Disclaimer: This is written for fun, solely for the enjoyment of those who cannot stand thinking inside the box. I make no money of this, and none of the characters are mine.

AN: I know most people do this at the end, but all work is edited by IMFACI

Chapter One – The Lady of Clay

Themyscira had been their haven for generations. Their bondage at an end, her sister Amazons had set out to create the Elysium fields of earth and it came close because of the blessings of their gods. Apollo reigned overhead as she wandered along one of the distant fields from her home, near the Bana regions of the island. She rarely crossed over there, though she had been welcomed more than once. Something about the Bana put her on edge.

Flowers were in full bloom and birds sung all around her. She reveled in her home and lay in the grass, letting Apollo warm her. She could hear her sisters in the background, training yet again for the day when the Amazons would break their exile and return to the world. Her mother had told her more than once that the world of the Patriarch was a cruel place and that she and her sisters would need to be ready for the battle that is yet to come.

It seemed all so pointless to her though. How could they be expected to fight that which they did not understand? It would be like Hecate's reign all over again. She closed her eyes, letting the wind wash over her form. If she thought her mother would allow it, she would fly now and see the world from up high. Up there it seemed so distant, so small in comparison to things.

She felt it. The first drop washed against her face, and then another, and another. Opening her sky blue eyes she looked up to see dark clouds rolling in overhead. That was odd, rain rarely fell on Themyscira. She could hear someone calling for her, and got up to head back to the Palace. Her mother was probably worried now; when storms did come, they were harsh.

She ran through the fields as fast as she dared. The world around her was much too fragile for her to run at her full speed. She broke the last hedge and came to a stop. Themyscira, the home of her people, lay burning. She could hear the sounds of fighting through the streets and ran forward to help.

Bodies were strewn about, hundreds of her sisters and the invaders were dead. She met one invader, swiftly punched him and watched as he fell. She met another, gave a roundhouse kick to the ribcage that sent him flying through the wall. Had the descendants of Hercules come to exact revenge?

"Diana, Diana, Diana," a malevolent voice growled. "It's amazing what the rain brings, isn't it?"

Diana spun around, to see Ares. His eyes cold as he stared at the blessed of Olympus. "What have you done?"

"Returned the favor," Ares growled out. "Aphrodite should have learned her lesson the last time and not interfered in my affairs. My most faithful, now lap dogs of the goddess of love."

The way he spat her name, it was surprising that they were ever lovers at all. Diana was suddenly forced back into a wall, through it and through another. Ares stalked towards her slowly. He brandished no weapon, as the true God of War never needed to.

"You know Diana, I think I will keep you alive, to make you suffer," he ran a hand over her cheek, she squirmed at his touch. His presence was revolting, how the Goddess of Love could ever have laid with this creature was beyond her.

Ares moved his face closer to hers, only to be thrown back. She opened her eyes to see a shadow eclipsing her. He was dressed in red and blue, with a flowing red cape, and a strange symbol in gold etched on his back. A diamond of pure gold, with a single, red line etched across it.

His head cocked slightly to the side, he looked at her. "I am glad I made it on time."

"Who are you," she asked softly.

"Now's not the time for games, Diana," he said turning back to the struggling god. "Your mother is launching a counter attack against Ares' forces. We're the ones left to deal with him."

Her answers could come later. She settled into a fighting stance, wishing that she had worn her armor instead of a toga. She reached down slightly, and ripped off the lower portion from around her legs. She looked up to see the man staring at her. She quirked an eyebrow and he blushed.

"What are you staring at?"

"The best pair of legs on the planet," he said honestly. There was warmth there, and desire, but not the objectification her mother had told her she had gone through. Who was he?

"You will regret interfering, Last Son," Ares growled, throwing off energy blasts to clear the debris from around him.

"The only thing I regret is letting you live," the man said darkly. He rushed forward, faster than anyone she knew save herself. She watched, jaw slacked, as the man slammed into Ares and sent him flying! It shouldn't be possible; she was supposed to be unique as champion.

"Diana, I can't do this alone," he roared, holding Ares. Even Hercules, for all his strength, had trouble when confronted by the power of the War God.

Diana nodded, running forward; she spring boarded off a broken piece of concrete and slammed her foot into the struggling God of War. The stranger twisted out of the way fast enough that the god simply flew away from both of them, into another building. They stood side by side as the ground began to rumble.

"I will not be denied!" Ares threw off far more power, burning the world around him to ash. Pieces of building splashed against them, doing no harm.

"I warned you once," another voice called out. "I warned you that my last son would never be yours, and yet you never chose to listen."

"Rao," Ares roared, only for his voice to be silenced. Crystals grew up around him, enshrouding him in until he was engulfed completely. The Crystal shrunk and flew over to the one Ares had called Rao.

"A price is called for," he said softly, before putting the crystal in his pocket. He turned and looked at both of them, one a child of his evidently. Was he a god?

She turned. Now that the God of War was contained she looked at him.

He was a man in his thirties, strutted with the confident prowl of a warrior, but with a serene smile on his face. He looked proudly at the Last Son and then smiled brightly at her. "I knew you two would find one another, the Last son and the Doll, how fitting."

"What is going on," Diana asked. She was tempted to scream about being called a doll.

"It's time for you to wake up," the Last Son told her softly, stepping before her, leaning down and planting a chaste kiss on her lips. She gasped…

She shot up in her bed, unable to believe what had happened. Inhale. Exhale. She calmed her racing heart. She was a warrior of the Amazon; she would not be thrown off by something as simple as a kiss.

"Great Hera, who was that," she breathed, closing her eyes and collapsing back into her bed. There was something so familiar about the man, and something familiar about the longing. She couldn't believe he had kissed her, who was that?

"You're dreaming again," her mother said softly, looking at her from a chair next to her bed.

"Why are you here, mother," she asked, hiding her shock behind the military demeanor drilled into her head since she was a little one.

"Your nightmare, whatever it was, shook the palace," Hippolyta gave her a weary smile. "What troubles you, my daughter?"

"Just a nightmare mother," she said quickly. She didn't like thinking about her nightmares, they had been growing closer lately.

"Daughter, this is the fourth one that you have had in as many days. If there is something that we can do…you just need to tell us."

Hippolyta had not aged a day since she had thrown off the yoke that Hercules had bonded them in. To make amends for his son, Zeus had granted immortality to those who had followed Hippolyta's order to let those who had held them go, and given them the isle that they now existed in and drew it away from the world. They had heard stories of a foreign god and his influence on things still did little to mend the wound the Amazons had suffered. Their service to Hecate had been forced and yet they were blamed for the orders of the witch queen. She had seen much in her service to her people, and yet she had never seen one troubled so. The Oracles could not make sense of the nightmares that had afflicted the young champion.

"It's just, I don't know mother… but Ares is up to something," Diana began. "I see him in my nightmares, he is attacking, and we are losing."

Hippolyta nodded. They had their skirmishes with the God of War over the years and to date they had never broken. Their former patron angered over their breaking of service and following their benefactors, Aphrodite and Athena. Her daughter had not seen one of the skirmishes, but she had been trained by the best they had to offer. What was troubling her so?

"As we fight, a man appears. He is huge, and he is close to my age. He is wearing a blue-red armor, with a cape of the brightest red. On it is a symbol. I have never seen it before, it's gold with a streak of red through it. As I stand he charges Ares, and they battle."

Now Hippolyta looked surprised. A man on Themyscira! How could their defenses have been breached by a man? She stopped, and looked at Diana.

"What do you mean he fought Ares," Hippolyta asked.

"I don't know how to describe it mother, he was as strong as I am," she said excited. Though her sisters were strong, they had not the strength to match her at her fullest. "He hurt Ares, mother, and I mean badly. The War God called him the Last Son."

Hippolyta's eyes narrowed. The Last Son, the Star of Laberos Rao, the true protector of the Princess, the Oracle had told her all those years ago. Just after the birth of Diana, the stars flashed and rocks descended from the heavens towards a land to the west. Was this connected?

"I would not worry about it dear, Ares would not dare move against us now," she said, touching her daughter's hair in comfort. It was so foreign to her, to try and give comfort, but her daughter had not been born in their bondage, she didn't know all of their hardships, and if she had anything to say about it, she never would. "You should rest, daughter. Tomorrow we will test you for the Champions Armor."

Diana nodded, and laid back down. Her right hand touched her lip gently. It was only a dream and yet it felt so real.

Clark stared uselessly at the stars, wondering why things had gone from bad to worse. His parents refused to lift the home schooling requirement. After watching him ignite a bale of hay on fire by mistake they concluded that his control was nowhere it needed to be to interact with other people. He didn't see what the big deal was. The worst he had done was destroy property, and he had never hurt his parents, had he?

It was all too much; he threw the book he had been trying to read at the wall. It shattered. He stared as the pages fluttered to the ground.

"See what we're talking about," his father said, stepping up into the loft. "Your powers are still growing, until you know how to control all of them…there are accidents and people might be there if we let you go to school with others."

"It's just so lonely, dad," he said softly.

Jonathan Kent nodded as he moved to sit next to his son in all but blood.

"I wish I could help you," he said softly. "I know this is hard…"

"That's just it," Clark nearly screamed. "No one knows. I envy people for that sense of normal that I will never know."

He shook his head. His son, for all the powers, was still a teenager, so dramatic at times. "You know they said God crafted man from clay and took half a soul and crammed it in there. That he breathed life into him and in the end, God had to craft another, because Adam could not stand the fact he was not complete."

Clark shook his head. His dad was not an overtly religious man, he was far too practical for that, but he still thought a lot of answers could be found in faith. He would often tell him "Faith manages," whatever that meant. "I don't think God will be willing to craft someone for me, dad."

"Clark, I have seen a lot of things in this world. A lot of them because of you," Jonathan smiled. "There are wonders out there son, I am sure there is someone out there like you too, someone who is that other half. Don't give up hope."

"I can only hope dad," he said, as the man clapped him on the back. If he hadn't seen his dad do it, he would not have known that he had done anything at all. "Thanks."

"That's what I am here for," he said with a smile. "You should try and get some rest, I need some help in the north fields tomorrow, and low and behold I have an earth mover right here."

Clark laughed slightly. His dad's attempts at humor were something else. He did admit though, as his powers came in, the running of the farm had been a lot smoother. From what he knew the farm had actually managed to turn a profit the last few years because of his help.

"Good night, dad," Clark said as the man retreated back to the house. It wasn't unusual for him to sleep in the loft, it was the one retreat that he still had.

He closed his eyes. It had been a long day.

He opened them, suddenly in a beautiful forest. There was a cliff nearby. He could hear a woman crying ahead of him. Since he was young, he had come to understand his other senses were at an overactive rate. It was one of the reasons he had started sleeping in the loft. Being able to hear his parents during intimate moments were a little much for him.

He walked forward, and found a beautiful woman kneeling near the cliff. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, her body still shook with sobs. She was extraordinary, easily one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Long black hair, even in disarray, which women would kill for, and a figure and demeanor that suggested to him that she was a fighter.

"Please gods, hear my cry," she breathed. "Please give me a daughter to raise and to love."

He stared in disbelief as the ground rose, and took the form of a woman.

"We give her the beauty of the ages," a voice intoned.

"The wisdom of the ages," another voice intoned.

Lights began to swirl around the form of the woman. The wind picked up and he could hear thunder in the skies.

"We give her the strength to oppose all who would suborn her," another voice called.

"We give her the power to grow and change," another voice called out.

"I give her the breath of life," a final voice boomed, and he felt something stir in himself. He watched as the lights coalesced into the clay form.

He blinked as a bright light expanded from the statue and he stopped. By all that was, whoever this was, she was magnificent. She was as tall as he was, and had long dark hair that went past her shoulders. Her skin was olive toned and flawless. Eyes of crystal blue, and a stunning body. A goddess given form. She blinked once, twice, and then smiled at the woman. She reached up and hugged her.

"Mother," she spoke, her voice soft and full of joy.

"Wha…" the woman began.

"We give you a daughter, Hippolyta of Amazon," the first voice called out. "Her strength is always her true beauty, the true unbroken Amazon. A symbol for your people, and hope for you. Stay strong Hippolyta, we will always reward the faithful."

The blonde, Hippolyta, launched herself forward and hugged the newly born woman, crying against the shoulder of the woman. The new woman brought her arms up and held her tightly.

"A touching scene, isn't it," a new voice said.

Clark spun around to see a man about his father's age walking towards him. "Who are you?"

The man only smiled. "She was created to bring hope to a people that had long since forgotten it. You know she has more power than any human this world will ever see."

"Who are you," Clark repeated, his voice a little firmer.

"You're a little to young to intimidate me, Kal-El," the man said with a smirk.

"My name is Clark," he began, but the man held up his hand.

"I have watched you a long time, son," the man clapped him on the back, Clark stared at him stunned. He had felt that.

"Don't look so surprised Kal-El, after all this is your mind, this is your soul," he said with a wistful look towards the still crying women. "There is nothing quite as beautiful as that connection, when you truly feel that there is something in this world worth fighting for, worth changing it."

"What are you talking about," Clark asked, still stunned that he had felt something at all.

"Clark," the man turned and looked at him. "Kal-El, there is a storm coming."

The world shifted and they were standing on the bear cliff. The forest that they had been in was gone, and he saw the woman rushing towards a village. The village was aflame, and a sinister laugh hung in the air, as giant birds of prey circled about.

"Kal-El, you are at the heart of the storm," the man said. He lifted his hands and then noticed that his clothes were no longer what he had been wearing.

"The woman of clay, she fights a god right now," the man nodded and the view changed and they were in the middle of the city, and the woman was battling with a huge man in battle armor. The fighting was fierce and she was holding her own, but the numbers against her were increasing every moment. He moved to help, but was stopped.

"There is nothing you can do here, Kal-El," the man said softly. "This is only one possibility that we are watching."

"Why are you showing me this," he cried out as a beast locked onto the woman and bit down on her shoulder.

"I want you to understand something, Kal-El," he said shaking his head. "I want you to start on a path that makes things like this nightmare something of a dream."

"Why me," he asked softly. He didn't understand any of this. It went against everything he knew.

"Because, Last Son," the man put a hand on his shoulder. "Because any father wants their children to do well, any father wants their children to be better than they were, and I want you to be something more. For too long my sons and daughters have never lived up to what I wanted for them. For too long they took for granted those great gifts that I gave them, and because life on this world will not survive if you don't."

"What do you mean," Clark looked back to see the woman being overwhelmed by the beasts that had attacked her earlier. The blonde woman from before came rushing towards her, only be struck down.

"You want to help them, don't you?" the man breathed. "You want them to not have to fight these battles. Not because they are women, not because they aren't strong, but because they don't deserve this pain in your eyes."

He nodded.

"Kal-El of Krypton, Clark Kent of Earth, the journey has started, in the name of Rao, go forth, and change this world and know that Krypton is behind you, and always will be."

He turned and looked at the man.

"Kal-El, of the House of El, son of my sons, the time to rise is coming," the man smiled. "She will never know this pain if you take this step."

He held out his hand, and Clark stared at the man. What was going on here?

He reached out, and touched the man's outstretched hand. A brilliant yellow light blasted into him. He gasped in pain, as rays of sunlight broke through the clouds that obscured the world above. The fighting faded from view and he felt weightless.

"Rise Kal-El. Rise and Soar!"

He gasped, snapping his eyes open. He looked around groggily, and reached for the floor to push himself up. That's when he noticed. He snapped straight up and realized he was floating above the couch he had been sleeping on, in the clothes that he had been wearing.

"Clark," his mom was coming up the steps. "We heard you screaming in the house, is everything…"

She trailed off as she stared at her son sitting in the air.

Her mouth dropped and Clark was treated to a rare sight. His mom dropped like a sack of potatoes, and so did he in his panic to get to her. The floor groaned as he pushed himself up and made his way over to her. Even as he checked on her though, the woman made of clay could not leave his mind. Who was she?