DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using the character from the DC Universe, which is owned by DC Entertainment (Warner Bros.) and based off the Young Justice cartoon created by Brandon Vietti and Greg Weisman.
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ʙʏ sιʟᴄʀᴏᴡ
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ʙᴇᴛᴀ-ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʙʏ
ᴛʜᴇᴡᴏʀʟᴅʙᴏᴏᴋɢιʀʟ
◇ Author's Notes:
Hello! This is a story that I've wanted to write for a long time now. It's a bit of a re-write actually, and I had it posted on here a quite some time ago. Originally, it was an OC based story, but then I figured that I might as well use Donna Troy, who is one of my all-time favorite DC characters and I believe should have been included in the show! Starts before Season 1 and moves on from there.
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The bravest are surely those who have the clearest vision of what is before them, glory and danger alike, and yet notwithstanding, go out to meet it.
— Thucydides
(460 BC– 395 BC)
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PROLOGUE
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IT WAS SURPRISINGLY COLD IN HELL. No, that wasn't quite right. She shouldn't call it that. She had been to the actual Underworld and could say with confidence that even the domain of the dead was far more pleasant than where she was now. This place was more like an inescapable fever dream: a perpetually twilit stygian landscape born from the collective fears of any who dared to walk its loam, thriving in the horror and hate and death that soaked its grounds.
Unfortunately, this place was too tangible to Troia to just be a scene from a nightmare – the bruises and dried blood splattered across her face and covering her now torn and dirtied uniform proved that much. This was a place where time crawled so slowly that every second spent here could be played out in agony, driving even the soundest of minds to the brink of insanity.
This place was the beginning of the end.
The ground beneath her feet rattled and loose rocks fell from the cavernous ceiling. The air felt as sharp as ice and her chest ached with each breath she took, but the adrenaline surging through her veins warmed her body and reignited life into her bones.
A war was raging, and she was determined to fight.
That was who she was.
That was what she was created to do.
The heavy shackles that had been restraining her for so long - for Kronos' sake, Troia couldn't even begin to guess how much time had passed since her capture - laid before her on the floor, leaving her wrists bleeding and raw. As her dark and tired eyes flickered about, carefully observing the dangerous environment she was stuck in, a grave thought passed through her mind.
'I'm going to die here.'
It wasn't dread she felt at this bleak realization, but rather a sense of peace and closure. For so long, she had wondered what would be the cause of her demise, when the final blow would land.
She was Donna Troy, hero Troia, warrior of Themyscira, and at the brink of death, she was more determined than ever to win. If this indeed were to be her last stand, then she would make sure that it counted for something.
The stone cavern was dim. Smoke billowed from the freshly-extinguished torches lining the wall, filling the air with the odor of brimstone. A large hearth in the back of the dungeon flashed with green fire, though instead of giving off warmth, the ghastly flames absorbed heat, draining any remaining life from the room around it.
In front of the hearth, the silhouette of a red and yellow-clad body was just illuminated by the pale green light, silent and unmoving.
Troia, who was still in shock, wanted to rush to her friend's aid and hold him in her arms. Tell him that there was still more to be done, that he couldn't leave them now.
Tears threatened to spill from her eyes and she held back the feeling of bile climbing up her throat; her arms trembled and lips quivered, but she couldn't break down and show vulnerability. Not here, not now.
'May your shade be quick to find peace in Elysium,' she prayed for her dear and beloved friend beneath her breath, the Greek words swirling around her.
But she had to remind herself that he was a hero, a warrior, just like her and all their teammates. They knew the risks when coming here. They all acknowledged that it was likely not all of them would make it back.
That was the life of a superhero: making sacrifices for the greater good.
But still, her brother-in-arms deserved so much better, and it was unfair for this to be his doom. It had happened so quickly that she hadn't had a chance to react.
He had foolishly run in to free Troia from her confines just as the chamber doors closed. Little had her teammate known the true strength of their foe – as not even his knowledge of future matters could have helped him.
The moment he had raced forward to free her from her chains, a beam of red light had shot out from the dark. Kid Flash had scrambled, attempting to avoid becoming another casualty to the endless war they had become entangled in, but not even he had been able to outrun death in the end.
Troia had been unable to assist, barely able to stand on her scathed legs which had numbed from lack of use, and was forced to watch in horror as Kid Flash was blasted again and again with beams of pure energy until he finally crumpled to the floor. She had desperately wanted to shout and swear, but Troia had long ago screamed herself hoarse and her throat seared with fire.
From outside the dungeon's iron doors, Troia could hear the battle cries of her other teammates as they waged war against demons and monsters far worse than any creature from her own pantheon. Not even her gods would have created monstrosities so terrible.
A burst of hysterical laughter, deep and dark, echoed off the walls – a howl fueled by madness and a lust for power. Troia, her body still shaking from fatigue and shock, turned to face where her enemy now stood. She had to focus.
Its eyes burned red as it smeared fresh blood across its metal armor. The aura the beast gave off was as dark as a black hole. She had never seen any man or god with such a churning, sour saturation, not even Hades himself.
It was evil incarnate.
Troia stared down the villain and clenched her teeth, blood trickling down from her forehead. She needed to end this before anyone else she cared about got hurt — before anyone else died. The vile creature that had brought her team to this alien place needed to be taken down once and for all.
Troia prayed to the gods that she would be able to fulfill her duty.
Her destiny.
"Troy..." It grinned with sickening bemusement. "I presume after that insignificant city of your world? Well, just like it, you too will fall."
She smirked back playfully, shoving the fear and nausea and anger she felt deep down. "I'd like to see you try."
"They said you were made to end me," the towering creature called out, its voice strident and consuming, unaffected by her banter. "Let me spill your blood and show that no prophecy can stop my conquest."
Troia carefully watched as the enemy strode forward, its eyes began radiating red once more, ready to strike. She said nothing in return to the taunt, instead focused on what her first attack would be - she would need to be unpredictable yet precise with each blow. The monster was not going to be defeated easily.
The floor shook with each step it took forward, and Troia was thankful that she was wearing armor blessed by the gods.
Breathing calmly, Troia remembered the years of training she'd had before this fight. This wasn't her first battle with a demon, but this was undoubtedly going to be the toughest. She wasn't going to let this vile beast get the better of her. Her eyes never wavered from the oncoming threat. She had no fear for the Dark God to pick up on.
She licked her lips in anticipation. If this was how she died – defeating an evil that had killed so many innocents – then so be it. Troia had come to accept this as her fate.
Bringing her left arm forward, Troia held the silver shield etched with archaic runes of protection in front of her body while her right hand reached for the sword sheathed in the jeweled scabbard on her waist.
Troia blinked, and the god charged.
✥.✥.✥
◇ A/N: A sneak peek into the possible future this story will go...