THEMYSCIRA
Temple of Athena
"How... how are you feeling now, Aretha? You haven't been responsive for days."
On the balcony of the temple overlooking a vineyard bathed in orange sunlight, Lyssipe stood beside Agape. Between them, seated on a stone bench, was Aretha—her eyes blank and unblinking as she stared into the horizon.
"I... I am..."
She paused and sighed, her voice weary.
"I don't know. Too many voices... too many visions. I feel like I've lived several lifetimes—lives that are not my own. I awaken, and it's as if everything was a dream... or a curse."
Her shoulders slumped as her voice faltered.
"Most of all, I no longer feel her presence. Athena has... forsaken me. So how am I?"
She lowered her head.
"Lost."
There was pain behind her pupil-less eyes, masked by an expression of silence. Lyssipe and Agape sat beside her, one on each side of the bench. Without speaking, they embraced her.
"I feel so empty... so alone," Aretha whispered hoarsely, her voice trembling.
"Worry not, Aretha. It shall be well soon," Agape whispered gently, running her fingers through Aretha's hair. "The Queen has devised a way to gain his favor. We believe that once it succeeds, with his help, you'll be able to reconnect with Athena."
"You..." Aretha pulled away from their embrace, her voice rising in fury. "You still cling to the hope that he might stay and protect us—after what he's done to me?!"
"Calm yourself, Aretha," Lyssipe replied firmly. "Whatever he is, he's powerful enough to harm a goddess. Do you truly believe we stand a chance against a being who can wound one of Olympus?"
Aretha tried to speak, but Lyssipe pressed on.
"Do you want to provoke him again? We don't know if he'll leave peacefully. We don't know what he truly is. But one thing we do know... is that our best hope lies in keeping him here and earning his approval. When Poseidon attacks, we must not be lambs awaiting slaughter."
Her voice softened with regret.
"Don't let temporary conflict blind you to the truth. We provoked this. Taking Athena to confront a god in "chains" was reckless. Especially considering how she spoke to him—as if he were beneath her."
The bitterness of that moment lingered in the air.
"But I still don't understand..." Agape said quietly. "Why did he react so violently at the sight of Athena? She was just a projection... not a threat. Why would a god strike so brutally at something so insubstantial?"
She stared ahead, bewildered. The question had tormented them for days.
Yes—bringing another god to gloat over an "imprisoned" one was disrespectful. Yes—Athena's manner had been imperious. But still... it seemed extreme. Especially since Aretha could no longer feel Athena's presence. Whatever happened... it was real.
The silence that followed was thick with unease.
"You know... don't you?" Lyssipe asked suddenly, turning toward Aretha. The priestess said nothing, but her gaze fell to the floor again.
"Lady Athena was... curious," Aretha murmured at last. "She tried to probe his mind. She believed he wasn't as powerful as he appeared. The fates only showed her glimpses of his battle with the trench dwellers... and even that seemed modest."
Lyssipe and Agape gasped, understanding dawning in their eyes.
"Why would a wise goddess like Athena underestimate a being of such terrifying stature?" Lyssipe asked aloud.
"What else? Olympian pride," Agape said bitterly. "What would you expect from a scion of Olympus? Years of triumph have made them blind. They think themselves invincible."
"Mind your tone, Agape," Lyssipe chided, though not harshly. "They are the gods. Pride is their birthright. And Athena wasn't the only one who sought answers."
Aretha nodded weakly.
"He probed me too—searched my thoughts for the truth of Athena. But when she attempted the same... he saw it as an attack. And then... he struck her. Tore her out of me."
She stood up, her voice quiet.
"Excuse me... I must offer prayers to the gods."
Without waiting for a response, she stepped into the temple's shadow. The darkness swallowed her figure.
CAVERN
"Lord Atrius... I've come to bargain."
Hippolyta's voice echoed softly through the dim cavern.
Within, the towering figure of Atrius sat hunched over a jagged fragment of his armor, turning the scarred helm over. He did not look at her immediately. Before she arrived, he had been studying the damage again—obsessing over how to restore its function despite its battered state.
He did not rise.
"What is it the Queen of Women seeks from me?" he asked coolly, his voice devoid of ceremony.
He had been brooding—replaying the encounter with the woman he had mentally crushed before. In probing her, he had discovered truths that made him question why he hadn't done it sooner. He had been reluctant to harm humans without cause. A vestige of restraint that felt, now, like a foolish courtesy.
Constantine would have mocked him for it.
From her thoughts, Atrius uncovered something staggering.
Gods.
He had suspected the Amazons worshipped beings they considered divine. The temples had confirmed as much. But he assumed them to be false—primitive deceptions like those of savage cults.
He was wrong.
These gods were real. And more terrifyingly, they were foreign. Unknown. No record of them existed in the vast Custodes archives—not among the Eldar gods, nor any pantheon of man or xeno.
He was not merely displaced in space.
He was utterly beyond known existence.
"I seek protection," Hippolyta said, breaking his thoughts. "From a god."
Atrius turned to her, his eyes narrowing. The words intrigued him.
"And what makes you believe I am capable of such a feat?" he asked, almost amused. "Even if I were... why would I help you?"
"I do not know if you're capable," she admitted. "Nor if you're willing. But now... you are my only hope."
He tilted his head, silently observing her.
"What do I stand to gain?" he asked. "Why do you need protection—from those you claim to serve?"
He already suspected the truth. The Amazons were creations of these foreign gods. Their loyalty was forged in divine will. And yet... here their queen stood, speaking of protection.
How ironic.
He had learned much in the past few days. What he hadn't learned was why these gods—unknown to all Imperial records—were here. Why humans existed here. And how far from home he truly was.
The silence in the cave was long. Heavy.
Outside, the wind howled across the cliffs.