Fates Change

OZYMANDIAS

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is
Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

-Percy Bysshe Shelley

Their age was over. The shattered remnants of worlds littered the sky. The last planet torn in half and armored gods holding swords and dying on a fiery battleground all around them. Had it all been for nothing she wondered? They were Gods in an age of Gods, yet with each passing moment the end grew closer.

The Second World was done.

A new age, the Third World was emerging and there was nothing they could do to stop it. By their own hand, their downfall gave rise to it. New Gods already moved to fill the void, sweeping away everything of the past.

It can't end like this, she thought, it just can't. She was a Goddess among Gods, yet all that remained was one mad dash away, even as the past and future descend towards her. There is no real escape, only delaying it for a few more moments of life. She reached the end of the universe, the Source Wall and knew there's no place left to run. She felt the Wall slowly start to drag her in. The future and the new world rushed towards her, ready to wipe her from existence. Hubris and overconfidence has been their own undoing. There was no escape. She would join the countless others in the wall as another monument who's name and history was forgotten as the ages changed. No one would sing songs of her glory and worship at her alters.

NO! She refused to be forgotten. She refused to allow her name to disappear without a fight.

One final act of defiance was all she has left. Summoning all the power that used to make worlds tremble, she sent a beacon out into the new age in the hope that her name would live on. As she began to merge with the Source Wall and fade from this existence, her last thought was of the future.


Fawcett City

A storm was moving in. The dark ominous clouds cast the city in shadows of gray and black. Jagged bursts of lightening flared across the sky. Moments later the rumble of thunder began. Mary Batson had just turned eighteen and was on her way home to the apartment she shared with her twin brother, Billy. To those passing her on the street, she appears to be, a young, innocent and wholesome teenager.

Looks can be deceiving.

Saying the word 'SHAZAM' used to transform her into Mary Marvel, superhero, but no more. She had lost so much in her life. Twenty years trapped in suspended animation had left her feeling out of step with the world around her.

Identity.

Each of us has two identities, a personal and a social. The social was how others in society saw and perceived us. The personal was how we see ourselves.

Both identities were now in question for Mary. To others, including her friends and family, Mary had always been a mirror image of her brother, Billy, good-natured, wholesome, innocent and perhaps a bit naïve. Then came Black Mary. To say they were shocked was an understatement. Everyone agreed it just had to be that she was under the influence of someone or something else. That wasn't her. Mary was a sweet teenager, who wanted to do good like her brother.

That was how she saw herself most of the time. Through all of her life's twists and turns, she'd tried to remain that sweet innocent kid she'd always been. There were moments, though, especially since she'd lost her powers, when she found herself questioning whether that was who she still was. In the wee hours of the morning as she lay in bed, the darkness all around her, the questions would come. Wisps of memories haunted her. That feeling of power that used to ripple through her had left its mark.

She knew it was all gone, yet the anger remained. They all thought it was part of becoming Black Mary, but it had started earlier when she woke up in the hospital.

No visitors, none, she had been informed.

Alone, abandoned, forgotten by her family and friends, everyone. It was as if she'd never existed and everyone just moved on with his or her lives. There wasn't even a card.

That pain had never left.

She spent all her young life trying to be a role model and help others in their time of need, yet when she faced her own crisis, she faced it alone. No one stepped in to help her, they just moved on. There were no explanations given to her for any of it. The cruelest cut of all was after she recovered and Billy finally saw fit to contact her. He was Shazam at the time and instead of offering his sympathy, he just said, "maybe you weren't meant to be a hero."

Fuck you, she had wanted to scream, but the words had never left her lips.

Everyone had moved on with their lives and forgotten her. That was one of the great temptations of Black Adam's power. With it, no one could ignore her. If she couldn't get their attention by being good, well then she would get it another way. Now that was gone too.

Billy had lost his powers and seemed to have accepted it for now. He had the unwavering faith that only the young can have that he would be Captain Marvel again one day. Mary had tried her best to move on, yet the memories persisted. Little nagging doubts began to creep in. Questions of self appeared. Who am I? How do I fit in? That identity that everyone had for her, she started to wonder was that who she really was anymore? What was her role now? Had she become trapped in that role forever?

The rain began and Mary pulled her jacket tighter as she picked up her pace towards home. Around her people ran for cover. The winds began to whip, tossing her chestnut hair around her classic, All-American features.

She was eighteen. Despite how everyone treated her, she wasn't a little girl anymore. While innocence and naivety can be enduring in the young, there comes a time when you have to move on and transition into adulthood.

Classmates were going off to college or getting jobs; some even had started families, yet Mary felt as if she were in limbo. She'd tried talking to Billy about it, but he didn't seem to understand. She'd noticed a growing frustration on her part with him. They had both been through so much in their young lives, yet he seemed to blissfully remain in some Peter Pan existence where only his body matured.

The question kept coming in her mind, where did she fit into the world now? She couldn't talk to Bill and Freddy had moved on with his life. She felt alone, unsure what the future held for her. There was such a deep sense of betrayal and abandonment. If she wasn't Mary Marvel then who was she? Was she just that sweet kid everyone took for granted and so easily forgot? Hadn't they all abandoned her again? Even Billy seemed to be biding his time, waiting to return to being Captain Marvel. When that happened, he would leave her too.

She continued to walk home alone, not paying any attention to the growing storm.


Themyscira – The Queen's Bedchamber

The pale, silk curtains swayed and billowed in the winds of the storm. Rain lashed against the terrace that overlooked the city and harbor. The crash of thunder and the flash of lightening strobe against the sky, yet went unnoticed by the room's occupation.

Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons, slumbered and dreamed.

"Hippolyta," a voice barely discernable whispered. The sound skimmed across her mind like a feather against her skin, barely grazing it, but drawing her unconscious attention. She shifted under the covers, rolling onto her side towards the terrace that overlooks the sea. Pale moonlight peaks out behind the dark clouds, bathing the room with an otherworldly quality.

"Hippolyta."

The voice was like a lover's caress, tantalizing her. Her eyes shifted under their closed lids.

"Hippolyta."

A mist formed in her mind's eye, as images float passed her. They were like postcards haphazardly tossed into the air, disjointed and out of order. Past, present and future jumble and twisted before her eyes. In the distance, music played a haunting tune that seems to draw her forward.

"Hippolyta."

In her dream, Hippolyta stood and slowly moved towards the balcony. She clutched the night gown to her, as the wind causes it to billow and flutter. The call of her name seemed to come from one spot, yet everywhere at the same time. As she reached the railing, the moon seemed impossibly large. Stray clouds cross over its face and with each its appearance changed. She stood transfixed as the pale light bathed her timeless beauty. The rain soaked her to the skin, yet she couldn't seem to move from the spot.

The flutter of wings finally made her turn. Blinking away the raindrops, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. A single black bird crossed through her field of vision and she watched it until it landed in the tree in the royal courtyard. Other black birds had already filled all the branches, the limbs bowed under their combined weight. Their black, dead eyes all stared at the Queen. For some unknown reason fear gripped her heart. She stumbled backwards, wanting to tear her eyes away, yet she couldn't.

Her foot caught on the tile of her bedroom and she tumbled. Twisting in midair, she managed to land on her hands and knees. Her breath finally came in stuttering gasps, as her eyes looked down in confusion. She was no longer in her bedchamber, but on the dirt. Lifting her head, she saw the world has changed around her. Her breath caught in her throat, for she knew this place. 32000 years had passed, but it would always be burned into her memory.

One forever remembered the spot of their death.

The rolling hills stretched out in every direction, dotted here and there by caves. She had been a mortal woman here so very long ago. It was a hard, cruel and short life. The crunch of gravel finally made her turn and she saw him, the one who killed her. He was a pathetic excuse for a man, more animal than anything else, yet the sight of him sent a dagger of fear through her heart.

He stopped and looked at her, a cruel smile on his caveman lips.

"If you'd remained on your knees back then, none of what happened would have been necessary," he cruelly offered. He was dressed in skins and carried a rough club, but it was those cold, dead eyes she remembered. Slowly Hippolyta rose to her feet and looks down at him.

"You're dead,' she finally managed to say.

"Dead and forgotten, except by you,' he replied.

"Why?"

"It's your dream,' he offered. "It appears I made an impression on you. I'm here to help you on your way, although I don't think you're worth it. You never were."

He laughed and turned his back to her. He knelt down next to a campfire and warmed his hands. Hippolyta felt the overwhelming anger building inside of her. Clinching her fists she took a step towards him, thoughts of crushing his skull and destroying him completely filling her mind. As she took the step, she immediately noticed something seems off. Her balance was wrong, as if it had shifted. Glancing down, at first she saw she was dressed in animal pelts, the type she wore so long ago. It took a moment, but then she gasped as she saw the unmistakable curve of her stomach under the hides. Pregnant. How was that possible? She looked up at him and he was laughing.

'Again, your dream,' he repeated. "It's Queen now, isn't it? Who knew I was killing a Queen all those years ago."

"This-This isn't, this can't be, I…" She stammered, but found she can't finish her thought.

"A child, Hippolyta,' the caveman said. "Your fondest dream has always been to have a child. You wanted so desperately to have one before I ended your life, didn't you?"

"But I have one, Diana,' she managed to reply.

"But she's grown and in your deepest, most secret heart you desire for another,' he said. "A child from you own body, Hippolyta. You've always wanted to be a mother more than anything else."

"It's-It's not possible,' she stammered.

The caveman fell back laughing. The sound was more like some animal's grunt and braw rather than anything human. The hatred and anger came back to Hippolyta as she glared down at him. Her fingers curled into fists.

"Not possible? You're still as dumb as you were all those years ago,' he laughed. "Anything's possible, you stupid cow!"

"Shut up,' she snapped. It was a command from someone used to giving them, yet the caveman just smiled wider.

"You're no Queen here,' he said, a touch of menace in his voice. He scrambled to his feet again, his club in his hand. "I grow bored with this. You have many things to see before the night ends, Hippolyta. Agonies like you never imagined and joys too glorious to describe."

"How? How is it possible for me to be with child,' she found herself asking.

"Dreams and memories, you stupid witch,' he replied. "This is how you were so long ago. Seeing you again, I think I will save you the rest of your torment, just as I did all those years ago. I will finish what I started."

The club was raised above his head and he let out a scream as he rushed towards her. Fear gripped Hippolyta as a sense of déjà vu filled her. It was just like the last time, her frantic mind thought.

"No."

The word wasn't heard above his wail, but it came from her lips. Stepping to the side, she dodged his clumsy attack and struck him. He staggered but didn't fall. Hippolyta hit him again and again, the anger from all those years ago fueling her blows. Blood began to splatter, but she continued driving her fist into his face and head. He had long stopped making any sound and lay prone on the ground as she took her vengeance on him.

A gust of wind came from nowhere and the grit and sand scraped against her face, blinding her. She turned from the wind, covering her eyes against it. It seemed to swirl all around her and she stumbled for cover. Feeling her way along the rocks, she found the edge of the cave mouth. Desperate to escape the biting sand and grit, she plunged through the opening and inside.

She could hear the wind howling outside, yet darkness was all around her. Rolling onto her back, Hippolyta looked for the opening, yet couldn't find it. Stygian night surrounded her in a warm, clammy embrace. Her fingers searched for something, anything to hold onto, but the wall were smooth as glass. The sound of a match being struck caused her a turn. A clocked figure had its back to her as the wick in a lantern is lit. Hippolyta rose and stood ready to attack.

"Who are you,' she asked. "I warn you, I will defend myself!"

The figure's shoulders dipped and rose as if they were laughing.

"I thought I was the fighter, sister,' a voice said.

Hippolyta straightens up, caught off guard by the voice. The figure turned towards her and pushed back the cowl. Long flowing blond locks tumbled down the figure's back.

"Antiope,' Hippolyta gasped in shock and surprise. Antiope smiled and picked up a small round crystal sphere from somewhere Hippolyta couldn't see.

"You seemed surprise? Do you have any other sisters," Antiope asked.

"But-but how?'

"To sleep perchance to dream, sister,' Antiope answered. "Anything is possible in dreams. This is also a special night, dear Hippolyta, as humans will be touched by a power long forgotten to this world. You may even see the future, or part of it."

Antiope tossed the crystal sphere towards Hippolyta. She raised her hands to catch it, but as it neared it grew in size and began to glow.

"Sister, what?" Hippolyta started to ask, but the sphere was on her or more accurately, enveloping her. She struggled to resist, yet the crystal sphere continued to draw her in. She looked frantically over at Antiope, but she was already turning back to snuff out the lantern.

"Antiope!"

"I am not real, sister, just a familiar face to help you on your way,' Antiope replied. "A word of advice, not all is real in dreams, sister. Many hear the call, but only a few are chosen. Farewell."

She snuffed out the lantern wick with her fingertips and the cave went black, except for the glowing crystal that was consuming Hippolyta. She fought with all her strength, but it was no use, the pull of the crystal was just too strong. Hippolyta closed her eyes and held her breath, as her head was the last part pulled inside. When she opened them again giant snowflakes drifted all around her. She could feel it under her feet, yet if it was dry and synthetic. It suddenly hit her she was underwater, yet it didn't seem like any water she had felt before. She was able to breath, yet it had a gelatinous feel to it. Turning her head from side to side, she took in her surroundings. Hippolyta saw it was a complete winter scene, with a cardboard house and massive cardboard trees. The giant flakes floated all around her, accumulating against the bottom.

Muffled sounds came from her right and as she turned, she saw a television off in the distance. It seemed strangely distorted and she shook her head to clear her vision, but nothing changed. Rushing towards it, as fast as she could through the clear liquid she ran into a barrier. A thick layer of glass separates her from the images flashing on the television. Her hands slid against it, Hippolyta followed it upward and saw it curve in overhead forming a dome of some sort. Glancing around, it slowly came to her that she was in some sort of contained half sphere. Shifting her perspective, she realized she had seen something like this before. It was a trinket that sits on a desk, a snow globe she believed it is called.

She pounded her fists against it, but they had no effect. Hippolyta tried to shout, but the viscous liquid allows no sound to come. She refocused her attention on the television screen and realized a battle was being waged. It seemed to be complete chaos, but then the images shifted and changed. She saw Diana, or what she assumed was Diana, for it was her Wonder Woman costume. She was battling what looked like demons, as they attack her from all sides. Hippolyta felt her heart in her throat as the figure valiantly fought against the onslaught. Then out of nowhere, a whip viciously wrapped around Wonder Woman's throat and knocks her off her feet. It must be electrically charged, as Hippolyta saw sparks coming off the body.

In the next moment, dark figures moved at impossible speed up to the stunned form of Wonder Woman and attacked her, plunging daggers into her. Hippolyta screamed, but no sound came. She bashed her fists against the glass, but it had no effect. She watched in horror as Wonder Woman slumped to the ground, blood gushing from her wound. Hippolyta's mind was filled with pandemonium, as she screamed and slammed her fists into the glass wall.

NO, this couldn't be happening, it couldn't, she screamed, yet no sound came through the liquid that surrounding her. Just when she thought she will go insane, the world around her erupted in motion. As if some huge invisible hand had taken hold of the snow globe and shaken it, she was tossed indiscriminately around with the huge dry snowflakes. Snowflakes swirled all around her, as she tried to reach the side again. The images from the television screen twisted and fragmented in front of her vision. She saw heroes carrying a casket with the WW embossed on its lid. A brief flash was of herself lying on a bed on the healing island in labor, with General Phillipus and Epione urging her to push. The screen warped again and a young man and woman stood in a field embracing. This quickly changed into the Wonder Woman armor being passed onto someone else.

"NO!" She screamed as the snowflakes swirled so thick she could no longer see anything but white.

Hippolyta sat up, still screaming. She wasn't in the snow globe anymore, but in her own bed. There was a knock at her door and the worried voices of her royal guards. Shaken and confused by her dreams, Hippolyta managed to make it to her feet and call out that she was all right. They insisted that she let them in to make sure. Slowly she calmed herself and pulled on her robe. Glancing at the balcony, she could see the storm was still raging. She made it to the door and took a deep breath before opening it. Her guards stared at her and she could see the fear in their eyes.

"As you see, I am well,' she offered to them. Hippolyta managed a weak smile for them. "A bit of a nightmare, is all."

They were visibly relieved. The guards bowed to her and she thanked them before closing the door. She was able to exhale now that she dealt with the guards. She ewnt over to the windows and stepped out onto the balcony. The rain poured down upon her, soaking her to the bone, yet she stood staring out into the ominous sky. The image from her dream of Wonder Woman dead haunted her. Hippolyta would get no more sleep tonight.


Washington, D.C.

Princess Diana stood on her apartment balcony watching the storm move across the sky. There was something portentous about it and her nerves were on edge. The crackle of lightening brought goose bumps to her skin. Something, she couldn't put her finger on just what, but Diana knew something was wrong, different.

There had been no call from the tower of an emergency, yet the sense of unease remained. Perhaps her time in the Man's World was finally starting to get to her, she mused. I'm starting to get as paranoid as Bruce.

The violent gash of lightening flickered close by. Diana involuntarily took a step back only to feel two strong hands slide along her forearms. Her first instinct was to pull away, but she stopped herself. She knew these hands.

"Quite a storm brewing.' The man behind her remarked.

"Yes, Steve,' Diana replied.

"Why don't you come inside,' he suggested. "The storm will pass."

She turned to look at him and almost spoke of her concern. He's a good man and they had been dating for several months now, yet she let the words died on her lips about her concerns. She didn't quite know why. Much like the rest of their relationship, she hadn't taken that final step with him.

Glancing back at the storm, the ominous feeling was still there.

"Come on inside, Diana, dinner's getting cold,' Steve suggested.

"All right,' she finally said and they closed the balcony doors to the storm.