddesses Hestia, Demeter, Aphrodite, Artemis, and Athena. But again, congressman, your information is out of date. Wonder Woman abdicated her throne and abolished the hereditary monarchy several years ago. Themyscira is now governed by a ruling council of annually-elected archons."
"Goddesses!" Zeus snorted. "Does the Wonder Women Foundation preach the rites of pagan deities?"
"We neither preach nor practice any rites," Diana shook her head, trying to keep up with his irrational leaps of logic. "Just the opposite, in fact. We seek to free people from antiquated beliefs and religious prejudices---."
Jean laid a hand on her client's arm, and Diana fell silent, leaning backward to allow Jean the microphone.
"Mr. Chairman, I resent the adversarial tone of the congressman from Gotham City," Jean didn't bother to look at Zeus. "We are applying to this committee in good faith, and are willing to answer any questions, therefore I must insist on civility."
"Quite right, Ms. Loring," the chairman grunted and directed a warning glance at his colleague. "Let's not lose sight of what we're here for, Representative Zeus. Ms. Prince is not on trial."
"Assuredly not," Zeus seemed to take umbrage at being chastised. "In fact, we were not expecting the elusive chairwoman of the Wonder Woman Foundation to be here today at all, were we? We were expecting the Executive Director Doris Zeul. Where is Zeul today, madam?"
Diana was prepared for the question. "Doctor Zeul," she stressed Doris' title, "As you are no doubt already aware, congressman, is currently in protective custody with Checkmate."
"Doris Zeul is the metahuman known as Giganta who went on a rampage on the National Mall last Monday?"
"If you are implying that Dr. Zeul is a criminal, I will remind you that she has already been pardoned by President Waller, and has served as the driving force behind the WWF's humanitarian initiatives since its inception. We are not sure what caused the her to lose control of her powers, but she is getting the help she needs."
"Checkmate..." Zeus mulled the word. "That's the multinational peace-keeping force headed by retired USAF general Steve Trevor, isn't it?"
"Yes it is."
"And General Trevor is your husband?"
"Yes."
Jean Loring leaned into the microphone, "Mister Chairman," the exasperation in her voice was loud and clear. "As you said yourself, Diana Prince is not on trial here."
The chairman opened his mouth to speak, but Maxie Zeus rushed into the gap. "Assuredly not," he repeated, snappishly. "I was just exploring the links between two far-reaching NGOs operating on U.S. soil with no allegiance to the American people or government, yet demanding their sanction. Not an unreasonable line of questioning, Mr. Chairman."
The chairman nodded, but didn't look across at the two women.
"Even more disconcerting is that the WWF has not disclosed its financial statements," Zeus pressed on. "Other than the formerly clandestine Checkmate, and the warrior women of Paradise Island," he made quotation marks with his fingers, "What other foreign governments and shadowy organizations is the WWF beholden to?"
"The Wonder Woman Foundation is beholden to nothing, except our core principles," Diana did her best not to rise to the bait. "While we sometimes work with Checkmate--- and also Doctors With Borders, the International Red Cross, and the World Health Organization--- we are not affiliated with any of them. We are funded by donations from private parties from all over the world."
"Oh, that is not in dispute at all," Zeus shook his fist in the air, his eyes wide and a little feverish. "What I want to know is how many converts you have in America!"
Diana frowned. ""Converts, congressman?
"Converts, Ms. Prince! Like Holly Robinson, in my own district. A former child-prostitute and a convicted felon, who runs one of your lovely women's shelters--- not to mention a known associate of criminals and a sexual deviant!"
"That's enough!" Jean Loring got to her feet, and spoke so loudly she didn't need the mic. "Congressman Zeus obviously has an ax to grind here, and it's clear my client will be unable to get a fair hearing---."
"That shelter is a haven for prostitutes, drug addicts, and lesbians!" Zeus shouted in a shrill voice.
The chairman rapped his gavel several times for order, but the galleries were abuzz with the congressman's outburst.
"Outrageous, Mr. Chairman, absolutely beyond the pale," Jean Loring was furious, jabbing her finger at Zeus, who was trying to talk over her. "It is well-known that Maxie Zeus is a member of the reprehensible Glorious Crusade movement founded by New Gods from Apokolips solely to discredit Wonder Woman and everything she stands for. How the hell do people like him even get elected in this country---?"
The hearing had degenerated into chaos. Diana sat back in her chair with a sigh of disgust. She could see now that her enemies had accomplished their goal: the hearing had turned into a political circus, and the good work of the Wonder Women Foundation was in jeopardy.
Suddenly, the entire Capitol shook, as if the building had been caught in an earthquake. All the chatter in the chamber instantly ceased. People stood, arms splayed to regain balance, looking around in surprise. Even Maxie Zeus clapped his mouth shut, waiting for the other shoe to drop...
Then something manifested in the center of the chamber, cutting itself from the hole it had torn in reality. Light flared bright enough to burn, causing every face to turn away. Only Diana Prince was able to endure the sight, looking sidelong, shielding her eyes with one hand.
Clad in a nimbus of unbearable brightness was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His features were indistinct, her mind could not quite grasp them, but it still stabbed at her heart. He was clad in armor of shining gold, wore a curiously designed helm, and wings like Hawkman's were tucked behind his back. On his hip was buckled a sword.
"Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve," his voice reverberated as if layered a hundred times over. Though it was melodious, eardrums burst from the sound of his voice, causing people to fall to the ground, arms over their head, bleeding and crying. "Your wickedness is an abomination in the sight of the Lord, and behold I am His wrath." He drew his sword, and as he held it aloft, it burst into red flame. "Surrender to me the Wonder Woman, and prolong your days a while longer. Keep her from me, and know swift, merciless judgment."
But no one in the chamber was capable of answering the angel. Most everyone was screaming, and pushing others aside to flee. All but one.
Diana stood before the buffeting force of the angel, shielding Jean from the brunt of his overwhelming presence. Her head pounded, but she withstood him, gritting her teeth.
"Who are you to pass judgment?" She yelled over the carillon in her head, over the tumult of the panicking chamber.
His gaze fell upon her like a blow, nailing her to the spot. She felt laid bare, as if every secret she had was exposed to him.
"Wonder Woman," the angel sang, triumph in his voice. "I have seen your name writ in the Book of Eternity. In three days you will commit the Unforgivable Sin. This must not come to pass. Therefore, your life is forfeit. I return you now to the clay that formed you."
The angel moved with blinding speed. In the blink of an eye, he was upon Diana, his sword cleaving down in a flash of flame. The clang of the impact rang throughout the chamber. Diana had managed to raise her arms, criss-crossed, to catch the blade between the silver bracelets on her wrists. Heavenly energy emanated from him in waves, blasting her, shredding her clothes, knocking off her glasses and blowing back her hair. She stood revealed in the armor of the Amazon Champion, her secret identity exposed to the panicked people fleeing the chamber.
"What. In the name. Of all the gods! Are you--- DOING?" Wonder Woman jerked her arms apart and shattered the fiery blade between her bracelets.
The angel reared back at the destruction of his weapon, something akin to surprise on his smooth, beautiful features. His wings flared out, and they were an awesome sight, larger than they appeared, lifting him off the ground. Wonder Woman could only stare in open-mouthed awe at the spectacle of it. His wingspan filled the chamber.
"To fulfill the plan of the Lord God Almighty, Wonder Woman must die." Sang the angel, and he flung his arms wide. A blast of concussive force exploded from him. Just in time, Wonder Woman threw herself atop Jean Loring, shielding her from the blow, but many others weren't as lucky. The power of the angel's will flattened everything around him, shattered wood and glass, pulping flesh and bone; those not under cover were killed instantly, including several members of Congress--- though not Maxie Zeus, who cowered behind a battered wall of oak desks and chairs. The roof and walls of the chamber were blown out, as if a hurricane had erupted from within.
Not waiting for a second detonation, Wonder Woman flew straight at him. Her double-fisted blow caught him amid-section, and the force of her momentum drove him backward. They smashed through the upper levels of the Capitol, plowing through floors of government offices.
"Damn you!" Wonder Woman said through gritted teeth, pushing the angel back and up at the point of her fists. "How can you claim to be a messenger of god and yet kill all those people?"
Surprised by her attack, the angel recovered himself, and increased his mass, halting their flight. He reached down, and seized Wonder Woman's wrists in one hand, wrenching her up to his face.
"The Almighty is merciful, woman of clay. Question not His plan for this world." He yanked her aside by her wrists as if she were a doll, and smashed her against a wall, crumbling masonry and wood around her. "And in His mercy, He has decreed that you must be destroyed." He raised her up, dangling her before him, dazed and limp. He raised his other hand, clenched in a fist.
"No," she said, kicking out with both feet together. The blow caught the angel off-guard, and he dropped her, staggering back.
The momentary respite was all Wonder Woman needed to gather herself. She swung her golden lasso over her head and flung it at him, loping it around his neck like a garrote. The angel's hands seized at it reflexively, but he was kept off balance when she yanked back with all her might, sweeping him through the air. A cry of exertion escaped her as she used the momentum to smash him through a wall. She continued to spin, pounding him into the floor, the ceiling, into every solid surface, keeping him stunned.
"Enough."
The angel managed to curl the links of the lasso around his massive hand, and he pulled, jerking her off her feet. But she wouldn't let, go, even as he continued to loop the lasso around his fist, dragging her toward him on her belly. When she was close enough, he put a sandaled foot on the small of her back, pressing her flat against the ground. Wonder Woman squirmed but could not break away. She felt the pressure on her spine increasing exponentially every second; in a moment, it would snap.
"Why? she demanded, lifting her head, tears swimming in her eyes.
The angel's face was impassive as he pressed downward with his foot. And with the Lasso of Truth looped around him, he could not lie: "Because the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Eve have made of the Earth naught but a battleground for Chaos and Order, and have therefore forfeited their inheritance. The Lord God Almighty has decreed that the world should be unmade lest the Great Disaster unmake all of His Creation."
The shock of the words vied with the relentless pressure of his crushing foot. God wanted to destroy the world...?
She summoned every ounce of remaining strength, propped her arms beneath her, but she couldn't budge. Darkness swam before her eyes. Her spine was on the verge of breaking.
"When mortals incite heaven's ire, angel beware the Demon's fire!"
A wave of flame engulfed Diana's vision and the killing pressure on her back was gone. Gasping, she rolled over to see the angel spiraling backward, covered in hellfire, his multitudinous voice rising in a shriek. Her rescuer was a horrid sight, but a familiar one: Etrigan the Demon.
"Horn of the Ram, Asmodel of the Fifth Host," Etrigan sprang up and swiped his claws across the angel's chest, drawing blood. Asmodel continued to burn and scream. "Courtesy of the damned, meet your Holy Ghost!" Another gush of hellfire erupted from Etrigan's mouth, and Asmodel was fully aflame.
His wings outspread, the angel shot upward bursting from the U.S. Capitol Building. He arced over Washington, D.C., across blood-red skies, his piteous howls shattering windows, bursting pipes and setting off alarms all over the city. Like a comet, Asmodel achieved escape velocity and winked out of sight.
Reeling from her fight with the angel, Wonder Woman climbed to her feet amidst the shambles of the U.S. Capitol. Little fires burned all around her, setting off sprinklers and shedding smoke. Klaxons blared, but all she could see was the Demon staring at her with red, glowing eyes.
"When Heaven turns against thee, Amazon, turn thou to Hell and the Lord Neron," Etrigan stretched out a hand to her, scaled, yellow, and clawed. She stared at it, aghast. "Come now, the hour is late. When love fails, turn to hate."
"No," she said in a firm voice. "Never."
Etrigan laughed, and it was a horrible sound. Before he could say anything, they were interrupted by a squad of Capitol Police rushing towards them.
"No, don't shoot---"
But it was too late. Gunshots resounded and bullets slammed into Etrigan. The Demon snarled and with one mighty bound, leapt out through the hole in the roof, leaving behind him only destruction and the whiff of brimstone.
The aftermath proved almost as damaging as the attack. Miraculously, Maxie Zeus had survived, and was already holding a press conference on the steps of the Capitol, even as emergency teams rushed in to fight the fires, find survivors and tend to the wounded.
"A very angel of the Lord God! I would not believe it myself if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes," Zeus ranted, gesticulating wildly, spittle flying from his mouth. He looked insane, but he played to every camera, and his face was on every TV, laptop, and mobile device in America within minutes. "Security footage of the chamber will show it all. He accused her, Diana Prince--- Wonder Woman, hiding in plain sight all this time!--- of the most heinous, most unforgivable sins, and declared that he'd been sent to destroy her. The Lord God Almighty Himself wants her dead! I know of no greater indictment of this damned Foundation than that! The harlot provokes heaven and heaven comes with fire and sword to---."
"Turn it off," Steve Trevor growled. He stalked into the conference room of Castle White, his inner circle waiting for him. Many in the White King's Court were scattered across the world battling the catastrophes of what was now being called "the Great Disaster" but these three were his most trusted comrades.
The VR display over the table went black and winked out of existence.
"Steve, what the living hell is happening?" Asked the White Queen, Katrina Armstrong. In another life, she had revived her grandfather's superheroic legacy as Spy Smasher, but had left that behind after being recruited by Steve for Checkmate.
"Hell is right," Steve grumbled, taking his place at the head of the table. "I just spoke to Diana," his wife's identity was no secret to these three. "And I can hardly believe what she told me."
"That fool Zeus has obviously got it wrong," asserted the White King's Rook, Christopher Chance. The man once known as the Human Target was standing by his chair and seemed anxious to throw himself into action somewhere.
"I'm afraid he's got it more right than wrong, Chris," Steve let out an exasperated breath. "Diana said the angel tried to kill her on orders from--- and I can't believe I'm saying this--- God. She said they wanted her dead because in three days she's supposed to do..." Steve was obviously having a hard time with this. "Something bad." He finished with a lame shrug.
"Where is Wonder Woman now?" asked the last member of their triumvirate, a cerebral-looking man with a pencil-thin moustache named Darwin Jones.
"Searching for answers," Steve was not more forthcoming because he didn't really know. She had kissed him like she was saying goodbye, then flew away. But Steve Trevor would be damned if that was the last time he saw his wife. "In the meantime, we have our own job to do. I don't care what that angel said, or that the Demon is rampaging in the halls of Congress, we're going to back-up Diana. And not because she's my wife, but because she's Wonder Woman, and every action she's ever taken since she first left Paradise Island has been to save us, sometimes even from ourselves. Checkmate, at least, won't let her down, even if we have to fight Heaven and Hell. If anyone here has a problem with that, tell me now."
"We're with you, Steve," Katrina laid a hand over his. "And we're with Diana."
"Damn straight," muttered Christopher Chance.
Darwin Jones leaned forward on his elbows, nodding. "Say the word, general, and Checkmate will stand ready."
Pride flushed his cheeks. But Steve didn't have time to indulge the feeling. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and took the plunge. "Good. Then scramble all forces for Operation Endgame. Checkmate is going to war."
Wonder Woman needed more information--- what she knew only confused her--- but the Demon proved impossible to track. Jason Blood's apartment in Gotham was a crime scene, and a quick call to Zatanna had also turned up nothing. Heaven wanted her dead, and Hell wanted her soul: she was willing to give in to neither.
This was too big. Though she hadn't been an active member for years, she had resolved to take this to the Justice League. Besides, once a Leaguer...
There was a transporter tube in Gotham; maybe her problems would look clearer 23,000 miles above the wracked planet. As she streaked across the sky, the storm clouds that were omnipresent since the crisis began, seemed to crowd around her, to get thicker. They were tinged with red from the weird lightning that crackled so frequently now. A deep foreboding filled her. Not for the first time in recent days, she wished she could call upon her gods, but the Olympians had long since departed this plane, moving onto to whatever next phase of existence was reserved for forgotten gods and goddesses.
She swooped out of the clouds, down towards Gotham. But she could not see the lights of the city now. In fact, all that was below her was a stretch of gray landscape, dotted with only dead trees. Something strange was happening.
She touched down, bewildered at the profound silence all around her. Even the storm clouds were gone, and the night sky above her was filled with stars in patterns she did not recognize.
"Hola!" She called out, and her voice echoed across the universe as if she were its only occupant.
For a moment, she wondered if Hell had found her, creeped-up on her somehow... But she felt none of the hopelessness or sorrow she associated with Lord Neron's realm, just a vast emptiness.
Then she heard a voice calling her name.
She followed the sound of it, walking cautiously down a path lined with smooth stones, like markers. The path led her gradually up an incline, and into a labyrinth of gnarled, tortured trees.
"Wonder Woman..."
The voice was deep and sonorous. Not menacing, though it sounded as if it came from the depths of a sepulcher. She followed it to a spot where many paths converged in a bower of weeds and ivy. There waited a man in a purple robe, with the hood drawn up to cover his eyes. In his hands was a large and antique book, a chain running from it to his right wrist.
"Wonder Woman." He repeated, like an affirmation.
She kept her distance. "Who are you?"
"It matters not who I am," came the hollow voice of the man. She saw his lips moving, but the voice seemed to be coming from every corner of the weird garden. "Though some call me Destiny, for in my Book is written everything that was, is, and is yet to be. The questions in your heart have called you here, to the Garden of Forking Ways. But I warn you: beware the answers, for truth oft is a double-edge sword."
Diana stared at the book in his hands: it was open to the last page. She faced the hooded man squarely, and said, "I don't fear the truth. Tell me: what is happening?"
"It is called the Great Disaster," said the man, and a chill ran up her spine, hearing the term Asmodel used. " The balance between Chaos and Order has been upset, and the Lords have gone to war. It will consume the earth and spread out into the cosmos until all the universe is swallowed by the contest. It has happened before. I have seen the graveyard of universes. Behold---." He raised one arm and gestured to the sky.
Above her the sky was suddenly aswirl with images her mind could barely contain. Beings of complexity beyond conception and otherworldly beauty and horror encompassed the heavens, flaring and banking, some in triumph, some in agony. She sensed no goodness or evil, but a profound predatory apathy, as of dragons thrashing over an anthill.
She gasped, staggered by the immensity of it all. When she could speak again, she asked, "How can I stop it?"
"Stop it?" Destiny's voice was disdainful. "How do you stop light from making shadow? How do you stop up from creating down? You cannot stop it. The question between them must be settled once and for all."
Destiny lowered his arm, and the images faded. The night sky was clear again, but somewhere was a war that was shredding reality, and the scene was burned into her mind.
"But why? Why must the world suffer...?" It was too much to take in. Her mind was struggling to correlate all she had just seen without shutting down.
"The Lords of Chaos and Order care not at all for the wrack of the world. Its fate is but a trifling consequence to their aeons-long struggle. The great tragedy of the Earth is that the end will begin here. Therefore to forestall that dire event, the Earth must die."
At first she wasn't sure she had heard correctly. Was Destiny passing judgment on the world simply because it had become the battleground for the Chaos and Order War?
"Even now," intoned Destiny, "The fabric of reality is unwinding. Yet the catastrophes tearing the Earth asunder are being caused not by the Lords, but by its maker cutting out a cancer. The very Creator is sacrificing one world to save a multitude."
The words pinned Diana to the spot. The words echoed what the angel Asmodel had said, under the aegis of her lasso. The truth cut her to the bone, and lodged in her soul.
God was ending the world.
She had said she didn't fear the truth, but she had never been more afraid in her life.
"Then why..." her voice failed, strangled off by emotion. Lyta. Steve. Donna. Cassie. Their faces swam before her mind's eye, and she found her voice again. "Why kill me first?"
"Because, Diana," intoned Destiny holding out the book chained to his wrist. "Woman formed of clay, created not by the Presence, but by the spirits of love and peace, a Creator may not be slain by his Creation."
For a moment the words did not register. Then the full import of them sank in and they drove Diana to her knees. When she looked up, her face streaked with tears, her shoulders shaking with sobs, and the truth cleaving her heart and soul into pieces, Destiny was looking down on her with something like pity.
As if reading the pain in her eyes, he said, "Truth is truth, it is neither good nor evil. It simply is." He drew her up, then stepped aside to reveal to her a small stone pillar, atop of which were placed arms and armor. "Before Athena departed this plane, she gave these into my keeping saying, One day my champion shall be the champion of all, for only she will have the courage to do what no one else can or will. This, then, is my final gift to her..."
With the taste of ashes in her mouth, Wonder Woman accepted the last gift of Olympus. And when she was clad in golden armor, she raised Athena's own sword into the air and let out such a cry of grief and terror and outrage that it carried from Destiny's garden across the cosmos, to vie with the storms that wracked the earth, echoing in the halls of Neron's Hell, and finally to resound with all her passion against the very gates of Heaven...
Lyta Trevor woke with a start.
The little girl was drenched in sweat and tangled in her covers. Breaths came in hoarse gasps, and her heart felt like it would gallop out of her chest. She thought she had heard her mother cry out... Surely it had been a dream?
Throwing off her sheets, she got out of bed and padded to the open window. The view from her bedchamber was magnificent: all of Themyscira lay sprawled out below her, peaceful and quiet at such a late hour. And beyond, gentle waves lapped the shores of Paradise Island. Only the sky was troubled, rumbling with an ominous storm.
She was safe. Always close by to guard her, Euboea slept in the next room; Lyta could hear the sound of her respiration.
Just a dream...
Then something stepped out of the shadows.
"If mother won't help of her own free will," came a sibilant whisper. The figure was hulking and clad in a tattered cape. Its eyes glowed, revealing the leering face of the Demon. "Then daughter must do, for good or for ill!"
Before Lyta could scream, his scaled hand covered her mouth and he whisked her away to Hell.
A dark-skinned man in a turban knocked on the door of Jason Blood’s apartment. “Hello? Jason? It is Randu. Let me in, man, it is urgent!” Randu Singh, U.N. delegate from the small sub-continental nation of Chandrapore and Blood’s longtime friend and associate in arcane matters, was very worried. He had been awakened in the dead of night by a feeling of dread such as he had never known. He sensed his friend was in great danger.
“Damn it, Jason, open the bloody door!”
When no answer was forthcoming, Randu reached into a pocket of his knee-length embroidered kurta and pulled out the spare key he’d been given, and let himself in.
The apartment was empty and dark, but for a small fire burning out of control in Jason’s sitting room.
Randu rushed in, snatching down the heavy drapes over the window and beat the fire repeatedly, smothering it. He let fall the smoking drapery, and looked at what had been burning: the prize of Jason’s occult collection, Merlin’s own grimoire, The Eternity Book. Only… the book seemed untouched, even though the table it sat upon was charred and blackened.
Randu reached out a tentative hand to examine it but as he did, the glass of the apartment window shattered inward and a winged figure burst into the room. Randu Singh threw up an arm to cover his face from the flying shards, though he was cut in a dozen places. He stumbled backward, away from the sudden new arrival, with a startled cry.
“Where is the Wonder Woman?”
The voice was beautiful, a balm to Randu’s ears, like a lovely melody. But the demanding tone was harsh, unsettling. He lowered his arm to get a better look.
A bright light came from the winged man, so much so that Randu had to continue shielding his eyes. He got the impression of haughty human features and intricate golden armor.
“Son of Adam, tell me, where is Diana of Themyscira?”
“I don’t know,” Randu had to shout to be heard. There was an unnatural wind blowing in throw the broken window, and there was a kind of chiming, like the echo of a rung bell, in the air.
There was a brighter flash of light. Now, the golden, winged man held something in his hand, something that burned with a fire of its own. Was it a sword?
“Who are you?” Stammered Randu, his robes fluttering about him as he shrank away from the terrible figure.
“I am the Sword of the Lord God, the Horn of the Ram, and archangel of the Fifth Host,” the voice was still musical, but the tone was discordant, terrifying. “I am Asmodel.”
The name was a word of power and once spoken, it burst Randu’s ear drums. He screamed, covering his ears with his hands, blood gushing through them. But the pain did not last long. In the next instant, the flaming sword of Asmodel flashed and Randu Singh’s head sailed from his body.
WONDER WOMAN:
R.I.P.
Issue #1: "Epiphaneia"
Written by David Charlton
Cover by Steve Howard
R.I.P.
Issue #1: "Epiphaneia"
Written by David Charlton
Cover by Steve Howard
Screams of panic rose from the National Mall. Tourists who would normally be enjoying the serenity of the Reflecting Pool or visiting the many memorials or monuments of Washington, D.C. stampeded for cover. Steve Trevor, on the ground amidst the crowds, tried to keep the riot from getting out of control, but he and his armored peacekeepers were swept aside in the tide of humanity.
The ground shook. A hundred-foot woman stomped onto the Mall, clad in leopard print and rage. In one had she clenched the crushed remains of an eighteen wheel oil truck, as the other waved off a black Checkmate helicopter.
"UH-90, this is White King, disengage Giganta! Repeat, disengage Giganta," Steve yelled into the comm on the lapel of his jacket. "Get out of there Tom before she kills you and your crew!"
The helicopter peeled away. Gnashing her teeth, Giganta wound up and dashed the tanker into the ground. The resulting fireball knocked her back, stunning her momentarily.
A fleeing woman careened into Steve, almost knocking them both over. He steadied her, but the woman was gripped by fear. "She's insane! She'll kill us all! God help us!"
Something caught Steve's eye, and he smiled. "Will an angel do?"
Wonder Woman flew from out of the sun, out of Giganta's blind spot, and hit the gargantuan woman like a missile. The impact sent Giganta tumbling backward. She would have toppled onto the Lincoln Memorial, but Wonder Woman circled around her and re-directed the angle of her fall. Giganta staggered to her knees, shaking her head.
"Doris, listen to me," Wonder Woman hovered by the giantess' head, calling to her in a clear voice. "You are Dr. Doris Zeul, executive director of the Wonder Women Foundation. I am your friend, Diana! You haven't been Giganta in years. Come back to yourself. Doris--- Ooof!"
One mighty arm swept her out of the sky, and sent her splashing into the Reflecting Pool. Giganta gave a mindless roar and trampled the ground after her.
"Not Doris! Kill Wonder Woman!"
Steve was close enough that he waded into the pool and helped to pull a dazed Wonder Woman to her feet.
"I don't think you're getting though to her, Diana."
Her hair plastered to her face, Wonder Woman gave him an annoyed look. "I can see that, Steve, thank you." She said, uncoiling the gleaming lasso at her hip. "Now get back while I finish this."
Steve Trevor, USAF, ret., and White King of Checkmate watched as Wonder Woman rose into the air again, dripping, whirling a loop of her lasso. Giganta charged into the Reflecting Pool, swiping out with two enormous arms. Wonder Woman banked and flew out of her reach, and with an expert toss of the lasso, caught Giganta around one wrist. Giganta tried to pull her arm away, but Wonder Woman pulled back and was stronger. She yanked the once-reformed villain off balance, and sent her sprawling into the Pool.
"You are Dr. Doris Zeul!" Wonder Woman asserted, holding tight to the lasso as Giganta thrashed, spraying water everywhere, trying to get to get back up. "You are the executive director of the Wonder Women Foundation! You help people! You do good in the world! This is not you anymore! I am your friend, Diana! You are Dr. Doris Zeul..."
The mantra, repeated over and over, with the two of them connected by the Lasso of Truth, had the desired effect. Giganta's form spasmed and contracted, shrinking rapidly down to the size of a normal woman. Wonder Woman dropped the lasso and took her friend into her arms, holding her as Doris Zeul returned to her senses.
"Diana, I couldn't help it," she drew a heaving breath, her arms around Wonder Woman's shoulders. "I couldn't seem to control my thoughts... I just wanted to lose control, to wreak havoc... Please tell me no one was hurt..."
Ten years ago Wonder Woman had seen something special in Doris Zeul, a brilliant, if erratic, scientist who had often straddled questionable moral lines, and had asked her to lead a new initiative to bring peace and truth to a world consumed by violence and lies. The costumed adventurer who once called herself Giganta, a sometime member of the dubious Monster League of America, took the job and never looked back. Until today.
And it threatened to break her. She sobbed, clinging to Wonder Woman, afraid to let go. Diana held her friend, whispering soothingly to her, "Shhh, Doris. It's all right, no one was injured. We'll get you help, I promise..."
They were still like that when Steve draped his coat over Zeul's trembling shoulders. Diana looked up at him, grateful, but her attention was caught by an odd sight.
Storm clouds rolled overhead across the heavens, thick and ominous, in what had been an otherwise clear day. Stranger still, the blue of the sky was tinged with red, as if at sunset, though it was not yet noon, and little snakes of lightning slithered between the clouds. Thunder rumbled.
"I don't like the look of that," Steve muttered, following her gaze.
"Nor do I," said Diana, rocking the crying woman in her arms. "Nor do I."
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
Steve worked late into the night. Castle White stood not far off the Mall, and Steve's top floor office gave him a panoramic view of Washington, D.C. lit up even at this hour. But he had no time for the spectacular sight now, for the world seemed to be going off the rails. Multiple VR displays glowed above his desks, showing him various hotspots around the world. Every major city seemed to be in turmoil.
"White King, surely you must see that this is intolerable?"
The holographic VR feed from London showed the 3D image of a dark-haired man with intense eyes and thick mutton chop whiskers; the scrawl beneath him read: Black King, Wordenshire, UK.
"Cyril is right, Steve. We need a better response to this catastrophe." This in heavily-accented English from the woman with long iron-gray hair, her legend proclaiming her to be Red Queen, Moscow, Russia.
"I know. I'm working on it." A frown creased Trevor's handsome face. "Valentina, has Leonid checked-in from Atomic City? If those nukes are not secured we're going to have bigger problems on our hands."
"Nyet," the Red Queen looked concerned. "My Rook has never failed me, but the situation is unpredictable. There are reports of multiple meltdowns coming in. Unconfirmed, but troubling."
Steve bit back a profanity. As the unofficial first among equals of the Royal Court of Checkmate, he had to project calm and confidence. Besides, Vostok was right: nobody was better able to handle the situation in Russia than Leonid Kovar, the atomic-powered hero once known as Red Star.
"Recommend Castling Maneuver Two-B," Steve multi-tasked, pulling up a sit-rep from a team he conveniently had already deployed to the area; it was led by Gardner Grayle, his very own Atomic Knight. Perfect. "Diverting White King's Knight to back-up Red Queen's Rook. He should be on-site within the hour. Cyril," Steve switched topics without a beat, "Define intolerable."
The image of the stern-eyed man flickered as if the connection was tenuous. "The Thames has dried up entirely. Not a drip from Gloucester to London. Shipping and commerce is at a standstill, and the whole country smells of dead fish." The Black King projected images of a dried river bed with ships stuck in the muck or laying, abandoned, on their side. "Also, Castle Sheldrake is under attack." As if to punctuate the statement, the Black King's image de-rezzed then solidified.
"Under attack? By whom?" Steve did his best to keep the exasperation from his voice. Trust the laconic Cyril to mention the attack on his ancestral home as an afterthought.
"Damned if I know," the Black King rubbed his knuckles as if he wanted to enter the fray himself. "Bat-winged primates with scales and claws." A shrug. "Xanadu says they're something called crazelings, creatures of chaos, but as to what the deuce that might be..."
"The Black Queen usually knows what she's talking about when it comes to this sort of thing," Steve called up a view of Castle Black's exterior. Black-armored pawns were pinned down in the medieval courtyard, firing into the air at the monsters strafing them. But as he watched, a motorcycle skidded through the portcullis, bearing a feminine figure in a red beret and green domino mask. She steered one-handed, and with the other she fired a stun-gun with unerring accuracy, knocking crazelings out of the sky. "Looks like your Knight has things well in hand outside, Cyril. Sit tight until we can work out a coordinated response. I'll get back to you both in a couple of hours. White King out."
He shut down his work station and sat in the dark and quiet for a moment, rubbing his temples and trying to make sense of what was happening.
"Long day, agapetos?"
Just hearing her voice made his heart instantly lighter. He looked up to see her walk briskly into his office, holding her arms out for him. In a burst of renewed energy, he got to his feet and went to her, meeting her with an exuberant kiss.
"Every day is long without you, Diana," he told her, placing his hands on her hips in a casually intimate gesture. She laced her fingers together around the back of his neck, cocking her head at him. Though the only illumination in the room came from city-lights outside the window, her eyes shone. "But I'm sure it's nothing compared to what you've been through the last few days. I haven't seen you-- except on the news-- since the incident with Giganta last Monday."
Diana shook her head, her expression troubled. "I've hardly stopped in a week," she conceded. "It's like every psychopath on Earth has decided to wreak havoc all at once. Even perfectly normal people are losing their minds, it seems. Not to mention the weird natural disasters that are happening with increasing frequency all over the world... I've just come from Bahdnisia, where three extinct volcanoes decided to erupt at the same time. It's chaos out there."
"All of this happening at the same time is too coincidental," Steve nodded. "My science team is baffled, and we even called in a consult from S.T.A.R. Labs. Nothing. Do you have any idea what's causing it?"
She arched an eyebrow. "Do you mean, do I think Olympus is involved?"
Caught, he laughed softly. "Well, yes. An almost perpetual storm raging over most of the planet, strange red skies without a meteorological explanation... Sounds like the mischief of gods, if you ask me."
Her arms still on his shoulders, she glanced away, considering the question. "I admit, the thought occurred to me. But we haven't seen a glimpse of the Olympians since they withdrew from this plane of existence more than ten years ago. I was considering going back to Paradise Island to consult the oracles, though, just in case. But I don't think it's them, Steve. I think it's something else. Something we've never seen before."
Something in her voice sent a cold numbing shock down Steve Trevor's spine. It wasn't often Wonder Woman was afraid.
He cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him.
"That sounds like a good idea, actually," he told her, giving her a quick peck on the lips, making her smile. "A visit to Themyscira might be just the thing. You could see Lyta. I'll bet she's grown another few inches and can shoot a fly off a horse's mane at fifty feet by now."
The thought of their daughter made Diana's smile broaden. Not yet four years old, the precocious tow-headed little girl was getting an education like no other but one: Lyta had inherited her mother's god-given gifts and was learning to use them from the world's finest warriors and philosophers.
Diana sighed. It had been weeks since either one of them had seen their child, their missions in the world keeping them away. Diana thought of her friend Hal Jordan, who had taken off the power ring of Green Lantern to raise his daughter, and wondered when her own mission of bringing peace would be accomplished.
"In a few days, maybe," she told Steve. "The hearings are tomorrow."
Steve made a face and rolled his eyes. It was clear what he thought about that topic.
"I still don't see why you have to put yourself through that," he grumbled. "Donations to the Wonder Women Foundation are through the roof. You've funded your budgets for the next two years just on the check Bruce wrote..."
"We need the official sanction," Diana insisted. "The United States is the last member of the Security Council that doesn't recognize the organization, and that could make trouble for our teams on the ground. The work is too important to bind it up with red tape."
He hated to see her answer to petty politicians with selfish ambitions. She was a match for all of them, of course, but it still rankled.
"But that's tomorrow," Diana blinked at him, her eyes wide in exaggerated contrition. "I think the world can spare us until the morning. What say you, husband? Care to steal away a few hours with me?"
It was moments like this that convinced Steve Trevor he was the luckiest man in history.
"I suppose," he hedged with a disingenuous sigh, hardly resisting as she pulled him away with her.
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
Neron, the Lord of Lies and King of Hate, First Seated of the Infernal Domain, was not pleased. He sat his throne in his palace of Pandemonium, overseeing the torments of the damned and the temptation of the mortal realms, and brooded on the news he'd just received.
Could it be believed? Was Earth, his personal garden of corporeal delights, truly doomed?
"Doomsdays come and go," Neron snarled at his mortal visitor. "Incursions from New Gods, the Black Sun... The heroes of Earth are accursedly good at pulling their world back from the brink. What makes you think this will be any different, Blood?"
Jason Blood held a slim black candle in both hands, the wick giving off greasy smoke. He stood before the throne of Hell, the fires from the skies outside reflecting in his own red eyes. He shrugged. "You know the answer to that as well as I do, Lord. They cannot fight this. It is utterly beyond them."
Neron snorted. "How do I know you're even telling me the truth? Show me the Eternity Book."
Jason did not flinch when he said, "I cannot, Lord. It was stolen. By the angel Asmodel."
A hiss escaped Neron and he roared to his feet, eyes flaring. Outside the palace, flames blazed higher and the screams of the damned peaked. "You dare to speak an angelic name in Hell...?"
A crooked smile twisted Jason's thin lips. "Where better, Lord?"
Neron's glare would have singed the skin off Blood had he been physically present, but Blood's form was merely an astral projection; it was no easy thing for a living man to go to hell, and even less easy to find his way out again. And for Jason Blood there were additional... complications.
As quickly as Neron's anger flared it abated. He may have been the Lord of Lies, but that didn't mean he couldn't see the truth for what it was... And he was beginning to see a remarkable opportunity.
"It would seem I have little choice," he stroked his chin, thinking furiously. Impossible ambitions filled his head. "It may, indeed, be the Hour of Neron, at long last..." His eyes raked Blood appraisingly. "You have done well to bring this to be, Jason Blood. A special place is reserved for you at my right hand when your mortal days are done."
Again, the smirk from the impudent mortal. "A dubious honor at best, Lord Neron. I think I will respectfully decline it."
Neron was not finished. "You speak thus at your immortal peril, knave," he spat. "Nevertheless, you served me well, and will serve me still. Though you may like it not." His gaze seized Jason's and would not relinquish it as he ground out the words with enough bite to draw blood. "Yarva daemonicus."
Jason's eyes widened but he was held fast by Neron's commanding gaze and the connection of the black candle; he could not look away.
From out of the shadows materialized a hulking being of yellowed, scaly skin, horns and a mouth of teeth like knives. It lumbered into Jason's view, cloaked in a tattered cape, its red eyes a mirror to Jason's own.
Neron's laugh was deep and mirthless. "Gone, gone the form of man," he intoned.
Unable to do aught else, Jason Blood's lips moved with Neron's, echoing the words in a rasping whisper: "Rise the demon, Etrigan..."
The demon vanished from Neron's throne room.
On the material plane, in a secret refuge, Jason Blood collapsed in the center of his chalk pentagram, the black candle rolling from his hand--- and he vanished, to be instantly replaced by the Demon.
Etrigan howled a gleeful cry of freedom, and bounded through the window in a spray of glass and hellfire.
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
The next morning, the chairwoman of the Wonder Women Foundation appeared before a joint committee of Congress. It was a packed chamber, and the galleries were filled not just with lobbyists and aides, but more than the usual amount of press and photographers.
The chair of the committee rapped his gavel for quiet, and got down to business. "Please state your name for the record, please."
She wore her hair up, plain round-framed lenses covered her violet eyes, glossy lipstick her only concession to makeup, and her apparel was all business. "Diana Prince," she said, leaning into the microphone. At the table by her side was a dark-haired woman with a short haircut; she was taking notes in a steno pad.
"And who is accompanying you, Ms. Prince?"
"This is my counsel, Jean Loring, of Loring Law."
Jean looked up briefly to acknowledge the introduction.
"Do you think you need a lawyer today, Ms. Prince? This is not really that sort of hearing."
At the comment, Jean leaned over to speak into the mic. "Senator, at present the Wonder Women Foundation is being sued by a number of special interest groups, several of which aggressively lobby members of this committee," she stared pointedly at the congressman directly to the chairman's left. "So as chief counsel for the organization, I insisted on being present."
The congressman Jean had pointed out was an unconventional-looking man. He was slightly pudgy, and his graying beard was plaited into elaborate braids. His lips pressed together in a sour expression and he glared back at the two women. His name plate read, "Rep. Maximillian Zeus, Gotham City District 13."
The chairman nodded and moved on. "Very well. Ms. Prince," he looked at her over his glasses. "You've come before this joint committee seeking official recognition status of the United States government for the Wonder Women Foundation. Why don't you begin by telling us what your organization does, exactly."
"I would be happy to, senator," Diana folded her hands atop the table in front of her, the image of composure. "The Wonder Women Foundation is dedicated to bringing our core principles of peace and truth to every corner of the world, promoting equality between the sexes and races, and spreading a message of tolerance and compassion for everyone. We hope to do this by harnessing the innate love and strength of women in all countries, but invite every father, son, and brother to stand with us. We have built schools, women's shelters, wells, farms, and housing for the under-privileged on five continents. We have interceded in war zones in South America, Africa and Asia, and assisted in every humanitarian relief effort of the last ten years. We are currently seeking to have our charter ratified by the United Nations, and hope we can expect the support of the United States of America."
"Thank you, Ms. Prince," the chairman shuffled some papers around, and looked almost embarrassed when he said, "The chair recognizes the congressman from Gotham City District 13."
Maxie Zeus wasted no time. He leaned into his microphone like a cat ready to pounce. "From whence, madam, do you derive these holier-than-thou core principles you so zealously espouse?"
Diana was prepared for his antipathy. She'd been thoroughly briefed by Jean. "They are the traditional beliefs of the Amazons of Themyscira."
"The Amazons!" Zeus slapped his hand on the table, as if making a point. "If it pleases the committee, it may be discerned from my name that I know a thing or two about Hellenic culture and history. These are the same warrior women par excellence mentioned in Aeschylus, Plutarch, and Herodotus as---and I quote..." He glanced down at the notes in front of him. "Androktones. Killers of men."
"Your sources are more than two thousand years old, congressman," Diana replied in a calm voice. "The Amazons of today take up arms only against the horrors of Doom's Doorway, which is located on Paradise Island."
Zeus was non-plussed. "And what do we even know about this Wonder Woman in whose honor your foundation is named? A warrior queen! By what right and authority does she rule her country? As an American, I'm not comfortable dealing with monarchical tyrants."
"Diana of Themyscira is no tyrant," Diana told him, with the first hint of ire creeping into her voice. "She inherited the right and authority to rule the Amazons through her mother Hippolyta, their first queen ordained by the goddesses Hestia, Demeter, Aphrodite, Artemis, and Athena. But again, congressman, your information is out of date. Wonder Woman abdicated her throne and abolished the hereditary monarchy several years ago. Themyscira is now governed by a ruling council of annually-elected archons."
"Goddesses!" Zeus snorted. "Does the Wonder Women Foundation preach the rites of pagan deities?"
"We neither preach nor practice any rites," Diana shook her head, trying to keep up with his irrational leaps of logic. "Just the opposite, in fact. We seek to free people from antiquated beliefs and religious prejudices---."
Jean laid a hand on her client's arm, and Diana fell silent, leaning backward to allow Jean the microphone.
"Mr. Chairman, I resent the adversarial tone of the congressman from Gotham City," Jean didn't bother to look at Zeus. "We are applying to this committee in good faith, and are willing to answer any questions, therefore I must insist on civility."
"Quite right, Ms. Loring," the chairman grunted and directed a warning glance at his colleague. "Let's not lose sight of what we're here for, Representative Zeus. Ms. Prince is not on trial."
"Assuredly not," Zeus seemed to take umbrage at being chastised. "In fact, we were not expecting the elusive chairwoman of the Wonder Woman Foundation to be here today at all, were we? We were expecting the Executive Director Doris Zeul. Where is Zeul today, madam?"
Diana was prepared for the question. "Doctor Zeul," she stressed Doris' title, "As you are no doubt already aware, congressman, is currently in protective custody with Checkmate."
"Doris Zeul is the metahuman known as Giganta who went on a rampage on the National Mall last Monday?"
"If you are implying that Dr. Zeul is a criminal, I will remind you that she has already been pardoned by President Waller, and has served as the driving force behind the WWF's humanitarian initiatives since its inception. We are not sure what caused the her to lose control of her powers, but she is getting the help she needs."
"Checkmate..." Zeus mulled the word. "That's the multinational peace-keeping force headed by retired USAF general Steve Trevor, isn't it?"
"Yes it is."
"And General Trevor is your husband?"
"Yes."
Jean Loring leaned into the microphone, "Mister Chairman," the exasperation in her voice was loud and clear. "As you said yourself, Diana Prince is not on trial here."
The chairman opened his mouth to speak, but Maxie Zeus rushed into the gap. "Assuredly not," he repeated, snappishly. "I was just exploring the links between two far-reaching NGOs operating on U.S. soil with no allegiance to the American people or government, yet demanding their sanction. Not an unreasonable line of questioning, Mr. Chairman."
The chairman nodded, but didn't look across at the two women.
"Even more disconcerting is that the WWF has not disclosed its financial statements," Zeus pressed on. "Other than the formerly clandestine Checkmate, and the warrior women of Paradise Island," he made quotation marks with his fingers, "What other foreign governments and shadowy organizations is the WWF beholden to?"
"The Wonder Woman Foundation is beholden to nothing, except our core principles," Diana did her best not to rise to the bait. "While we sometimes work with Checkmate--- and also Doctors With Borders, the International Red Cross, and the World Health Organization--- we are not affiliated with any of them. We are funded by donations from private parties from all over the world."
"Oh, that is not in dispute at all," Zeus shook his fist in the air, his eyes wide and a little feverish. "What I want to know is how many converts you have in America!"
Diana frowned. ""Converts, congressman?
"Converts, Ms. Prince! Like Holly Robinson, in my own district. A former child-prostitute and a convicted felon, who runs one of your lovely women's shelters--- not to mention a known associate of criminals and a sexual deviant!"
"That's enough!" Jean Loring got to her feet, and spoke so loudly she didn't need the mic. "Congressman Zeus obviously has an ax to grind here, and it's clear my client will be unable to get a fair hearing---."
"That shelter is a haven for prostitutes, drug addicts, and lesbians!" Zeus shouted in a shrill voice.
The chairman rapped his gavel several times for order, but the galleries were abuzz with the congressman's outburst.
"Outrageous, Mr. Chairman, absolutely beyond the pale," Jean Loring was furious, jabbing her finger at Zeus, who was trying to talk over her. "It is well-known that Maxie Zeus is a member of the reprehensible Glorious Crusade movement founded by New Gods from Apokolips solely to discredit Wonder Woman and everything she stands for. How the hell do people like him even get elected in this country---?"
The hearing had degenerated into chaos. Diana sat back in her chair with a sigh of disgust. She could see now that her enemies had accomplished their goal: the hearing had turned into a political circus, and the good work of the Wonder Women Foundation was in jeopardy.
Suddenly, the entire Capitol shook, as if the building had been caught in an earthquake. All the chatter in the chamber instantly ceased. People stood, arms splayed to regain balance, looking around in surprise. Even Maxie Zeus clapped his mouth shut, waiting for the other shoe to drop...
Then something manifested in the center of the chamber, cutting itself from the hole it had torn in reality. Light flared bright enough to burn, causing every face to turn away. Only Diana Prince was able to endure the sight, looking sidelong, shielding her eyes with one hand.
Clad in a nimbus of unbearable brightness was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His features were indistinct, her mind could not quite grasp them, but it still stabbed at her heart. He was clad in armor of shining gold, wore a curiously designed helm, and wings like Hawkman's were tucked behind his back. On his hip was buckled a sword.
"Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve," his voice reverberated as if layered a hundred times over. Though it was melodious, eardrums burst from the sound of his voice, causing people to fall to the ground, arms over their head, bleeding and crying. "Your wickedness is an abomination in the sight of the Lord, and behold I am His wrath." He drew his sword, and as he held it aloft, it burst into red flame. "Surrender to me the Wonder Woman, and prolong your days a while longer. Keep her from me, and know swift, merciless judgment."
But no one in the chamber was capable of answering the angel. Most everyone was screaming, and pushing others aside to flee. All but one.
Diana stood before the buffeting force of the angel, shielding Jean from the brunt of his overwhelming presence. Her head pounded, but she withstood him, gritting her teeth.
"Who are you to pass judgment?" She yelled over the carillon in her head, over the tumult of the panicking chamber.
His gaze fell upon her like a blow, nailing her to the spot. She felt laid bare, as if every secret she had was exposed to him.
"Wonder Woman," the angel sang, triumph in his voice. "I have seen your name writ in the Book of Eternity. In three days you will commit the Unforgivable Sin. This must not come to pass. Therefore, your life is forfeit. I return you now to the clay that formed you."
The angel moved with blinding speed. In the blink of an eye, he was upon Diana, his sword cleaving down in a flash of flame. The clang of the impact rang throughout the chamber. Diana had managed to raise her arms, criss-crossed, to catch the blade between the silver bracelets on her wrists. Heavenly energy emanated from him in waves, blasting her, shredding her clothes, knocking off her glasses and blowing back her hair. She stood revealed in the armor of the Amazon Champion, her secret identity exposed to the panicked people fleeing the chamber.
"What. In the name. Of all the gods! Are you--- DOING?" Wonder Woman jerked her arms apart and shattered the fiery blade between her bracelets.
The angel reared back at the destruction of his weapon, something akin to surprise on his smooth, beautiful features. His wings flared out, and they were an awesome sight, larger than they appeared, lifting him off the ground. Wonder Woman could only stare in open-mouthed awe at the spectacle of it. His wingspan filled the chamber.
"To fulfill the plan of the Lord God Almighty, Wonder Woman must die." Sang the angel, and he flung his arms wide. A blast of concussive force exploded from him. Just in time, Wonder Woman threw herself atop Jean Loring, shielding her from the blow, but many others weren't as lucky. The power of the angel's will flattened everything around him, shattered wood and glass, pulping flesh and bone; those not under cover were killed instantly, including several members of Congress--- though not Maxie Zeus, who cowered behind a battered wall of oak desks and chairs. The roof and walls of the chamber were blown out, as if a hurricane had erupted from within.
Not waiting for a second detonation, Wonder Woman flew straight at him. Her double-fisted blow caught him amid-section, and the force of her momentum drove him backward. They smashed through the upper levels of the Capitol, plowing through floors of government offices.
"Damn you!" Wonder Woman said through gritted teeth, pushing the angel back and up at the point of her fists. "How can you claim to be a messenger of god and yet kill all those people?"
Surprised by her attack, the angel recovered himself, and increased his mass, halting their flight. He reached down, and seized Wonder Woman's wrists in one hand, wrenching her up to his face.
"The Almighty is merciful, woman of clay. Question not His plan for this world." He yanked her aside by her wrists as if she were a doll, and smashed her against a wall, crumbling masonry and wood around her. "And in His mercy, He has decreed that you must be destroyed." He raised her up, dangling her before him, dazed and limp. He raised his other hand, clenched in a fist.
"No," she said, kicking out with both feet together. The blow caught the angel off-guard, and he dropped her, staggering back.
The momentary respite was all Wonder Woman needed to gather herself. She swung her golden lasso over her head and flung it at him, loping it around his neck like a garrote. The angel's hands seized at it reflexively, but he was kept off balance when she yanked back with all her might, sweeping him through the air. A cry of exertion escaped her as she used the momentum to smash him through a wall. She continued to spin, pounding him into the floor, the ceiling, into every solid surface, keeping him stunned.
"Enough."
The angel managed to curl the links of the lasso around his massive hand, and he pulled, jerking her off her feet. But she wouldn't let, go, even as he continued to loop the lasso around his fist, dragging her toward him on her belly. When she was close enough, he put a sandaled foot on the small of her back, pressing her flat against the ground. Wonder Woman squirmed but could not break away. She felt the pressure on her spine increasing exponentially every second; in a moment, it would snap.
"Why? she demanded, lifting her head, tears swimming in her eyes.
The angel's face was impassive as he pressed downward with his foot. And with the Lasso of Truth looped around him, he could not lie: "Because the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Eve have made of the Earth naught but a battleground for Chaos and Order, and have therefore forfeited their inheritance. The Lord God Almighty has decreed that the world should be unmade lest the Great Disaster unmake all of His Creation."
The shock of the words vied with the relentless pressure of his crushing foot. God wanted to destroy the world...?
She summoned every ounce of remaining strength, propped her arms beneath her, but she couldn't budge. Darkness swam before her eyes. Her spine was on the verge of breaking.
"When mortals incite heaven's ire, angel beware the Demon's fire!"
A wave of flame engulfed Diana's vision and the killing pressure on her back was gone. Gasping, she rolled over to see the angel spiraling backward, covered in hellfire, his multitudinous voice rising in a shriek. Her rescuer was a horrid sight, but a familiar one: Etrigan the Demon.
"Horn of the Ram, Asmodel of the Fifth Host," Etrigan sprang up and swiped his claws across the angel's chest, drawing blood. Asmodel continued to burn and scream. "Courtesy of the damned, meet your Holy Ghost!" Another gush of hellfire erupted from Etrigan's mouth, and Asmodel was fully aflame.
His wings outspread, the angel shot upward bursting from the U.S. Capitol Building. He arced over Washington, D.C., across blood-red skies, his piteous howls shattering windows, bursting pipes and setting off alarms all over the city. Like a comet, Asmodel achieved escape velocity and winked out of sight.
Reeling from her fight with the angel, Wonder Woman climbed to her feet amidst the shambles of the U.S. Capitol. Little fires burned all around her, setting off sprinklers and shedding smoke. Klaxons blared, but all she could see was the Demon staring at her with red, glowing eyes.
"When Heaven turns against thee, Amazon, turn thou to Hell and the Lord Neron," Etrigan stretched out a hand to her, scaled, yellow, and clawed. She stared at it, aghast. "Come now, the hour is late. When love fails, turn to hate."
"No," she said in a firm voice. "Never."
Etrigan laughed, and it was a horrible sound. Before he could say anything, they were interrupted by a squad of Capitol Police rushing towards them.
"No, don't shoot---"
But it was too late. Gunshots resounded and bullets slammed into Etrigan. The Demon snarled and with one mighty bound, leapt out through the hole in the roof, leaving behind him only destruction and the whiff of brimstone.
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
The aftermath proved almost as damaging as the attack. Miraculously, Maxie Zeus had survived, and was already holding a press conference on the steps of the Capitol, even as emergency teams rushed in to fight the fires, find survivors and tend to the wounded.
"A very angel of the Lord God! I would not believe it myself if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes," Zeus ranted, gesticulating wildly, spittle flying from his mouth. He looked insane, but he played to every camera, and his face was on every TV, laptop, and mobile device in America within minutes. "Security footage of the chamber will show it all. He accused her, Diana Prince--- Wonder Woman, hiding in plain sight all this time!--- of the most heinous, most unforgivable sins, and declared that he'd been sent to destroy her. The Lord God Almighty Himself wants her dead! I know of no greater indictment of this damned Foundation than that! The harlot provokes heaven and heaven comes with fire and sword to---."
"Turn it off," Steve Trevor growled. He stalked into the conference room of Castle White, his inner circle waiting for him. Many in the White King's Court were scattered across the world battling the catastrophes of what was now being called "the Great Disaster" but these three were his most trusted comrades.
The VR display over the table went black and winked out of existence.
"Steve, what the living hell is happening?" Asked the White Queen, Katrina Armstrong. In another life, she had revived her grandfather's superheroic legacy as Spy Smasher, but had left that behind after being recruited by Steve for Checkmate.
"Hell is right," Steve grumbled, taking his place at the head of the table. "I just spoke to Diana," his wife's identity was no secret to these three. "And I can hardly believe what she told me."
"That fool Zeus has obviously got it wrong," asserted the White King's Rook, Christopher Chance. The man once known as the Human Target was standing by his chair and seemed anxious to throw himself into action somewhere.
"I'm afraid he's got it more right than wrong, Chris," Steve let out an exasperated breath. "Diana said the angel tried to kill her on orders from--- and I can't believe I'm saying this--- God. She said they wanted her dead because in three days she's supposed to do..." Steve was obviously having a hard time with this. "Something bad." He finished with a lame shrug.
"Where is Wonder Woman now?" asked the last member of their triumvirate, a cerebral-looking man with a pencil-thin moustache named Darwin Jones.
"Searching for answers," Steve was not more forthcoming because he didn't really know. She had kissed him like she was saying goodbye, then flew away. But Steve Trevor would be damned if that was the last time he saw his wife. "In the meantime, we have our own job to do. I don't care what that angel said, or that the Demon is rampaging in the halls of Congress, we're going to back-up Diana. And not because she's my wife, but because she's Wonder Woman, and every action she's ever taken since she first left Paradise Island has been to save us, sometimes even from ourselves. Checkmate, at least, won't let her down, even if we have to fight Heaven and Hell. If anyone here has a problem with that, tell me now."
"We're with you, Steve," Katrina laid a hand over his. "And we're with Diana."
"Damn straight," muttered Christopher Chance.
Darwin Jones leaned forward on his elbows, nodding. "Say the word, general, and Checkmate will stand ready."
Pride flushed his cheeks. But Steve didn't have time to indulge the feeling. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and took the plunge. "Good. Then scramble all forces for Operation Endgame. Checkmate is going to war."
WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
Wonder Woman needed more information--- what she knew only confused her--- but the Demon proved impossible to track. Jason Blood's apartment in Gotham was a crime scene, and a quick call to Zatanna had also turned up nothing. Heaven wanted her dead, and Hell wanted her soul: she was willing to give in to neither.
This was too big. Though she hadn't been an active member for years, she had resolved to take this to the Justice League. Besides, once a Leaguer...
There was a transporter tube in Gotham; maybe her problems would look clearer 23,000 miles above the wracked planet. As she streaked across the sky, the storm clouds that were omnipresent since the crisis began, seemed to crowd around her, to get thicker. They were tinged with red from the weird lightning that crackled so frequently now. A deep foreboding filled her. Not for the first time in recent days, she wished she could call upon her gods, but the Olympians had long since departed this plane, moving onto to whatever next phase of existence was reserved for forgotten gods and goddesses.
She swooped out of the clouds, down towards Gotham. But she could not see the lights of the city now. In fact, all that was below her was a stretch of gray landscape, dotted with only dead trees. Something strange was happening.
She touched down, bewildered at the profound silence all around her. Even the storm clouds were gone, and the night sky above her was filled with stars in patterns she did not recognize.
"Hola!" She called out, and her voice echoed across the universe as if she were its only occupant.
For a moment, she wondered if Hell had found her, creeped-up on her somehow... But she felt none of the hopelessness or sorrow she associated with Lord Neron's realm, just a vast emptiness.
Then she heard a voice calling her name.
She followed the sound of it, walking cautiously down a path lined with smooth stones, like markers. The path led her gradually up an incline, and into a labyrinth of gnarled, tortured trees.
"Wonder Woman..."
The voice was deep and sonorous. Not menacing, though it sounded as if it came from the depths of a sepulcher. She followed it to a spot where many paths converged in a bower of weeds and ivy. There waited a man in a purple robe, with the hood drawn up to cover his eyes. In his hands was a large and antique book, a chain running from it to his right wrist.
"Wonder Woman." He repeated, like an affirmation.
She kept her distance. "Who are you?"
"It matters not who I am," came the hollow voice of the man. She saw his lips moving, but the voice seemed to be coming from every corner of the weird garden. "Though some call me Destiny, for in my Book is written everything that was, is, and is yet to be. The questions in your heart have called you here, to the Garden of Forking Ways. But I warn you: beware the answers, for truth oft is a double-edge sword."
Diana stared at the book in his hands: it was open to the last page. She faced the hooded man squarely, and said, "I don't fear the truth. Tell me: what is happening?"
"It is called the Great Disaster," said the man, and a chill ran up her spine, hearing the term Asmodel used. " The balance between Chaos and Order has been upset, and the Lords have gone to war. It will consume the earth and spread out into the cosmos until all the universe is swallowed by the contest. It has happened before. I have seen the graveyard of universes. Behold---." He raised one arm and gestured to the sky.
Above her the sky was suddenly aswirl with images her mind could barely contain. Beings of complexity beyond conception and otherworldly beauty and horror encompassed the heavens, flaring and banking, some in triumph, some in agony. She sensed no goodness or evil, but a profound predatory apathy, as of dragons thrashing over an anthill.
She gasped, staggered by the immensity of it all. When she could speak again, she asked, "How can I stop it?"
"Stop it?" Destiny's voice was disdainful. "How do you stop light from making shadow? How do you stop up from creating down? You cannot stop it. The question between them must be settled once and for all."
Destiny lowered his arm, and the images faded. The night sky was clear again, but somewhere was a war that was shredding reality, and the scene was burned into her mind.
"But why? Why must the world suffer...?" It was too much to take in. Her mind was struggling to correlate all she had just seen without shutting down.
"The Lords of Chaos and Order care not at all for the wrack of the world. Its fate is but a trifling consequence to their aeons-long struggle. The great tragedy of the Earth is that the end will begin here. Therefore to forestall that dire event, the Earth must die."
At first she wasn't sure she had heard correctly. Was Destiny passing judgment on the world simply because it had become the battleground for the Chaos and Order War?
"Even now," intoned Destiny, "The fabric of reality is unwinding. Yet the catastrophes tearing the Earth asunder are being caused not by the Lords, but by its maker cutting out a cancer. The very Creator is sacrificing one world to save a multitude."
The words pinned Diana to the spot. The words echoed what the angel Asmodel had said, under the aegis of her lasso. The truth cut her to the bone, and lodged in her soul.
God was ending the world.
She had said she didn't fear the truth, but she had never been more afraid in her life.
"Then why..." her voice failed, strangled off by emotion. Lyta. Steve. Donna. Cassie. Their faces swam before her mind's eye, and she found her voice again. "Why kill me first?"
"Because, Diana," intoned Destiny holding out the book chained to his wrist. "Woman formed of clay, created not by the Presence, but by the spirits of love and peace, a Creator may not be slain by his Creation."
For a moment the words did not register. Then the full import of them sank in and they drove Diana to her knees. When she looked up, her face streaked with tears, her shoulders shaking with sobs, and the truth cleaving her heart and soul into pieces, Destiny was looking down on her with something like pity.
As if reading the pain in her eyes, he said, "Truth is truth, it is neither good nor evil. It simply is." He drew her up, then stepped aside to reveal to her a small stone pillar, atop of which were placed arms and armor. "Before Athena departed this plane, she gave these into my keeping saying, One day my champion shall be the champion of all, for only she will have the courage to do what no one else can or will. This, then, is my final gift to her..."
With the taste of ashes in her mouth, Wonder Woman accepted the last gift of Olympus. And when she was clad in golden armor, she raised Athena's own sword into the air and let out such a cry of grief and terror and outrage that it carried from Destiny's garden across the cosmos, to vie with the storms that wracked the earth, echoing in the halls of Neron's Hell, and finally to resound with all her passion against the very gates of Heaven...
Lyta Trevor woke with a start.
The little girl was drenched in sweat and tangled in her covers. Breaths came in hoarse gasps, and her heart felt like it would gallop out of her chest. She thought she had heard her mother cry out... Surely it had been a dream?
Throwing off her sheets, she got out of bed and padded to the open window. The view from her bedchamber was magnificent: all of Themyscira lay sprawled out below her, peaceful and quiet at such a late hour. And beyond, gentle waves lapped the shores of Paradise Island. Only the sky was troubled, rumbling with an ominous storm.
She was safe. Always close by to guard her, Euboea slept in the next room; Lyta could hear the sound of her respiration.
Just a dream...
Then something stepped out of the shadows.
"If mother won't help of her own free will," came a sibilant whisper. The figure was hulking and clad in a tattered cape. Its eyes glowed, revealing the leering face of the Demon. "Then daughter must do, for good or for ill!"
Before Lyta could scream, his scaled hand covered her mouth and he whisked her away to Hell.
TO BE CONCLUDED!