SHATTERED WORLDS | DC (2022)

Part 4: Gods vs Gods

Gods

A tense silence fell upon the gathering as Hera and Hippolyta faced each other, the air charged with their clash of wills. Hera's countenance was a mask of icy composure, but her eyes gleamed with a quiet fury. Hippolyta, on the other hand, was a picture of protective defiance, her posture rigid and her gaze hard as steel.

"Hyppolita, this fight must go on," Hera stated, her voice cold and detached.

"And I say it ends now," Hippolyta countered, her tone adamant. "No one else touches my daughter."

"It is not your place to decide," Hera retorted, her voice raising in volume and pitch, a sign of the simmering anger beneath her calm exterior. "Zeus, we need your judgment on this."

Zeus, who had remained quiet until now, reluctantly stepped forward. His imposing figure drew the eyes of all present, lending a gravity to the situation. "Hippolyta," he said in a deep, resonating voice, "the Trial by Combat is an ancient tradition. It cannot be stopped midway."

"I care not for your traditions, Zeus," Hippolyta shot back, her voice echoing through the arena. 

"I won't allow my child to be harmed any further."

"Then you interfere with the laws of the gods, Hippolyta," Zeus warned, a trace of annoyance creeping into his tone. "The fight must be concluded."

"Try and make her," Hippolyta countered, a daring challenge flashing in her eyes. She was a mother first and a queen second; there was no force in heaven or earth that could sway her when it came to protecting her child.

There was a moment's silence as Zeus met her gaze, a frown creasing his brow. He could summon thunder and lightning at will, but the mother's ferocity in Hippolyta's eyes gave even the King of Gods pause. Her resolve was a force to be reckoned with, and as the tension in the amphitheater grew, everyone awaited Zeus's next move.

"Then its treason."

"Treason, you say?" Hippolyta's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Protecting my child is not treason!"

But Zeus was firm. "Seize her," he commanded, and Atlas, Artemis, Hercules, and Athena moved to obey.

The sudden motion was like the spark that set off a powder keg. In an instant, the tranquil amphitheater transformed into a battlefield, as Hippolyta's Amazonians leaped to their queen's defense.

Artemis, the moonlit huntress, found herself face-to-face with Antiope, Hippolyta's general, their bows drawn and arrows notched. Athena, goddess of wisdom and war, crossed swords with Menalippe, the Amazon's oracle, their blades clashing with sparks. Hercules, the strongest of gods, traded blows with Phillipus, the Amazonian's chief warrior, their power shaking the foundations of Olympus.

Atlas, holding up the heavens, was unable to join the fight, but his gaze was focused on Hippolyta, watching for any move from the Amazon Queen that might threaten Zeus. The other gods watched on, some with disinterest, others with barely concealed glee. For the denizens of Olympus, who were used to a certain level of drama, this was high entertainment.

In the midst of it all, Zeus stood like a statue, his gaze fixed on Hippolyta, his expression unreadable. But there was a tightening around his eyes, a slight downturn of his mouth. He had not wanted this. He had hoped for a peaceful resolution.

But it seemed peace was not in the cards.

The arrival of Superman's regime in Olympus, accompanied by the menacing Yellow Lantern Corps, shifted the balance of the chaotic brawl that had broken out in the divine assembly. It was a sight that would have made an unforgettable painting – a battle between gods, demigods, amazons, Lanterns, and superheroes. The amphitheater was filled with clashing weapons, magical bursts of power, and the shouts of combatants.