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Chapter Text

I did not belong in Man’s World. I could stand it no longer; I had to return to Themyscira. Not least of which because I still held the Lasso of Truth; sooner or later, someone would come for it, and I would be executed; both for my treason, and for my blasphemy. But if I were killed, then no one else would know of the Savage; there would be no preparation  for his eventual arrival.

And he will arrive. I have been far too unlucky for that threat to have been empty; I can only pray that it comes after I am gone, when I have already done all I can to prepare my country for invasion. 

If I was to prepare my country for the Savage, then I needed power. If I was to have power, then I needed to keep my head. If I was to keep my head, then I needed a plan.

And it was a terrible plan…

It had been two years since the end of the war. The United States had risen above all other nations on Earth and become the first nuclear power, and it was thought that their chief rival, the Soviet Union, would not be caught up for decades. The terrible evils that had been allowed to fester and grow in Germany, Italy, and Japan had been vanquished. Italy and Japan were being rebuilt, and Germany the same, though it was now divided. The world was slowly stitching itself back together after nearly a decade of bitter and destructive conflict, and across the planet, the words on everyone’s lips were the same: “Thank God, the war is over!”

There was jubilation in the streets. The Justice Society had been part of massive parades in New York, London, Paris, Chicago, Washington, and San Francisco. All across the globe, people were happy.

And after it was over, everyone had… gone home. Jay returned to Nebraska, to his home in Keystone City. Right after he got home, he asked Joan to marry him; they had all been invited to the wedding. It was a beautiful ceremony.

Alan had started a newspaper in Metropolis, calling it the Daily Planet. It was a modest thing for now, but she suspected it would soon grow to overtake its rivals in the city. 

Kent had returned to his duties as a Lord of Order, mainly holding up around his tower in Salem, but he made frequent trips to other places of mystical importance; the Himalayas, the Middle East, the forests of Europe, and especially New Orleans. Though, Hippolyta suspected he travelled to New Orleans for reasons other than work.

Chuck went back to his practice in Detroit. Carter took a job as a curator of Egyptian artifacts at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Ted Knight still worked for the government in Los Alamos, taking his assistant Al Pratt with him. Rex had started a pharmaceutical company in Albany. Wesley returned to Cleveland, and took up philanthropy to help rebuild Europe after the war. The Spectre, still wounded from their battle with Degaton, retreated from the material plane and watched over the cosmos from afar. Ted Grant had returned home and opened a gym in Gotham. Johnny Thunder… went back to whatever it was that Johnny Thunder did.

Everyone was moving on. Everyone, it seemed, was happy.

But not Hippolyta. An Amazon without her powers. A princess without her kingdom. A stranger in a strange land. She wanted to go home; she must go home. To protect her people, to return the Lasso, to save herself from having to live in isolation. Any explanation she could tell herself to justify what she was about to do.

It wasn’t truly that she hated Man’s World; she had seen the good in it. She had made… friends. But she had also seen the horror, the contempt, the violence and rage and chaos. For the first time, she understood her foremothers and their choice to withdraw Themyscira from the world; Men, though physically inferior to Amazons, were a terrifying threat. Especially when united.

If they put their minds to it, they could easily destroy Themyscira. Especially now that she knew of their shared weakness.

She lay awake at night, feeling cold, and so, so alone. She felt bare, and vulnerable. Once, she had tried to seek comfort in the arms of the one whom she had shared the most with already, and though Wildcat was willing, he could tell that as desperately as she wanted companionship, she was uncomfortable through the whole affair.

He had stopped, and had asked her if she really wanted to do this.

She could not give an answer.

And that was that.

She felt badly about how it had ended; Wildcat was a wonderful friend, and a mighty, honorable warrior. He deserved better than what she had to offer him, and did not deserve to have his heart toyed with. But ever since losing her abilities, ever since Wildeheim, she had felt incomplete. She supposed she had tried to distract herself with Wildcat, and they had both paid the price.

She cared for him, but she did not love him. So now, rather than remain in Gotham with him, she took up residence in the JSA’s disused brownstone building in New York. Carter paid her occasional visits, but he was busy at the museum. She spent most of her time in her bed, listening to cars and people on the street, staring at the ceiling and missing her home.

The Lasso of Truth sat hanging on her wall, mocking her. An ever-present reminder of her failure to do something so basic as return it home safely. How could she return to Themyscira as she was? How could she convince her mother to prepare for an invasion that may not materialize for centuries? How could she even begin to explain any of the things that had happened to her while in Man’s World?

She had strong convictions at the time, but some days she started to view coming to Man’s World as a mistake. Why did she risk her life, put one of the heirlooms of her country in danger, all just to save a handful of unlucky Men?

She hated those days. They always made her feel the most guilty afterwards.

So now, she lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She had wrapped herself in a cocoon of blankets, perhaps in a vain attempt at emulating the tight feeling of a hug, but more likely simply giving herself an excuse to say that getting out of bed would be too difficult. A fan listed lazily in the corner of the room, sunlight filtered in from outside. When the entire JSA had been in the brownstone, on the rare occasions that it had happened, there was usually music floating through the halls from the record player in the foyer. Now, everything stood still and lifeless. It was less like a home and more like a tomb. Hippolyta grimaced as she felt her stomach rumble; she couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten. 

Then again, she couldn’t bring herself to get up and cook. 

The kitchens of Man’s World didn’t like her, anyway.

She couldn’t have been sure how long she had been lying in her bed with the Lasso mocking her, perhaps a few days, when the doorbell at the front of the JSA brownstone rang. Hippolyta continued to stay in her cocoon of blankets.

The doorbell rang again. She groaned and turned over in her bed, shouting at the top of her lungs, “ NO SOLICITORS!! ”

“ Princess, please come to the door! ” a familiar voice cried back, floating through the window, and Hippolyta opened her eyes in shock. She knew that voice…

In an instant, possessed by a newfound sense of urgency, she kicked herself out of her bed cocoon and ran to the window, hauling it up and leaning out to gaze down at the street below, where down on the sidewalk, standing at the door was a tall, broad-shouldered woman with dark skin tanned by the sun, her black hair pulled into braids on her head, wearing an Amazon tunic.

Hippolyta stared in astonishment at her friend. “ Philippus!? ” she cried incredulously, and her lifelong companion looked up to see her. 

“ Princess! ” she cried happily, waving up at her, “ I bring news! ”

Hippolyta blinked. What was Philippus doing in New York? How did she find her? How did she even leave Themyscira??

“ Wait there, I’ll come to you! ” Hippolyta cried down to her, then immediately fled from her room and bounded down the stairs, crossing the foyer in record time and flinging open the front door as fast as she could. Two years ago, such recklessness could’ve actually ripped the door off its hinges, but with her strength gone she didn’t have to worry about such things any longer. Small blessings.

On the other side of the door, looking extremely out of place on the bustling streets of New York City, was her faithful Philippus, and the Amazon smiled. “Princess,” she greeted, going to one knee in salute, but Hippolyta couldn’t bear it.

Trying to hold back tears, she hauled Philippus to her feet and drew her into a tight hug, pulling her close. It was partly just to hug her old friend again, but mainly to hide the fact that as she did so, the tears began to flow freely. To her relief, after a brief moment of surprise, Philippus returned the embrace. “It is good to see you too, Your Highness,” she said softly, slight amusement in her tone, but mostly relief. 

After a little while longer, as Hippolyta tried to compose herself, she finally withdrew, keeping her hands on Philippus’s shoulders as she regarded the other woman. “Philippus!” she said, her heart melting at getting to speak her name once more, “My dearest friend! How are you here? How did you find me?”

“I traveled far and wide, Highness,” she explained, retrieving a newspaper clipping from her satchel bag, “But it seems that tales of the Justice Society and their ‘Wonder Woman’ have spread throughout Man’s World. You were not hard to locate, the only difficulty was in reaching you.”

Upon inspection, the newspaper appeared to be in Greek, but it featured a wartime photograph of the JSA, a portrait taken in front of their brownstone for the anniversary of their foundation. It had been January then, there was snow on the ground in the picture, and she remembered that they had all hated having to be taken off the front lines and shipped back to the States for it, but the boys in the propaganda bureau had said it would boost morale on the homefront. Hippolyta smiled down at it; perhaps the hassle had been worth it, if it had brought Philippus to her.

“I first came ashore in Crete, I was intending to head for Knossos,” Philippus explained, holding Hippolyta’s shoulders in return and smiling warmly, “But I suppose things change in six thousand years. There was no Knossos, but the local people pointed me toward another city, Heraklion, where I could book passage on a ship to their city of Athens. While I was there, I saw someone holding this portrait of you! I interrogated him, and though there was a language barrier and an altercation with the guards, I managed to figure out you were in a place called New York! So I returned to the ferrymen and booked passage to here!”

Philippus smiled as she looked into Hippolyta’s eyes. “It was a long journey,” she admitted, “But it appears to have been worth it.”

“And I am glad you’ve returned to me,” Hippolyta said happily, taking her old friend by the shoulders to get a better look at her, “But Philippus my friend, why did you make it? What possessed you to leave Themyscira?”

As she asked the question, the look on Philippus’s face grew immediately more somber, the triumph of having found her destination overshadowed by whatever grave tidings she bore. “Hippolyta,” Philippus said sadly, “I am sorry to be the one to tell you, but if it must be anyone, then I am glad it is me. Queen Otrera is dead.”

Hippolyta felt something hollow stir in her chest. Her mother… dead? She knew it would have to happen at some point, but… now? While she was so far from home? 

She wouldn’t even get to say goodbye?

“Hippolyta, I can’t imagine what this must be like for you, but you must remember you are the Princess,” Philippus continued, pulling her back to the present, “Upon the death of the Queen, you are the heir to the throne.”

“But the journey from Athens to New York takes weeks,” Hippolyta countered, “How long has Themyscira been without a queen?”

Philippus pursed her lips. Hippolyta frowned. “Philippus?” she asked again.

“Themyscira is not without a queen, Highness,” she explained slowly, “While you have been gone, Otrera told the people that you had fallen ill, and that the Lasso was being used to heal you. Now that she is dead, and you have not been seen in public in four years, the Oracle authorized moving down the line of succession. I left mere days before they were to coronate your sister, Antiope.”

Hippolyta grew very still as the news sunk in. Antiope, her little sister, was now the queen. Her mother was dead. And the story was that she herself was deathly ill, and had been for the past four years. At least she would not have to explain what had happened to the Lasso. But it was only a matter of time until Antiope, now Queen of the Amazons, would ask why she could not see her sister, or why the Lasso had been kept from the public eye for so long. 

Then another thought occurred. “Philippus…” she said carefully, “Does Antiope know I am in Man’s World?”

Philippus grew even more uncomfortable, if that was possible. “As far as I can tell, Your Highness… no. She believes you are being sequestered in the mountain to facilitate your healing.”

Hippolyta’s eyes darkened as a terrible plan began to take shape. Otrera was dead; Antiope was queen. Hippolyta held the Lasso. Hippolyta knew of the impending invasion. Antiope didn’t know she was in Man’s World. The Amazons simply thought she was ill, and had ben passed over for succession. The JSA owed her a favor.

She could do this.

She had seen the ruins of Nagasaki and Hiroshima; she had seen what the weapons of Men could do. She had seen the horrors of what they were now coming to call the Holocaust, and knew of their callousness and capacity for evil. She had seen Alan Scott try to take his own life, and knew of their confounding habit for self-destruction. She had seen far, far too much of Man’s World. All she had wanted to do was the right thing; to spare innocent people from unjust execution.

But that had been a younger Hippolyta, a more naive princess playing warrior on her island. Now, she had actually been to war. She knew what it meant. Now, she understood that oftentimes ruthlessness was mercy upon ourselves. 

So as she stood there, reunited at last with her culture, with her people and her family, she came to a decision. She would remain in Man’s World no longer. She would return home. And now, she had a plan as to how to do it.

“Philippus,” she said seriously, looking her old friend in the eye, “What are your thoughts on treason?”

There was the sound of rushing wind as papers scattered around them, and Hippolyta looked up from the section of granite she had decided to stare at.

“Aw, hell ,” Jay muttered as he tipped his helmet up to clear his vision, “I knew I’d be the last one here!”

Hippolyta did not smile, but she did nod as the speedster arrived, completing their group. The others had arrived already, sitting around their round table. She had put out a call to reassemble them; it was the first part of her plan. The next part was convincing them.

“Took you long enough!” Carter scoffed, sitting cross-legged with his helmet on the table in front of him, “What reason does a man who can run at the speed of sound have for being late?”

“I was busy, alright? What do you want from me?” Jay protested, taking his seat, and from the back of the room, two green eyes glowed with the light of hellfire. 

“ Oh, come on, Jay, ” The Spectre muttered blithely, “ Even I beat you here, and I’ve been busy watching over the vast eternity of the universe. What’s your excuse? ”

Jay huffed as he sat down, setting his helmet in front of him. “I’ve been busy with my wife, Jim,” he muttered, though there was a pleased blush on his face when he said it. Jay and Joan had been married for two years, but apparently there was still some pleasant novelty in being husband and wife. Hippolyta was happy for them.

“Now that you are all here, I suppose we ought to get started,” she began, and the Justice Society all turned to her, standing by her seat at the table, all assembled in their brownstone headquarters in New York for the first time since the war. They had taken a picture with their brand new marble round table, given to them by Winston Churchill. The photographer had told them it would go in a textbook someday. She looked each of them in the eye, one at a time, trying to commit their faces to memory. After all, if her plan worked, she wouldn’t see them again for the rest of her life.

“I am planning my return to Themyscira,” she told them seriously, “And I need your help.”

“A return to Themyscira?” Wildcat asked instantly, then just as quickly grew uncomfortable, “But Polly, what about… y’know… your condition?”

Hippolyta grimaced at the mention of her condition. A rather polite way of putting losing a part of herself. “I have a plan,” she said simply, “It will make my condition a non-issue.”

“I was under the impression that the Amazons were a warrior culture,” Wesley interrupted, pushing up his glasses from where they had shifted down his nose, “What plan could possibly null the loss of your abilities? Don’t they place physical strength above all else?”

Hippolyta grimaced again. Sandman wasn’t incorrect, and that was part of why his words hurt. She knew he was only trying to understand, but she had thought this over enough to know it would work. That it must work.

“Physical ability is an important part of Amazon culture, yes,” Hippolyta acquiesced, “But it is not everything. Once you have proven yourself worthy of respect, then you have your place for the foreseeable future. All I need is a position of authority, and the people will follow me.”

“So, what?” Jay went on, furrowing his brow in confusion, “You want us to vouch for you or something? I mean, we’re more than willing, Polly, but I’m not sure how far a Man’s word is going to go in Themyscira.”

“That is why you won’t be speaking as Men,” Hippolyta countered, and she took a steadying breath before she went on, “You will be speaking as gods.”

The JSA looked at her for a very long time. “Polly…” Wildcat said seriously, leaning forward in his chair, “Just what exactly are you asking us to do?”

Hippolyta pursed her lips, then looked back over her shoulder to the closed door beyond. “Philippus, could you come in, please?” she called, and as the JSA stirred in confusion, they erupted in shock as her attendant came into the room.

“ Woah! How long has she been there!?” Jay cried, standing up out of his chair.

“How did she get off Themyscira!?” Kent asked as well, putting a nervous hand on his helmet.

“Fuck that, how did she get to New York!? ” Chuck countered.

“Yeah, uh, who is this, exactly?” Johnny Thunder asked blandly, as he hadn’t been a part of the team that had initially gone to Themyscira in the first place.

“Johnny, this is Philippus, Hippolyta’s handmaiden while she was on Themyscira,” Kent explained to the newer member, “She helped us cover for Hippolyta’s disappearance after we escaped the island. We were all under the impression that we wouldn’t see her again, and certainly not in New York!”

“ Enough! ” Hippolyta cried, holding up a hand for silence, “Philippus can speak for herself.”

Philippus nodded, then drew herself up to a military parade-rest stance as she addressed the table. “Justice Society, it is a pleasure to see you again,” she began, “I come with grave tidings from Themyscira. Queen Otrera is dead, and Hippolyta’s sister, Antiope, is the new queen. However, she cannot be properly coronated without the Lasso of Truth.”

“... Which we still have because we took it to make sure you weren’t interrogated!” Wildcat realized, “ Fuck! How do we fix it? How do we get Antiope the Lasso?”

“We’re not giving Antiope the Lasso,” Hippolyta explained, and the table looked at her as though she had grown a second head. 

“I’m sorry, maybe I’m lost, but I thought this was all leading into us helping you get back to Themyscira, where you present your sister the Lasso in exchange for a full pardon,” Jay said uncertainly, “Is that not what’s happening here?”

“ No, it’s not, ” The Spectre responded, speaking up for the first time since Jay had arrived, and the spirit fixed Hippolyta with an intense glare from his hellish green eyes, “ Antiope’s the younger sister, isn’t she? You don’t just want to go back to Themyscira. You want to be Queen. ”

Hippolyta shifted for a moment as the realization sunk in around the table. Now was the delicate moment that could make or break the JSA’s support. “It is my right,” she began, and Mid-Nite raised an eyebrow.

“A lot of people have claimed rule to be their ‘right’,” he muttered, “There’ve been a scarce few who’ve actually been correct.”

Hippolyta nodded in acknowledgement. “I understand your trepidation--” she tried again, but Alan scoffed from where he sat.

“ Trepidation!? ” he asked, “Hippolyta, you’re talking about overthrowing the ruler of a sovereign nation! And your sister, to boot! I think we’re all past the point of trepidation. ”

“ Antiope cannot be Queen! ” Hippolyta snapped, standing up in a rage, and the JSA fell silent, either intimidated or just allowing her to say her piece; she couldn’t be sure which it was. “Not without the Lasso,” she went on, looking each of them in the eye, and as she fell on Jay, she said, “And you are mistaken in the belief that I won’t be executed just because I come bearing the Lasso. The Amazons will never accept me if they know I have been to Man’s World, especially not if they know that I have lost my blessings from the Protector Goddesses. Antiope will mourn, but she will also not think twice. I will be executed if I return to Themyscira as I am.”

That got their attention. The JSA all shared uncomfortable looks at the new information, and slowly, the hackles began to lower. “... So then what is the plan?” Alan asked finally, and Hippolyta took a deep breath.

“We must convince the Amazons of two things,” she explained, “Firstly, that I am the rightful ruler of Themyscira. And secondly, that I still retain the blessings of the gods.”

“Uh-huh,” Johnny murmured, “And how, exactly, do we do that?”

“The story on Themyscira has been that Princess Hippolyta is simply very ill, and that the Lasso is being used to facilitate her recovery,” Philippus explained, “If there were to be a show put on of the Princess’s miraculous recovery, and the gods sponsoring her claim to the throne, then no Amazon in their right mind would be able to refuse.”

“Polly, maybe I’m not hearing you right, but…” Wildcat started uncertainly, “Are you asking us to pretend to be the gods? ”

“Yes, Ted,” Hippolyta said firmly, “That is exactly what I’m asking you to do.”

And this was another delicate moment. If the JSA wavered before, this would be their true breaking point. Helping her return to Themyscira was one thing, overthrowing her sister was another, but pretending to be gods? That could very well be a bridge too far for many of them.

“We’re not gods,” Kent said firmly.

“I know,” Hippolyta responded, matching his tone.

“I’m not comfortable with any of this,” Wesley spoke up, “Overthrowing your sister, pretending to be gods, lying to an entire country… it reeks of hypocrisy. Isn’t this the type of thing we spent four years fighting against?”

“Okay now, this is different from that, Wes,” Jay said instantly, trying to defend it, but Wesley fixed him with a glare. 

“Is it?” he asked intensely, the light shining off his glasses.

“It is,” Hippolyta assured him, “We are not intending to occupy Themyscira. We are not intending to subjugate the Amazons. We are intending to do the opposite.”

“How is overthrowing the rightful queen helping them?” Wesley asked again, “I’m sorry, Hippolyta, but I fail to see how any of this is beneficial to the people of Themyscira--!!”

“This is about what the Savage said, isn’t it?” Wildcat asked quietly, and everyone at the table stopped talking as the boxer spoke up. Ted looked her in the eye, “He said he was going to destroy Themyscira one day. You’re the only Amazon that knows that. They’re not going to listen to you if they know you lost your blessings, and you won’t be able to command their respect if you’re not the queen. They’ll be completely unprepared for whenever the Savage attacks them.”

Hippolyta nodded silently.

“The Savage? You mean the Nazi from Wildeheim?” Mid-Nite asked, “The one that was working with Degaton?”

“I don’t think he was a German, but yes,” Wildcat said with a nod, “That’s the one. He claimed to be an immortal, that he’d been alive since the cavemen. And he said he wanted to destroy Themyscira because of some marriage alliance that fell through six thousand years ago.”

Philippus drew in a breath in astonishment. “Six thousand-? That is the Enshrouding!” she realized, “Princess, you don’t think-?”

“Yes, Philippus,” Hippolyta said heavily, “I believe the threat from the Savage is why our foremothers secluded Themyscira in the first place. He is a threat to our very civilization, as he has been from the beginning.”

“Then why not find this guy now? Take him out?” Jay argued, “We fought a world war, finding one man can’t be that hard.”

“I don’t think he’s the kind of guy that you can just take out, Jay,” Alan sighed heavily, “And if he truly has been alive for thousands of years, do you really think we’re the first people to get it in our heads that we can kill him? He will have contingency plans.”

“ He is who he says he is, ” the Spectre mused, “ He has been alive for many thousands of years, but he is not immortal. No one is immortal. ”

“ Exactly! ” Jay cried, “We’ve got the Wrath of God on our side! We can just find the guy and-!”

“ No, ” spake the Spectre, and the group turned to him.

“No?” Wildcat asked.

“ No, I can’t damn that soul, ” Spectre explained, “ Not yet. Not as I am. ”

“Don’t tell me he’s part of the Divine Plan?” Chuck asked dubiously, and Spectre fixed him with a glare.

“ You know I can’t answer that, ” he growled, “ I don’t mean I won’t. I mean I can’t!”

The Spectre shifted his cape, and Hippolyta grimaced as it revealed the wound given to him by the Spear of Destiny, still festering and bleeding. Never closed, even years later.

“How are you still alive?” Alan asked in astonishment, and The Spectre, or perhaps it was Jim Corrigan underneath, scoffed.

“ Call it Divine Providence, ” he muttered sarcastically, “ The point is I’m not able to take on a soul that powerful. If he’s been cheating Death for as long as he has, then he has a very tight grip on his soul. It’ll take a lot of power to get him to relinquish it. Power that is currently bleeding out of my chest. ”

“But I thought you were the Wrath of God personified?” Jay asked, “How is it that your power has limits? What happened to omnipotence?”

“ The omnipotence is His, not mine, ” Spectre explained, “ I’m just a piece of infinity. And even then, there are further… complications. My strength relies on the strength of my host, Jim Corrigan, who has currently been stabbed in the chest by an extremely powerful mystic artifact. ”

“Wait, so you mean Jim is--?” Ted asked quickly, and The Spectre shook his head.

“ He’s still alive, ” he muttered, “ He’s just bleeding out. My power is the only thing keeping him stable. I’m the Spirit of Vengeance, not healing; my resources are getting stretched a little thin over here. Technically, there’s nothing stopping me from moving to a new host, but…”

“But?” Jay prompted, and Spectre rolled his eyes at the interruption.

“ BUT, it’s not your everyday Joe Schmoe that can take on the Power of the Spectre, ” he explained, “ A host like Jim Corrigan only comes along once in a generation. I’m basically doing what I can to limp my way to the finish line. ”

“And what happens to Jim after that?” Alan asked, and the Spectre looked at him.

“ The same thing that happens to everyone, Alan Scott, ” spake The Spectre, “ He dies. ”

“So at the end of the day, we’re no closer to killing the Savage than we were five minutes ago,” Wildcat muttered, “Fantastic.”

“ The Savage is going to have to wait until either I get a new host or someone takes him down a peg or both, ” The Spectre muttered, “ For now, my hands are tied. ”

“Then is this really our only option?” Wesley asked, “To combat the Savage, we must overthrow the government of Themyscira?”

“All we know about him is that one of his targets is Themyscira,” Wildcat argued, “And we know that a few of us are going to live much longer than we expected.”

A few members of the JSA fidgeted uncomfortably at the reminder of what had happened at Wildeheim, mostly Jay.

“We’re in a unique position to see what the Savage does next and try to stop him,” Wildcat went on, “We know one of his targets, and we have someone in our ranks who’s in a unique position to defend it. We had to do a lot of questionable things during the war to make sure the right side won; I don’t think this is any different.”

“That was war!” Wesley argued standing up in a fit of passion, and Hippolyta stood up in a rage of her own.

“ So is this! ” she snapped, and Sandman turned to her, “Make no mistake, Wesley, we are at war with the Savage. The JSA must do everything in its power to prevent him from getting away with his machinations. He is threatening to destroy my home! What I want is to be in a position to defend it. Is that so awful?”

Wesley looked at the group seated around the table, and he sighed as they all refused to meet his eyes. “Fine,” he muttered, sitting back down and crossing his arms, “You’ve convinced me. Just promise me that we’re going to cause as little death as possible this time.”

The JSA all gave solemn nods, and Hippolyta looked the pacifist in the eye seriously. She did not take his agreement lightly. “Wesley,” she said seriously, “You have my word that no one will die so long as they will keep our secrets.”

Wesley nodded. “I suppose that’s as good as I’m going to get,” he sighed.

“ There’s one little wrinkle in your plan here, Polly, ” The Spectre spoke again, and Hippolyta turned to the spirit.

“Yes?” she asked.

“ In my experience, Gods don’t take kindly to being impersonated, ” he said, “ And those Greeks are an especially fickle bunch. If we’re gonna go run around as fake Greek gods, how do you plan on dealing with the real ones? ”

“The real ones? What happened to ‘Thou shall have no other God but God’?” Chuck asked, and the Spectre gave him a baleful look.

“ Big difference between the big ‘G’ and the little ‘g’ in that sentence, Chuck, ” he explained, and Hippolyta took a shaky breath.

“Leave that to me,” she said to them all, “The gods will not interfere.”

“You sound sure of that,” Alan observed reproachfully.

“I am,” she said, looking him in the eye, “Because I have an offer they cannot refuse.”

Alan seemed satisfied, and held his peace. The round table stood in a tense silence for a long while, each of them considering the weight of what they had just agreed to. “Alright,” Jay sighed, putting on his helmet, “I guess we’re playing God tomorrow.”

Hippolyta took a fortifying breath. “Thank you all,” she said, “Truly. But I will need a few more days to prepare.”

“Why?” Alan asked, “What else is there to be done?”

Hippolyta sighed. “I must make that offer that the gods cannot refuse,” she said, “And see if they refuse it.”

I needed those few days to travel to where I knew he would be. And I was right; I had something he could never refuse. After all, he had never refused it before…

Hippolyta stood on the mountaintop, looking out across the lands as the clouds roiled above her. She thinks that he knows why she’s there.

An Amazon, or at the very least, a former Amazon, had not visited the peak of Mount Olympus in six thousand years. She doesn’t know what she expected to be up here; perhaps a marker of some kind, a temple. But there was nothing; only gray rock and gray sky.

Still, if ever there was a place in Man’s World where she could set her plan in motion, it would be here.

She needed power. And there was only one avenue left available to her to get it. 

She must go through with this.

It was the only way. The only way to return to Themyscira. The only way to return the Lasso to its rightful place. The only way to reclaim her life and throne. The only way to protect her people.

“Thunder Bringer, God King, rarely do I ask for favors,” she declared, watching as the sky began to darken around her, “But now I am here, praying to you in my hour of need! I, Hippolyta, Princess of the Amazons, beseech you!”

The sky grew black as night as clouds shrouded the sun. Lightning crackled in the storm above, and Hippolyta shivered for a moment as it seemed to her that the sky itself was turning its eyes to look at her. Lightning flashed, and thunder boomed.

Well. She had his attention, at least.

“I have much to offer!” she cried into the storm, “In return, all I ask is a simple favor!”

Thunder boomed overhead once more. Lightning flashed, then flashed again, brighter than before. Thunder rippled through the clouds, rolling across the mountains and down into the valleys, echoing off the cliffs. Lightning flashed once more, so bright that it blinded her, and a crack of thunder louder than anything Hippolyta had ever heard ripped the sky apart, the sound reverberating in her chest. As she desperately blinked the spots out of her eyes, trying to clear her blurry vision, she felt her mouth dry at what she saw.

The taste of copper lay on her tongue as the smell of ozone filled the air. Before her, impossibly tall, towering over  the landscape, was the figure of a Man, dressed in a Greek chiton, his skin made from roiling clouds and crackling lightning. A crown of electricity graced his brow, approximating the form of a laurel wreath; the symbol of victory. When she dared to look into his eyes, she saw only a storm.

Zeus.

“ You wish to speak, Amazon? ” the King of Olympus asked, a smile playing at his lips bemusement colored his voice; and his voice, Hippolyta had never heard anything like it. It still sounded like rumbling thunder, as if the storm itself was speaking, but through some divine magic, she could understand what was being said beneath the sound of the squall.

“Lord Zeus,” she said in reverence, immediately going to one knee, and above her, Zeus raised an eyebrow. 

“ An Amazon bowing to me? Now that has not happened in a very long time… ” he mused, and Hippolyta felt her ears pop as the pressure dropped, and though she dare not lift her gaze from the ground, she could sense he had moved closer, as if to get a better look, “ Curious… I don’t see my wife’s touch upon you… ”

“My blessings were stolen from me, Lord Zeus,” she explained tersely, still keeping her gaze to the floor, and rumbling laughter erupted above her as Zeus threw his head back and laughed.

“ HA! An Amazon without her blessings! Now this is rich! ” he laughed, “ Hera will never hear the end of this, I swear! ”

“Lord Zeus, this loss is why I am beseeching you,” she went on, and Zeus hummed.

“ You know full well that I cannot give you my wife’s blessing, ” he answered, “ And if you truly were foolish enough to lose it, she will not give it to you again. ”

“I know, My Lord,” she replied, and finally she dared to look up, beholding the god in all his glory, “That is why I propose a deception.”

That got the thunder god’s attention. He raised his clouded brow, and repeated slowly, “ A deception…? ”

“Yes, My Lord, if it is to your liking,” she explained quickly, getting to her feet, “Would you like to hear what I propose?”

“ Normally, a mortal would be stricken down for the insolence of proposing anything to a god… ” Zeus rumbled, stroking his beard as sparks of lightning flew between the cloudy hairs, “ But color me intrigued, Amazon. I will hear what you have to say. ”

“Thank you, Lord Zeus,” she responded, immediately throwing herself back down to one knee, “Forgive me for overstepping my bounds. I beseech you in prayer in the hopes that you might lend me your aid in claiming the throne of Themyscira as my own; our plan involves the impersonation of the gods, and all I ask is that the gods take no offense, and do not interfere.”

“ Impersonation of the gods!? ” Zeus thundered, his voice rumbling with fury, “ Such insolence! I should fry you where you stand, Amazon! ”

Hippolyta stiffened as once again, the air pressure around her dropped, and for a moment, she thought that this was the end, but then she heard Zeus chuckle again; his mood as fickle as the changing winds. “ But Themyscira has always been an annoyance to me… ” he continued, his voice now far calmer, taking on a wistful, perhaps even sultry tone as he drew closer to Hippolyta, “ An island full of women, all hidden from my sight… it is an insult I haven’t forgotten… ”

Hippolyta shivered as static electricity trailed up her spine. 

“ But still, allowing such blasphemy to go unpunished is a tall order, and as you well know, any prayer requires a due sacrifice, ” Zeus went on, and Hippolyta shivered as a wisp of cloud caught her beneath her chin, guiding her face upward gently until she was face to face with the god, looking directly into the eyes of the Thunder Bringer. “ Enlighten me, Princess of Themyscira… ” Zeus asked her, “ What do you have to offer me? ”

Once again, Hippolyta stood, but now she did so purposefully. In one fluid motion, before she could lose her nerve, she threw off the loose cloak that had been defending her modesty.

Zeus looked on in appreciation.

“I offer this,” she said, her voice only shaking slightly, and Zeus raised an eyebrow.

“ You must know I am no stranger to this, ” he said blandly, and Hippolyta nodded, keeping her gaze level.

“Yes, the tales of your conquests reach far and wide, even to the shores of Themyscira, My Lord,” she said, leaving out the fact that they were used as cautionary tales to ward teenage Amazons off of praying to the male Olympians, “But you have never had an Amazon before, have you?”

Zeus said nothing, his face growing contemplative as Hippolyta crossed the point of no return. Either her gambit would work, or she would be dead in a few moments.

She honestly wasn’t sure which was worse.

“Think of it; if I am on Themyscira’s throne, then my children would be next in line to inherit the queenship,” she explained, willing her voice to be as sultry and seductive as she could make it, even though on the inside she felt sick to her stomach at what she was about to let happen, “Which means that if we were to lay together tonight, my daughter, your daughter, would be the next queen of the island you hate so much. What better retort to Hera’s insult than to have a Daughter of Zeus as Queen of the Amazons?”

Zeus remained silent for a long time, long enough that Hippolyta began to worry that she had misjudged her gambit, but just as she was about to resign herself to a quick and gruesome demise, the Olympian smirked. “ The funny thing is, I know you’re playing me… ” he murmured, and in a flash of blinding lightning and booming thunder, the impossibly tall cloud figure from before was replaced by a flesh-and-blood Man of the same features and natural height, standing with her upon the summit of Olympus, “ But you’re right.

“I accept your bargain, Amazon…” Zeus told her, tucking his hand beneath her chin as he regarded her, appraising her as if she were some kind of prized livestock, and he smirked again, “So let us not waste any more time.”

Hippolyta refused to close her eyes as thunder boomed, and lightning flashed, and the sky god’s lips met her own.

If this was the price of protecting her people, then so be it. She had already sacrificed her honor, she might as well sacrifice her virtue.

Hippolyta would not win, but for as long as she lived, neither would the Savage.

She felt dirty as she descended the mountain, dressed in clothes far more durable than the loose cloak she had worn before. Philippus waited for her at the trailhead, her features etched with concern. 

“Your Highness!” she cried as Hippolyta drew nearer, “Is it done?”

Hippolyta’s steps stuttered as she looked her friend in the eye. She had lost something on that mountain, something she would never regain, another piece of her broken off and stolen, but it was the price she was willing to pay. “Yes, Philippus,” she answered evenly, her voice devoid of emotion, “It’s done.”

Philippus fell in step easily beside her as they continued on toward Olympia, where the JSA awaited their return before they moved on to Crete, and then Themyscira. “If I may ask, Your Highness…” Philippus started awkwardly, and Hippolyta braced herself for the inevitable question, “What did you offer him?”

Hippolyta never broke stride, never let her eyes stray from the path. “Never mind that, Philippus,” she answered, keeping her eyes ahead, “The deal is made. We have our opening, and now we must use it.”

Philippus nodded, seeing the dismissal for what it was. “Of course,” she answered, and the conversation stopped.

They were both kind enough to ignore how Hippolyta began to cry as they walked.

My offering did the trick. The Thunder Bringer would ensure the other Olympians would not interfere, perhaps not even that they would know. I know not if the Protector Goddesses know of my deception, or if the God King has been complete in his distraction. Perhaps it is a matter of time. 

Still, this is not the end of my confession. It is not leaving our shores, nor losing my blessings, nor tricking the gods that I consider my greatest crime, but this; raising my sword against my sisters in arms, and in so doing, betraying my brothers…

They were silent as they arrived at the cave. It was the very same cave that the Justice Society had ventured into during the war, the ancient Amazon temple that had drawn the Helm of Fate across the magical barrier that defended their island. Located at the very center of the island of Crete, near the ruins of the once-great city of Knossos, the capital of the Kingdom of Minos. Of the Savage.

“This is the place,” Jay confirmed, as if they didn’t already know. 

“Very well,” Hippolyta sighed, looking to her comrades, “Is everyone ready?”

They all shifted uncomfortably, giving each other sidelong glances, and Hourman sighed. “No,” Rex muttered truthfully, “But let’s do it anyway.”

This seemed to break whatever spell the rest were under, and they all followed the pharmacist into the cave. As they trekked over the loose stones and gravel, Wildcat passed Hippolyta, and they shared a hard look. Something profound was communicated, but she couldn’t be sure what it was.

It wasn’t an incredibly long walk, but it was dark. Luckily, Alan had his ring, and Doctor Fate was kind enough to hold out a small glowing image of an ankh to light the path. Soon enough, they came to the crumbled ruins of the sanctuary temple built by the Ancient Amazons, left untouched by the remote wilderness and the passage of time. Upon the walls, cracked, faded remnants of once-lively murals adorned the walls, the few discernible images displaying those of warrior women engaged in exercise, or battle. The image was too damaged to be sure which was which.

They arrived to an open chamber, the remains of stonework that probably once belonged to a grand temple now crumbling and decrepit. In the center was a crumbled pile of rocks approximating what could have once been an altar, but what was behind it caught Hippolyta’s attention.

This mural was in better condition than the other ones. It clearly showed the Ancient Amazons in battle, led by a queen with fair hair, like her own, and wearing a golden girdle, but this was not art she was accustomed to seeing. For one thing, the Amazons were quite clearly fleeing from the field; this scene was unheard of in Amazon history. On the other side of the mural was a line of marching men, their faces inscrutable and hidden by their war helmets, resembling the face of a bull. Fire followed in their wake, oranges and reds decorating the edges of the mural as one soldier was depicted slaughtering a helpless old woman; perhaps an elderly Amazon. Their leader, however, was what drew her attention. Black hair, a stocky frame, a scar across his face, and wielding a sword colored as black as the night; the Savage.

So it was true.

Behind them all, Carter hummed with interest. Hippolyta, shaken from her reverie, turned to him and asked, “Is something the matter, Hawkman?”

“Not necessarily,” he answered, “It’s just that that mural is unusual. If this temple was built by Ancient Amazons, why would they depict themselves fleeing from the battlefield? People don’t usually go through such trouble to record battles they lost.”

“Archivist Dessa confirmed that our foremothers had a temple on this island, close to Knossos. This can be no other place!” Philippus protested, and The Spectre hummed as he held his hand to the stones.

“ There was death in this place… ” he murmured, and he waved his hand. All around them, green smoke billowed from beneath his cloak and began to fill the room, taking on cloudy, indistinct forms of people.

For a moment, a few shapes moved about the space, behaving normally, but as things began to come more into definition, more figures ran into the space from the tunnel the JSA had just come from, looking as panicked as faceless forms of smoke could look, and the energy suddenly became far more desperate. The smoke figures ran about the space, preparing for something; one lingered by the altar, making a motion to pick up an object that was no longer there, pantomiming the action as it fled further into the cavern, toward the far wall. It seemed to open a compartment in the wall and place the something she had picked up from the altar inside.

Some of the smoky figures stood by the entrance to the sanctum, hefting smoky approximations of weapons. Then, figures made of different colored smoke rushed in from the tunnel, and the first figures began to fall, crying silent screams of agony as smoke swords burst through their smoke chests. The invaders slaughtered the defenders to a man, making no distinction between the warriors and those who seemed to be simply taking shelter.

Finally, one of the invaders approached the last remaining defender, the one who had taken the object from the altar and hidden it, and seemed to be threatening, asking questions.

Hippolyta could almost hear the six thousand year old demand whispered in the still air of the cavern; “Where is it? ”

The invader did not seem to get the answer he wanted, and slit the final defender’s throat. The figure, who could only have been one of the Ancient Amazons, fell to the ground, clutching her throat, and she reached out a hand, perhaps for assistance, perhaps for mercy.

Where she was standing in the cave, the figure seemed to be reaching out to Hippolyta directly.

With the death of the last Ancient Amazon, the smoke dissipated, and The Spectre withdrew his magic from the space. “ It was a slaughter… ” he muttered, as if they all didn’t already know. The air stood still between them all, as they realized the enormity of the memory they had just witnessed.

“ There’s an inscription! ” Carter cried from where he was inspecting the wall, and Hippolyta went to his side, “But it’s in a script I’ve never seen before…”

Hippolyta looked to where he was indicating, and narrowed her eyes. It seemed to be some faded inscription on the walls of the temple. “I have,” she said quietly, “The first half is in Amazon. The second is Greek; only the Royal Line studied it. It is the only outside language known on Themyscira.”

“It’s not any Greek I know,” Carter mused, “Not modern, not even ancient. It must be a script so old we haven’t rediscovered it yet. Can you read it?”

“Some,” Hippolyta affirmed, and she held her hand to the stone, tracing the ancient words with her fingers, “ We, the Daughters of the Thermodon, too late to be given sanctuary, guard this temple and the relic given to us by Mighty Hera, Defender of Women. So long as we breathe, no Man shall behold The Queen’s Girdle. ”

Hippolyta took a breath as she looked to the phrase below it, written in Archaic Greek, “And the second line is shorter. It reads, I, Minos, King of Crete, have slain the Last of the Amazons in Hellas. By their blood, Themyscira will follow. ”

The ancient threat hung heavy in the air as Hippolyta finished reading. “I think this place was built by Amazon refugees…” Jay murmured, hsi voice breaking the silence, “A few must have been left behind when they hid your island from the world.”

“What little we still know about the time before the Enshrouding is clear; the Ancient Amazons waged war all across the Aegean,” Philippus explained, “It is certainly possible that a contingent was unable to make it to Themyscira before the goddesses did their work.”

“Leaving them to the mercy of Minos,” Hippolyta finished darkly, clenching her fist at the long-dried blood of her sisters, “Of the Savage.”

“How much do you want to bet that Savage is the one that put up that mural?” Alan muttered, “Threat to any surviving Amazons who might come back trying to find the Girdle. Reminder that their queen fled in fear and abandoned them.”

“Hippolyta the Great abandoned no one! ” Philippus snapped sharply, defending Themyscira’s mythical founder, and Alan held up his hands in surrender.

“I’m just saying, that’s how he could have spun it,” he said defensively, and Philippus scoffed.

“You Men and your twisted words,” she muttered lowly, “I cannot wait to be rid of this place.”

“Love you too, Phil,” Johnny Thunder answered sarcastically.

“We are wasting time,” Hippolyta snapped, drawing their attention back to the task at hand, and not to ancient history, “Where is this artifact that allowed you to travel to Themyscira?”

“It was somewhere in the back,” Wildcat recalled, clambering over a few fallen rocks, “It glowed.”

“Looked like a weird belt,” Jay offered unhelpfully as they all began looking around.

“It is here,” Fate said calmly, pointing directly to where it had been dropped by their previous endeavor, though it had been partially obscured by some fallen dirt.

Sure enough, it was slightly glowing, and looked to be a fine leather belt, thick and sturdy, inlaid with gold leaf into an intricate pattern; Hippolyta took in a sharp breath, and Philippus knelt in reverence.

There was no mistaking it; this was the Queen’s Girdle.

“So, I take it that this is pretty important, since you’re bowing to it,” Jay noticed, and Philippus sighed.

“That is the Girdle of Hippolyta the Great,” she explained, “The first gift to the Amazons by the gods. It was given to Hippolyta the Great by Ares, the God of War, to carry her spear, and it was said that while she wore it she never lost a battle. It was lost to the thief Heracles in ancient times, and after the Enshrouding, the Protector Goddesses gave us the Lasso of Truth in its stead.”

“... So, pretty important,” Jay acknowledged, stepping back and allowing the others to approach.

“Yes,” Fate agreed, approaching the Girdle, “Important.”

“Your Highness, if you wore the Girdle, it could be as though you never lost your blessings,” Philippus said urgently, looking to Hippolyta, “It is said that your namesake had tenfold strength while she wore it, and invulnerability in battle!”

Hippolyta couldn’t pretend she wasn’t tempted; a chance to have her strength back, even if only a facsimile, was an enticing offer. But…

“ You can’t, ” The Spectre said sagely, and Philippus turned to him.

“ What?” she demanded, “Why!?”

“Because the story on Themyscira is that I never left the island in the first place,” Hippolyta sighed, following The Spectre’s logic, “If I were to suddenly appear with a sacred artifact that has been lost for centuries, then everyone would know I have been to Man’s World. It will have killed our plan in its cradle.”

Philippus looked about as unhappy as Hippolyta felt, but it had to be done. “The Girdle must remain here,” she declared, but as she looked around, she thought of the Ancient Amazons who had given their lives to defend the relic, to keep it out of the Savage’s hands, and she sighed, “But we ought to give it a bit more safety. Hourman, Lantern, do you think you can cause a controlled cave-in? Block off the entrance to this place?”

Rex and Alan nodded, and their turned back toward the entrance to the cavern. In a flash of green light and the sound of crumbling stone, the entrance to the cave vanished, locking them inside if not for Doctor Fate’s teleportation abilities. Now, at least, this place would be protected from prying eyes.

“No going back now,” Wildcat said softly as the tunnel collapsed, and Wesley hummed a sullen agreement.

“ About that, ” The Spectre spoke up, and all eyes turned to him, “ I’m not going. ”

“ What!? ” Hippolyta demanded, “I thought we were all in agreement-!”

“ It’s not that I’m unwilling, ” The Spectre interrupted, holding up a hand, “ Not even that I’m unable. It’s that it’s against the rules. My powers are a little territorial; I can’t act on behalf of a God that isn’t my own, even just impersonating one. If I helped, bad things would happen.

“ That, and quite honestly, I don’t have another adventure in me, ” he sighed, once more showing them his wound, “ This is really screwing with me. I can’t keep expending energy on gallivanting off with mortals like this anymore; I’ve got to save what I have left for the important stuff, judging souls and the like. This is as far as I go. ”

He fixed Hippolyta with a hellish green gaze, and he smiled. “ I only came this far because I wanted to see if you had what it took to go through with it, and I have my answer, ” he said, and his eyes glowed brighter as Hippolyta felt as though he was staring at her soul instead of her, “ But don’t worry. We’ll see each other again. Everybody sees me eventually… ”

As The Spectre’s final words echoed around them, his form faded and disappeared in a cloud of green smoke, dissipating as though taken by some unseen breeze, and the JSA was left without one of their founding members.

Hippolyta couldn’t be sure if his cryptic parting words had been encouragement or threat.

“Good of him to warn us…” Chuck muttered ruefully, staring at where their friend had just disappeared.

“I suppose he does have better things to do…” Starman said uncertainly.

“Are we ready to go, then?” Doctor Fate asked, trying to return them to the task at hand, and Hippolyta nodded.

“If everyone else is,” she answered. All around her, there were a series of grim nods.

Fate approached the Girdle, then, as his Helmet began to glow in reaction to its magic, Kent Nelson took a deep breath within the Helm and grabbed hold of the Girdle. There was a flash of bright golden light, a hollow feeling in their guts, and suddenly, they were somewhere else.

The wind was warm on her face, heated by the sun and carrying the salty scent of the sea. Above her, trees swayed in the tranquil breeze, bathing the forest floor in dappled sunlight, and a babbling brook flowed over rocks somewhere nearby. She sat up and looked around, not daring to hope yet knowing in her heart it was true.

Themyscira. Home.

Around her, her companions all groaned as they sat up, some holding their heads, all in various states of disorientation. “ God, I forgot how much that sucked the first time!” Rex grumbled, holding his head as the others grumbled unintelligible agreements.

“Apparently, the Helm of Fate and the Queen’s Girdle do not like each other,” Kent muttered, reaching for the aforementioned Helm from where it had separated from him mid-transit, “I get the sense Nabu doesn’t like doing that.”

“Well, he only needs to do it one more time, and that won’t even involve the Girdle,” Ted sighed, “Let’s just get this done. Is everyone clear on the plan? What’s Step One?”

“I will journey to the Archives to ensure Archivist Dessa is aware of our plot,” Philippus said evenly, “She has kept our secrets so far, she is a trustworthy ally. She will help ensure that all the important members of court, including Antiope, gather on the Acropolis to witness our display.”

Philippus nodded to the guard, then stepped inside the Archives. Dessa was at her desk, poring over some scroll or another. “Dessa!” Philippus called, and Dessa looked up.

“ Philippus! ” she cried in astonishment, standing up quickly and running to embrace her friend, “You’ve returned! Does this mean--?”

“Yes, Dessa,” Philippus said with a subdued but pleased nod, “The Princess has returned. And we have a plan to restore her to her former glory, but we need your help.”

Dessa’s bright mood became increasingly more serious as she heard what Philippus had to say, and she pursed her lips as she considered her role. There was silence for a long time, and for a moment, Philippus worried that Dessa wouldn’t help, but then the Archivist turned to her with a grim and determined flare in her eyes. “I’ll do whatever I can,” she pledged fiercely, and Philippus nodded gratefully. Step One complete.

“Step Two, while Philippus and Dessa are gathering the Court, we sneak up to the Acropolis with Hippolyta guiding us away from the guards,” Starman supplied, hefting his gravity rod, “I use the Star Rod to let us all ascend the cliff face silently.”

It was a silent ascension as Starman lifted them skyward; it was a bit of a disorienting feeling, being lifted into the air rather than flying under your own power. Still, it was the safest way up, and they all landed silently behind the statue of Hera Gynailexdros. They sat in a ragged circle, waiting to hear voices; Hippolyta let out a slow, steady breath as she held the Lasso in her hands. Now, they wait.

Soon, Hippolyta’s eyes widened as she heard a voice she had not heard in a very long time.

“--do not understand what was so urgent, Dessa,” came the voice of her sister, Antiope, floating from the central chamber of the Throne Room on the Acropolis, “Could this not wait?”

“I’m afraid not, my queen,” came Dessa’s convincing reply, “There is something you and the others must see.”

“Step Three, Fate will concoct an illusion,” Kent went on, holding the Helmet in his hands, “Both to darken the sky, and to disguise us as the gods of old.”

Kent placed the Helmet on his head, and the golden eyes of Doctor Fate glowed. The Lord of Order waved his hand, and in a shimmer of golden light, their disguises were prepared. Hippolyta, the only one who could go without, set her jaw as she saw the visages of Ares, Apollo, and Zeus surrounding her. The disguises were convincing ones.

Showtime.

“Step Four, I bring the thunder, make it seem like Zeus is making an appearance,” Johnny said with a grin, the purple lightning of Yz the Living Thunderbolt crackling between his fingertips.

“ Cei-u! ” Johnny whispered into his palm, and he grinned as he looked up, and the sky began to darken. Hippolyta heard gasps of astonishment as the Royal Court looked up at the rapidly blackening sky. Thunder pealed through the clouds, and lightning cracked; lucky for them, it was so fast and so high up that Antiope would never be sure whether the lightning she was seeing was natural white or the mystic purple of Yz.

“Then, when all of Themyscira is simultaneously shitting its pants, that’s when Step Five kicks in,” Wesley supplied, adjusting his glasses, “While you all go to the Acropolis, Jay, Carter, and I will be placing my sleep gas canisters around the island; Jay moves so fast he’ll be mistaken for a strong wind, which will be explained by Johnny’s thunder, and Carter will help me cover more ground. When the time is right, they will all trigger at the same moment, and acting as Hypnos, the God of Sleep, I will ensure no especially perceptive Amazons discover our plot. It should also reduce bloodshed should violence break out.”

Wesley sighed as he and Carter touched down in a shadowy thicket, where no townsfolk would see them. He placed his mask over his head, considering the remote trigger in his hands. Then, as the sky turned black and the faux storm began, Wesley sighed and handed his spare mask over to Carter, letting Hawkman remove his helmet and apply it before he went through with the inevitable. 

A little ways away from the bushes they were hiding in, Wesley saw a mother and daughter looking up at the Acropolis. “Mommy, what’s going on?” the child asked, and Wesley’s heart twisted.

Before he could lose his nerve, he squeezed the trigger, and all across the island of Themyscira, sleep gas exploded all throughout the cities, towns, and villages. He heard a few Amazons coughing, then the telltale thumps as they began to hit the ground. “ Sleep, Amazons, ” he commanded, knowing Fate would amplify his voice to be heard all across the island as that of Hypnos, the Dream God, “ Sleep, and tomorrow you shall have a new queen. ”

“Step Five, I corrall all the members of the Royal Court on the Acropolis disguised as Hermes, the God of Messengers,” Jay said, then he smiled wryly as he tipped up his hat, “The helmet should help.”

Jay rushed up the Acropolis as Wesley’s gas expanded all around him. It was like watching the world move through molasses, watching the gas billow out around him in slow motion. Luckily, he could quite literally outrun it, not breathing any in as he managed to make it up the mountain and began running full tilt around the palace complex. His footsteps scoured the ground, carving a path where he ran, and idly, Jay wondered if future generations of Amazons would try to attach significance to the trench he was inadvertently making, believing it to be the act of a god. 

Then, he dismissed such thoughts. He had a job to do, and so long as he put one foot in front of the other, no one was making it on or off the Acropolis until Hippolyta had gone through with it.

“Then, Step Six,” Alan said heavily, “The gods arrive. With Fate’s illusion, I will appear as Apollo, God of Prophecy, and explain that the Oracle, Rhea, received a false vision concocted by Hephaestus and Poseidon, longtime enemies of Themyscira.”

“ AMAZONS! ” Alan cried in a booming voice, floating up into the sky so that he could descend down from it, carrying the disguised Wildcat and Johnny with him, “HEAR ME!”

The one in front wearing regal finery, Alan guessed it must have been Antiope, stood in open-mouthed shock as he descended, and he supposed Fate’s disguises must have done the trick. Another one, Alan supposed her to be the Oracle mentioned before, Rhea, dropped into a low bow.

“ Lord Apollo! ” she greeted, speaking loudly into the ground, “ Lord Zeus, Lord Ares! Your presence honors us! ”

Alan remained hovering in the sky, so that any imperfections in the disguises were masked by distance. Antiope, meanwhile, dropped to one knee in imitation of Rhea.

“Amazons, you have been deceived!” he cried heartily, pouring it on as thick as he could, “A false prophecy has been sent to you to make you weak! The work of Poseidon and Hephaestus, trying to dishonor the sanctity of Themyscira!”

Antiope and Rhea blanched, as did the rest of the royal party. Dessa and Philippus, for their parts, played the role of shocked and scared perfectly.

“ Oh, Far-Sighted Apollo! ” Rhea cried up to him, “ What lie has the Earthshaker and the Forge Master sent to us? ”

“And I’ll be Ares, the God of War,” Wildcat went on, crossing his arms, “Telling them that Antiope was the wrong choice for leader, and that they have to go with the firstborn, Hippolyta, instead.”

Ted spoke up, trying to match Alan’s regal tone. “ They have tried to make Antiope queen, when the line of succession is not hers! ” he shouted in a rough voice, hoping he was approximating what a War God sounded like, “ Hippolyta should be queen! ”

“Hippolyta?” Antiope asked in astonishment, “But Lord Ares, my sister is sick! Deathly ill! We have been using the magic of the Lasso of Truth to heal her, but-!”

“ SILENCE! ” Johnny roared, his voice amplified both by the illusion of being Zeus and by the power of the Living Thunderbolt. It was also augmented by the fact that the Acropolis began to shake beneath them.

“Meanwhile,” Rex said, grinning as he pulled up his hood, “I’ll be below the Acropolis, making the ground shake a little to sell the cinematography of the whole thing.”

Antiope dropped into a deep, apologetic bow, keeping her eyes to the ground as she tried to avoid the perceived God King’s ire. “The gods could not allow such deception to go unanswered,” Johnny went on, playing the part of Zeus extraordinarily well, “Themyscira is sacred land, and so we have taken action. Behold! Hippolyta, restored!”

“And then I will make my miraculous recovery, armed with the Lasso of Truth,” Hippolyta finished, “And once Antiope submits to my authority, Fate will transport you all away before we can be found out.”

Hippolyta stepped out from behind the statue of Hera, but thanks to Fate’s magic it seemed as though she emerged from inside of it. The Lasso glowed in her hand, and for the first time in four years, she saw her sister. 

“Hello, sister,” she said softly, and Antiope stared at her. 

“ Sister! ” she cried, still open-mouthed, “I-! You’re recovered!”

“My illness was never real to begin with,” Hippolyta said, the Lasso compelling her to tell the truth, but she had enough willpower to do so carefully, “It was all a trick.”

Oracle Rhea, meanwhile, looked distraught. “A false prophecy?” she murmured, “I did not think Lord Poseidon or Lord Hephaestus capable of such a thing…!”

“Antiope,” Hippolyta called, hopefully before Rhea could unravel the thread any more, “I believe you have something that belongs to me.”

Antiope still stared, but seemed to become aware of the crown on her head. Antiope once more looked to the gods, and ‘Zeus’, ‘Apollo’, and ‘Ares’ all looked down at her impassively.

“ Hippolyta shall rule, ” they all said in unison, the collaboration no doubt brought about by the careful coordination of Doctor Fate, and Antiope bowed her head.

Getting to her feet, she walked forward, keeping her eyes downcast, and knelt before her sister. Hippolyta pitied her as she removed the crown from her head and offered it.

“Hail, Queen Hippolyta,” she said clearly, and placing the Lasso of Truth at her hip, Hippolyta took the crown from her sister and breathed a sigh of relief as she placed it on her own head. 

“Hail, Queen Hippolyta!” Philippus cried, quickly joined by Dessa, and soon Rhea had no choice but to join in. Below, as Sandman’s gas dissipated and the Amazons began to wake up, they heard the cries from the mountain, and soon the cry was taken up by the whole country: 

“Hail, Queen Hippolyta! Hail, Queen Hippolyta! Hail, Queen Hippolyta!”

Hippolyta basked in the cheers of her people. She gave a subtle nod to the Men standing behind her, and in a flash of light and a final crack of thunder, the ‘gods’ were gone. The clouds dissipated, and sunlight began to shine down on Themyscira once again. That beam of sunlight was the last she would see of her old friends; she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at their parting. Her thoughts wandered back to their final goodbye, not an hour before…

“There won’t be a chance to say goodbye?” Jay asked, looking crestfallen, and Hippolyta sighed sadly.

“No, not besides now,” she acknowledged. Jay seemed unsatisfied by that answer. In the blink of an eye, she felt herself wrapped in a tight embrace, and the speedster sighed into her shoulder.

“Be careful, Polly,” he murmured, “I’m gonna miss you.”

Hippolyta couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll miss you, too, Jay,” she agreed, patting his back, and finally, the speedster relented, stepping back and wiping the tears from his eyes. Then, Alan approached her, smiling a wounded, sad sort of smile as he hugged her as well, though more softly than Jay had.

“You did a lot for me, Hippolyta,” he said kindly, “It won’t be forgotten.” Hippolyta nodded wordlessly, unable to say anything appropriately profound to answer the compliment, and Alan stepped back. 

Kent was the next to step up, nodding to her and taking her hand in his firmly. “With this, a debt owed is repaid,” he said clearly, his grip growing tight around the Helm, “Good luck, Hippolyta of Themyscira. We’re all counting on you.”

Hippolyta nodded, and soon, all the rest were saying their goodbyes, though Hippolyta was never as close to them as she was to those three. And, of course, there was Wildcat.

Ted Grant hung back from the goodbyes for a little while, arms crossed and looking unhappy, until Hippolyta finally approached him. “Wildcat… Ted…” she started awkwardly, “I’m sorry for how things ended up between us.”

“It’s not your fault,” he sighed, his shoulders deflating as the tension left them, seemingly having been psyching up for this conversation, “It’s how things go. There’ll be someone else. For both of us.”

Hippolyta smiled sadly. “I know,” she sighed, “But for what it’s worth…” Quickly, before she could lose her nerve, she kissed him politely on the cheek; not lustful, but loving. “... I do wish it could have been you,” she finished, and Ted nodded, pursing his lips and obviously trying not to cry.

Hippolyta stepped back from the failed romance, then turned back toward the forest. To Themyscira; her past, and her future. Her pride and her shame. Her home and her strange land. “Okay,” she said, “Let’s get started.”

Hippolyta stood on the edge of the Acropolis, revelling in the weight of the crown upon her head. Behind her, the royal party sat in dumbfounded silence, all except for Dessa and Philippus, who knew the inner workings of the plan. To everyone else, it seemed as though their sickly princess had just made a miraculous recovery under the auspices of the gods; an unusual path to the throne if ever there was one.

Certain unpleasant things would need to be done, soon enough. For instance, no pretender to the throne can keep their royal titles, no matter how good-intentioned they were; Antiope would need to be given a new, non-royal position. General of the Armies was about the best Hippolyta could do; still a demotion, but not so terrible an insult as kicking her to the streets. She would still enjoy much respect throughout the island. 

Rhea may become a problem; her talent for clairvoyance may be able to see through Hippolyta’s lies, and if she made contact with the real Olympians, then they would be discovered. Rhea would need to be taken care of.

But still, for now, their plan had worked. She was Queen.

And now, she could prepare her country for war.

And thus is the sum total of my sins. Philippus recommended I write this down to try and ease my conscience, to be a better, more clear-headed ruler, less wracked with guilt, but I don’t know how effective it’s truly been.  I can only hope the JSA is doing its part in Man's World. It has been decades since I last spoke to them, on that fateful day.  My daughter, Diana, has been born, and though I love her with all my heart, I cannot help but see the Thunder in her lightning blue eyes. She is eager to learn, but she has much yet to do before she is ready to rule.

I am hiding this account in the deepest corner of our Archives; Dessa has agreed to help me, though her eyes grow dim with age. Is this the legacy I am leaving to my daughter? Lies and secrecy and deceit? Can I truly rule like this? I, who cast aside my friends in order to chase a crown that no longer belonged to me. I, who betrayed both my sisters- and my brothers-in-arms, all for power and control. But if not me, then who? Who else knows to prepare for the coming of this Savage? 

By now, it doesn’t matter. If my soul is consigned to the Fields of Punishment in Hades, then so be it. I have done what was necessary, nothing less and nothing more. My people will be protected because of what I have done. The Savage is on the backfoot now; when he comes, Themyscira will be prepared.

When I go to face the Judges of the Damned, be they the Court of Hades or my old friend The Spectre, they will not find a fight. They will only find an old woman; an old woman tired, but satisfied she did her duty. An old woman weary from a mind more filled with guilt than it is with hope.

So perhaps I am a fool. Perhaps I am a traitor. Perhaps I am a fraud. But I did what needed to be done. There was no way out, there was no solution. I did the only thing I could do. The only thing that mattered. 

So damn you, Muses! Damn you, gods! Damn you, Men, and damn you, Savage!

I will not falter. I am Hippolyta of Themyscira, Forty-First of My Name. 

And I know the truth.

Sat in the flickering firelight of the Archives of Themyscira, seventy-three years after the fact, Cassie Sandsmark and Archivist Acantha stared down at the little tome in abject horror. 

“Amazons lose the blessings of the gods if they allow themselves to be taken in bondage,” Cassie whispered, looking at Acantha with fear in her eyes.

“The Queen went to Man’s World…” Acantha answered, looking just as horrified as Cassie felt alarmed, “She allowed herself to be bound, and she staged her ascension to the throne by letting Men masquerade as the gods! ”

“Which means not only did Hippolyta lose her powers…” Cassie went along, her alarm growing more and more as she realized what the little journal meant.

Acantha stared back at Cassie, whispering the truth in horrified realization, “She is a false queen! ”

The whispered truth sat between them like a loaded gun, and Cassie could scarcely dare to believe it. In an audience years ago, the Queen had let slip to her, Diana, and Donna that she had gone to Man’s World at some point, around World War II even, but she’d never made the connection to the JSA. 

And the implications of Hippolyta and Zeus leading to Diana…

Cassie felt sick. What she and Acantha had just stumbled on was incredibly dangerous information. And she had to hand it all over to Tim Drake if she wanted her mother to live.

The universe didn’t give her enough time to process that realization before a fresh new hell was visited upon them.

“ WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!? ” came a new voice roaring from the entryway of the chamber, and Cassie and Acantha leapt to their feet as their stomachs sank into their feet. There, in all her glory, standing in the dim light of the torches, flanked by her trusty companion Philippus, was Hippolyta. Queen of the Amazons.

And she looked pissed.