THEMYSCIRA – THRONE HALL, LATE AFTERNOON
"Nice plan, Heracles. Well done."
Click. Click. Click.
Footsteps echoed sharply against marble, each step deliberate and echoing like judgment itself. The sound cut through the stale silence that had settled after Heracles' tirade, commanding all attention to the chamber's grand entrance.
"Just one flaw," the voice continued, crisp and laced with cold amusement. "Like Ares, most of your brain lies in your biceps."
Heracles scowled, rising from his bowed posture as the figure came into view.
"I mean really... why reveal your plan at all? That's the fastest way to make sure it never happens."
A woman walked into the light. Her movements were graceful measured with a poise that spoke of wisdom, not arrogance. Her long robes shimmered with threads of starlight, and her once-white eyes now glowed with divine gold. Her presence altered the very air: heavy, ancient, intelligent. The scent of myrrh and lightning accompanied her.
Heracles' brow furrowed. His breath caught in his throat.
"You... you're Athena!" he barked, his voice rising in disbelief.
"What are you doing here?" he added with venom, his tone turning caustic as if her very presence burned him.
She smiled—sharp, knowing.
"Why, aren't you happy to see your dear sister?" she said with mocking sweetness. "Father sent me to collect you. And rest assured..." her smile deepened with intent, "He's quite pleased you failed to kill Hippolyta."
A flash of dread crossed Heracles' face.
'That was the whole point', he thought bitterly. 'If I had died here, at least it would have meant something'.
His earlier defiance crumbled into quiet gloom.
From her throne, Hippolyta stood with regal composure. Lyssipe and Agape flanked her immediately, hands at the ready.
"Welcome to Themyscira, Lady Athena," Hippolyta greeted respectfully, voice calm but clearly wary of the goddess in mortal guise.
Athena bowed her head lightly, eyes surveying the hall with ancient indifference.
"Always a pleasure. Don't stand on ceremony—Aretha is fine. I won't be here long."
"Very well," Hippolyta replied with a slight nod. "We've kept him bound to prevent... complications. He may depart at your word." Even the queen, for all her pride, spoke with the deference due a daughter of Olympus.
Athena's golden eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Are you so eager to be rid of me, Queen of Amazons? No welcome tour? It's been ages since I last walked these halls."
Hippolyta's eyes widened slightly, taken aback.
"...As you wish, Lady Athena." She gestured toward the marble corridors beyond the throne room. The two women walked side by side into the depths of the palace.
"Wait—what?!" Heracles roared behind them. "You're just going to leave me here?! With these man-hating savages?!"
His shackles responded with a harsh clang, constricting around his limbs.
"Damn it! Ladies—I get it! Enough with the chains already!"
The Amazons ignored him.
"What shall we do with him in the meantime?" Agape asked quietly, still eyeing Heracles with caution.
"We wait," Lyssipe replied. She narrowed her eyes, watching Athena and Hippolyta disappear into the torch-lit corridor beyond. Something about the goddess's presence didn't sit right.
CAVERN – MOMENTS LATER
Atrius sat cross-legged by a tranquil pond. The soft burble of water echoed softly through the chamber, its still surface reflecting the flicker of golden sunlight. The custodian of the Emperor ran his calloused fingers along the battered surface of his armor—each scratch, dent, and warp.
This set had served him barely two millennia. Warp-touched. Daemon-burned. Even the golden gleam of its original form had dulled under the weight of service. He had reforged more suits of armor than any Custodes still breathing.
Now, it lay beside him like a wounded companion.
His current garment—a humble robe stitched together by Amazonian hand—hung awkwardly over his immense frame. Though grateful, he felt awkward. Soft cloth had not touched his skin since the day of his awakening, cradled in a capsule, clothed by Constantin Valdor, the second face he ever knew.
'Too long have I gone without armor', he thought. 'This flesh feels exposed'.
Then—footsteps. Graceful. Confident. Echoing softly through the cave's stone mouth.
He looked up.
Hippolyta entered, flanked closely by Lyssipe and Agape—and another. A woman with long robes and glowing golden eyes.
Atrius turned slightly, observing them. His gaze lingered on the fourth figure. Something... "unclean". Not evil. But layered. Deep. Like two melodies playing from the same mouth.
"Greetings, Atrius. How have you fared?" Hippolyta's voice was calm, respectful.
Atrius raised an eyebrow at her tone. She was more composed than their last meeting. More... sovereign. Something had shifted.
"Greetings, Queen of Women," he replied, voice like thunder muffled by silk. "Are you here to honor the promise of a forge?"
Agape shifted uncomfortably. The air thickened with tension.
Athena, or rather Aretha, now stepped forward.
"Is this the stray god you've claimed to have found?" she asked, voice melodic and calculating.
"Indeed, Lady Athe—"
Before Hippolyta could finish, Athena began to rise, her feet no longer touching the ground. An unseen force lifted her, placing her face-to-face with the now-standing Atrius, who loomed taller than any mortal or demigod present.
Atrius' expression darkened. His eyes narrowed.
His voice turned grim.
"There are two in you... why?" he asked. His tone was neither accusing nor curious—it was knowing.
The Amazons panicked.
"Unhand her, Lord Atrius!" Agape pleaded. "She means no harm!"
Atrius did not move. Nor did he speak. He simply watched. Analyzing. Feeling.
There was no Warp-scent—no daemon presence. But the imbalance was unnatural. One spirit slumbering. The other..... controlling.
Lyssipe gripped her sword hilt, every muscle taut. Hippolyta, ever the warrior-queen, simply watched, eyes sharp with caution.
Then—it happened.
Atrius' eyes ignited—flaring with golden light as his psychic potential surged. The cave itself trembled faintly. Dust fell from the stone ceiling. Light met light. Athena's own eyes shimmered—then flickered. Her breath hitched.
"No—no!" she gasped, her voice cracking. "Unhand me! Hmgh—release—NO!"
The air filled with the hum of raw energy as Athena struggled against the invisible force—not physical, but metaphysical. Not brute strength, but the will of a Custodian engineered to detect truth, deception, and anomalies.
The tension in the chamber climbed like a drawn bow.