Barbara Minerva pushed her hair out of her face and adjusted her glasses. She scribbled down notes and theories into her notebook while quickly rereading the page of the book to double check her work. She was deep in the zone at her college's library burying herself in the studies of the Amazons.
Despite what her colleagues said, Barbara believed that the Amazons were real. She was among the few who believed that the myths of ancient cultures may have been based in reality. Her theory was that the Amazons were mystically empowered by their gods. She believed they were a powerful warrior tribe that valued strength and conquest above all else.
"What's this?" laughed Barbara's classmate, pulling her notebook away while she wasn't looking.
"Viktor!" shouted Barbara at the tall student, "Give that back!"
"Writing another paper on fairy tales, are we?" snickered Viktor, looking over the notebook, "Ooh. So the Amazons did blood sacrifices? Hot!"
Several of Viktor's friends snickered as Barbara ripped the notebook out of his hands and tucked it away into her backpack, red in the face. Maybe part of the reason she was so fascinated with the Amazons was their strength. They would never have to put up with this. Barbara had to put up with it all the time.
A scrawny girl with a slight hunch and an oversized pair of glasses, Barbara had always been low in the social pecking order. College hadn't been any different, only now she was being mocked for her academic beliefs as well as her appearance.
"I can't believe they let you write about this stuff," laughed Viktor, "What a waste of time."
Barbara scowled at Viktor's back as he and his friends turned and walked away. She huffed and returned to her studies. She had to focus on that. If she ever wanted to be taken seriously, she needed to make progress in the field and find more evidence to back up her theories.
"Whoa!" she heard someone say from the other room.
Barbara looked up in confusion. Quite a few voices of astonishment were coming from that room. Barbara put away her things and walked in to check it out. Dozens of students had gathered around the TV mounted on the wall, where the news was playing live footage of a plane on the ground with a smoking turbine.
"Witnesses say it was a goddess who saved the plane," said the reporter.
The video feed cut to a recording of a tall, muscular woman with long black hair standing beside the plane, looking it over. She wore red and blue armor, complete with a sword and shield. Her chestplate bore a stylized golden eagle and a golden rope hung off her hip. She was the most powerful looking woman Barbara had ever seen.
"The woman in question has given no comment and hasn't been seen since," said the reporter, "but the public has already taken to calling her Wonder Woman, after the apparent W-shaped golden symbol on her chest."
"Wonder Woman…" whispered Barbara with a smile, "Wow…"
Eight years later…
Barbara pushed the brush out of the way, kicking her leg through the leaves and forcing herself through the thick foliage. She smacked at a golf ball-sized fly buzzing around her face, spitting as it hovered near her mouth. By moving her hand to do so, she released a branch that swung right back into her face.
"Gah!" she cried out in frustration.
"For crying out loud," sighed the woman behind Barbara.
"That's what we get for letting the geek go first.," said the man next to her.
Barbara and two other A.R.G.U.S. agents were on an island not far from Greece. The island boasted thick, almost jungle-like forests that the team had been working their way through all morning.
Barbara was quite out of her element. Having traded out her usual jeans and T-shirt for lace up boots, thick tactical pants, and a matching jacket. The two trained agents alongside her wore their usual A.R.G.U.S. gear. The three of them had been tasked with locating a temple on the island and investigating it for unusual activity.
Barbara's career had taken quite the turn. Although her theories on Amazons were initially ruthlessly mocked, the introduction of Wonder Woman and other magical beings to the public eye gave credence to her claims. After eventually earning her PhD, Barbara enlisted at A.R.G.U.S. as a researcher specializing in mystical anthropology.
Barbara wasn't a trained field agent, hence the accompaniment of the other agents. Neither of them seemed particularly invested in the mission, but Barbara had little choice but to put up with them. This mission was too important not to.
Barbara's research had led to this island. According to her theory, the Amazons briefly lived here for several generations before leaving to form what would be known as Themyscira. The island had never been visited before, so A.R.G.U.S. sent the scouting team of Barbara and the other agents to search for evidence of Amazon culture.
Barbara gasped.
"There it is!" she squealed.
Barbara looked on at the majestic ivory-white temple held up by worn pillars flanking an enormous set of doors. Barbara ran up to the massive building, leaving her two colleagues behind. She immediately went to push open the doors, but had no luck.
"I'll be damned," muttered one of the other agents, "It really is here."
"Could one of you help me with this door?" asked Barbara, catching her breath.
The female agent rolled her eyes and walked up to the door. She pushed but that didn't budge it. She shoved into it with her shoulder still to no effect. Finally, she slammed into it with her shoulder and clutched the shoulder in pain when that failed too.
"Well now what do we do?" asked the other agent impatiently.
"Well Greek temples were often illuminated by skylights," pointed out Barbara, "Maybe there's something on the roof."
"I guess that's our next step," mused the guard, looking at vines growing on one of the columns.
Both agents turned to look at Barbara.
"What!?" she chirped nervously, "Me? Climb that? No, no, no. I don't do heights very well."
"This is your expedition," said the male agent, shoving Barbara toward the column, "Go."
Barbara stumbled toward the column. She looked up the vines and carefully gripped onto them with one hand. She tugged and was relieved to feel resistance. She pulled herself upward and kicked one of her boots onto a tangle in the vines. She took a deep breath and continued upward. The two agents followed shortly behind her.
When Barbara was about two thirds of the way up, the vine she was gripping with her right arm tore away. Barbara screamed as her right foot slipped off and her whole body swung outward, only clinging onto the column with her left hand and foot. Barbara swung herself back and hugged her arm and leg all the way around the column, clutching on for dear life.
"Okay!" she squealed, "I'm ready to go back down now!"
"The hell?" said one of the agents, "No! We'd all have to go down to get out of your way. You're almost at the top for crying out loud, just go!"
Barbara quietly whimpered. She carefully reached her hand for the next vine and pulled herself upward, lifting her foot to the next foothold as well. Eventually she arrived at the roof, where the knot of vines was thick enough for Barbara to pull herself up. She collapsed on the roof, breathing heavily as she came to terms with what she had just done.
Both of the other agents sighed in frustrated pity when they made it up as well, both in much better shape than Barbara upon arriving. Barbara eventually recovered and joined the agents in walking around the roof, searching for skylight entrances.
"There's one!" smiled Barbara, running up to a large circular hole in the ground, "Ooh, a sundial!"
"Just get a move on," said the female agent impatiently, shoving Barbara forward into the hole.
"Hey! Ah!"
Barbara fell forward for a moment. She barely had time to look at where she might land before she felt a painful stab in her butt. Barbara let out a yelp as her rear end came down on the pointed tip of the tall sundial. Barbara kicked her legs about as she slid off the point, which snagged onto the seat of her pants and left her hanging.
"Ooooh…" she moaned.
"Find anything yet?" asked one of the agents.
"No!" shouted Barbara indignantly, trying in vain to unhook herself, "You gave me a real pain in the butt, you know! Not to mention a wedgie."
"Don't tell me you're not used to those," scoffed the other agent.
"You guys!" whined Barbara.
Rip!
"Oh no."
RRRIIIPPP!
Barbara coughed as she landed chest first on the stone floor of the temple. She felt a cold breeze on the back of her upper legs. Her face turned red as she realized what had just happened. She could hear both of the agents laughing from above.
"Nice undies, Minerva!"
Barbara scrambled to her feet and turned her exposed pink undies away from the agents to pout up at them.
"Stop teasing me and get down here!" called Barbara.
"I don't know about that," said one of the agents, "Looks like quite a drop. Not sure if it's safe."
"YOU PUSHED ME DOWN THAT DROP!"
"And you're going to need us to get back out," pointed out the other agent, "Best we stay here."
Barbara grumbled to herself and turned to walk farther into the temple. She heard the agents snicker as they caught a glimpse of her underpants again. Barbara hadn't exactly worn the most stylish pair. The bright pink briefs were worn and baggy, doing more to hide her butt than accentuate it.
"Whoa…" murmured Barbara as she wandered into another room in the temple.
There was an enormous, beautiful statue that had been sculpted into the form of a muscular woman in a toga bearing a bow and arrow and a deer at her side. The statue was in pristine condition, as if it had been sculpted the day before. At the foot of the statue was a stone chest. Barbara approached and opened the chest.
Barbara recognized the statue as the goddess Artemis. Artemis represented the hunt, the wilderness, and wild animals. Her presence gave more legitimacy to Barbara's theory that the Amazons were a strength-worshipping tribe of warriors. Barbara was certain whatever was in this chest held more clues to the mystery.
Barbara smiled widely on the treasure inside. It was just a single knife, but it was gorgeous to behold. Made of bronze, the hunting knife still shined brightly with even the smallest amount of light. The blade seemed to be as sharp as the day it was made. Barbara cautiously took the knife by the handle and inspected it. She was in awe.
Barbara made her way back to the room with the sundial, where the agents watched her from the skylight.
"Hey!" shouted Barbara, "Guys? I found something!"
"What is it?" asked one of the agents.
"An ancient bronze knife," said Barbara, "It looks like it may have had some religious significance."
"Alright," said the other agent, "Climb on out and we'll bring it back to HQ."
"Climb out?"
"With the sundial."
Barbara sighed as she looked at the tall, pointed structure. The torn cloth from the seat of her pants was still hooked to the tip. Barbara didn't want to end up in a similar situation again. Putting the blade between her teeth, Barbara placed one foot on the slanted sundial, reached around to grip the other side, and began to slowly shimmy upward as she walked up the side. Soon she was at the tip.
"Don't drop the knife!" warned one of the agents, "Here, hand it to me and we'll help you up."
Barbara complied, hanging onto the dial for dear life with her legs and left hand while she removed the blade from her mouth and handed it to the agent with her right. The agent inspected the knife closely, smiling.
"Alright," panted Barbara, straining to stay on the dial, "now help me up!"
The agent chuckled, sliding the knife into her belt and standing up all the way. She lifted her leg and slammed the heel of her boot into Barbara's face. The researcher cried out in pain as her glasses shattered and the impact sent her off the side of the dial and painfully onto her back on the floor below with a splitting headache.
"This is Theta Two," said the agent into an earpiece, "We have the package, over."
"...package?" mumbled Barbara through the pain, unable to see.
The two agents turned and walked away, leaving Barbara to slowly drift into unconsciousness.
Barbara sat quietly at the shiny metal table in front of her, staring at her reflection on the large mirror across the room. She had been found by a retrieval team, given an A.R.G.U.S. brand T-shirt with matching gym shorts, fed and medically cleared, brought back to D.C., and put directly in this room. She had been sitting there for what was easily hours.
Barbara touched just below her right eye and winced. It throbbed on contact. Barbara could tell it was swollen too. That and this ruthless headache were the two presents those A.R.G.U.S. agents had left her, if they even were A.R.G.U.S. agents.
Barbara's heart leapt as she heard the first sign of another human in hours. The door clicked open as Barbara sat straight up and squinted at her guest. She still didn't have her glasses, so making out the woman's face was difficult.
"Dr. Minerva," she said, sitting across from Barbara.
Barbara's heart skipped a beat. Though she still couldn't make out the woman's face, her voice was unmistakable. Barbara was talking to Amanda Waller, the controversial and universally feared Director of A.R.G.U.S. Barbara recognized her voice from the mission debriefing.
"Yes ma'am," nodded Barbara sheepishly.
"Tell me in your own words what happened on this mission," said Director Waller calmly.
"Yes ma'am."
Barbara recounted the story to her boss, though leaving certain details like her pants being ripped open.
"I see," said Director Waller, "and the knife was the only object they escaped with?"
"Correct."
"Thank you," said Director Waller plainly, standing up.
"Wait!" called put Barbara, "Do you know what happened? Who those guys were?"
"I'll let your other visitor fill you in on that," she replied, "She wanted to speak with you personally."
"Other visitor?" asked Barbara as Director Waller opened the door.
"Dr. Minerva, is it?"
Barbra let out a shrill gasp. Standing before her in a black pantsuit with a red blouse was Diana of Themyscira, Wonder Woman herself. Her stature was even more impressive in real life than on TV or in pictures, towering above Barbara and Amanda. Her jacket had clearly been tailored to account for her enormous arms and broad shoulders, which only looked broader with the jacket's shoulder pads. Glimpses of gold at her wrists suggested that she was still wearing her famous bracelets under her sleeves.
"Wonder Woman!" squeaked Barbara, "Princess! Your Highness! Oh, what do I call you?"
"Diana is fine," chuckled the Amazon.
"And you can call me Barbara!"
"I'll let you two get to it," said Director Waller as she left, "Stay here when you're done, Dr. Minerva. Another agent will be by to oversee your release."
"It's an honor to meet you!" beamed Barbara as Dr. Waller closed the door behind her.
"Likewise," smiled Diana, "Director Waller tells me it was your research that led you to that island. Is that true?"
"Yes!" said Barbara proudly, "I've been researching the Amazons my whole career! Oh, there's so much I want to ask you!"
"For now let's focus on the temple you found," said Diana gently, "Did it look Greek in origin?"
"Yes," nodded Barbara.
"What else can you tell me about it?"
"It looked like it was built to worship Artemis," said Barbara, "or at least there was a statue of her. That's about all I saw before I got knocked out."
"And the knife?"
"Oh, right!" remembered Barbara, "There was a chest at the foot of the statue. The knife was inside. I had it, but those other agents took it away."
"Right," nodded Diana contemplatively.
"Diana," continued Barbara, "I would love the opportunity to sit down and talk with you sometime. There's so much people want to know about Themyscira!"
"Another time perhaps," said Diana, "for now I would like to focus on getting that knife out of the hands of the Kobra Cult."
"Kobra Cult!?" gasped Barbara, "That's who those guys were with!?"
"Is there anything else I should know?"
"No," realized Barbara, suddenly insecure about her awkwardness, "Sorry to waste your time."
"Thank you for your help, Dr. Minerva," giving Barbara a firm handshake, "Farewell."
Diana turned and left. Barbara watched the door close behind and nearly swooned. She couldn't believe she had come so close to Wonder Woman, talked to Wonder Woman, touched Wonder Woman, and even helped Wonder Woman! All of the shame and disappointment from her previous failure were gone. That experience was worth every moment if it led to her meeting Diana.
"Thank you," said Diana, raising both hands, "Thank you all for coming."
Camera flashes erupted across the room as Diana emerged from the curtains and approached the podium. A small crowd of journalists stood huddled together, clamoring for the heroine's attention. Barbara watched from the back of the room, adjusting her new glasses.
Almost a week had passed since Barbara lost the knife and met Diana. Diana had just tracked down and retrieved the knife. The press was on the scene to hear Diana's press conference on the incident. Such press conferences were not uncommon among superheroes. It gave them a direct line with the press regarding their image.
A.R.G.U.S. had arrived as well to retrieve the knife from Diana. Barbara had convinced them to take her with, being the foremost expert on the knife's origins. Now she was using her A.R.G.U.S. pass to watch Diana's press conference while her colleagues loaded the knife for transfer a few blocks away.
Barbara desperately hoped she'd get another chance to speak to Diana. Beyond the joy of simply talking to Diana again, this would also be the perfect opportunity to get Diana to agree to an interview for her research. Barbara had helped Diana take down the bad guys after all. She provided vital information. Plus, now that the bad guys were caught Diana would be free to do such an interview.
Before Barbara would even have a chance to speak to Diana one-on-one, she'd have to sit through this press conference. She didn't mind; she was as interested in this as anyone, she just didn't like having to wait. She wondered if Diana could see her all the way in the back. Barbara had worn the suit she looked the best in: a navy blue one with black tights and a skirt that showed off Barbara's hips.
"What was the Kobra Cult planning to do with the knife?" asked one reporter.
"It appeared as though they were attempting to use it to invoke the power of a god."
"Is an old knife really capable of such a feat?"
"Not to my knowledge," said Diana, "Thankfully, I recovered the knife before they had the opportunity. Next question."
"Princess Diana," said a reporter once Diana had pointed to her, "In a recent anthropological journal, it was asserted that the Amazons of Themyscira were a powerful tribe of war that valued power and conquest above all else. Can you speak to the accuracy of that theory?"
Barbara twitched. She knew exactly what this reporter was talking about. That was her article! It was the grand sum of all her years of study. Her entire career spent analyzing evidence pertaining to the Amazons and applying complex anthropological theories to that evidence. That was the research that had gotten her into A.R.G.U.S. in the first place. Who did this woman think she was, bringing it up like that? Of course it was accurate. She didn't even need to ask.
"That is a ridiculous question," chuckled Diana.
Barbara smiled.
"Of course it's inaccurate," she continued, "We train in the ways of combat, yes, but we also train in the arts of astronomy and theater and any number of other pursuits. Though powerful, we are a peaceful nation. Themyscira has never invaded another nation in its history, certainly not for conquest. The implication that we are some barbaric horde of pillagers is insulting."
Barbara caught herself on the wall as her legs gave way. She frantically looked about the room. Luckily, most wouldn't recognize her on sight. Several of her coworkers on the security detail did though, and she caught a few of them chuckling. Barbara clenched her teeth so hard she could feel it in her temples.
"Next question?" said Diana.
Barbara stormed out of the room. She couldn't believe it. Her whole life's work debunked just like that. It was the sum total of every ounce of effort Barbara had put into her career and studies and Diana brushed it off as an insult. Everything Barbara had worked toward was simply wrong.
She'd be laughed out of the field for this. Anthropologists focusing on the mystic were already treated with skepticism, but to be openly debunked and practically laughed at by a member of the very culture one was researching was career ending. All of her references had been earned by this work. All of her jobs had been focused on this exact theory. A.R.G.U.S. wouldn't have any use for her anymore; soon Barbara would be without a job and unable to get one.
The knife, thought Barbara.
That knife was hers. She had fought so hard and been through so much pain for that relic, she deserved it. She had earned it. It wasn't like she had much to lose by stealing it. A lifetime in prison would provide her the same amount of opportunities as life as a professional laughing stock. Barbara's mind was made up. Kicking off her heels, she ran all the way to the truck where they were loading up the knife.
When Barbara arrived at the truck there was one agent standing at the back near the hatch, smoking. There was presumably another one in the driver's seat. Barbara was willing to risk her odds against the two unsuspecting A.R.G.U.S. agents.
"Hey Barbara," smiled the smoking agent, who Barbara then recognized.
"Hi Mike," she said back, "Do you have an extra?"
Mike nodded and pulled the pack out of his pocket, handing it and his lighter over to Barbara. Barbara had never smoked before, so she was careful not to inhale when she lit the cigarette. The moment the tip was a bright orange, Barbara grabbed it and pressed it into Mike's face.
"Holy-!?" he screamed, grabbing at his face as the cigarette fell away.
Barbara used this moment to pull Mike's gun out of its holster and point it directly at him. He clambered for the firearm as she pulled it away, but quickly held his hands in the air once the barrel was pointing at him.
"Barbara…?" he said in disbelief.
"Oh please," said Barbara, rolling her eyes, "That couldn't have possibly compared to the pain I've had to endure today."
Mike flinched as Barbara fired the gun at the lock on the back of the truck. Not expecting the kickpack, Barbara flinched as well as the gun almost flew up into her face. She was happy to see she had hit her target though, and opened the back of the truck.
Barbara hopped up into the truck and shot the lock off the case inside, bracing herself for the kickback this time. Then she tossed the gun aside to use both hands to open the case and grab the bronze hunting knife inside. She felt a surge of relief and satisfaction when her hand finally touched the handle.
"Freeze!" shouted someone from behind.
The driver, cursed Barbara to herself.
In fact it was worse. Half a dozen agents had heard the gunshots and come running. Now they were all standing at the exit to the truck with their guns pointed directly at Barbara. Barbara slowly turned around to face them.
"She has a knife!" shouted one of the agents.
"Barbara," said Mike, "Put down the knife… Please…"
Barbara stared at the pack of men waiting to execute her at a moment's notice. Even if she surrendered, she'd spend her life in a cell. A.R.G.U.S. didn't let traitors go to just any prison. She would be in A.R.G.U.S. custody with every other supervillain and monstrosity they locked away. There was no hope now.
Barbara felt the hunting knife's weight in her hand. She thought back to what Diana had said at the press conference. The Kobra Cult thought they could use the knife to get powers from a god. What if the knife really could connect its wielder to Artemis?
Please, prayed Barbara, staring at the knife, Artemis, save me.
Barbara slid the knife down the palm of her hand and screamed in pain as her flesh was cut open, spilling blood all over the knife. The agents all panicked, taking steps back but not lowering their weapons.
"Did she just cut herself!?" asked one.
"What the-!?" shouted another
"Something's happening to her!.
"Oh God! Shoot! Kill it! Kill it!"
Every agent would survive that encounter, but they would all be left in critical conditions from wounds all over their bodies that looked as though they had come from a bear attack.
Barbara purred as she bounded across the rooftops, following Diana's scent.
The knife had transformed Barbara. She felt surges in her strength, agility, and perception. The world seemed so crisp and clear now, even without her glasses. She had discarded those along with her clothes. The clothing was only restricting her new form. Muscular, but lean like a cat, Barbara's body was now covered in a thick fur. She also had fangs, retractable claws, and a long tail.
She was even able to pick up Diana's scent from the faint memory she had of her smell. It would only be a matter of time before she tracked her down and exacted her revenge. She would end Diana the way she had ended her: complete and humiliating failure.
The two women eventually met atop a building in the middle of the city. Wonder Woman was dressed in her superhero uniform: a red armor chest piece, matching boots and gloves, blue leggings, and of course her golden tiara.
"I've been looking for you," said Wonder Woman.
"Likewise."
"Who are you?" demanded Wonder Woman, "Who are you and why did you attack those A.R.G.U.S. agents?!"
"Aw, Diana," frowned Barbara playfully, "Don't you recognize me?"
"...! Dr. Minerva!" gasped Wonder Woman. "Why!?"
"Because you ripped apart my life's work!"
"What?"
"That article the reporter asked about? That was mine!"
"...oh."
"And why couldn't you just agree to an interview!?" demanded Barbara, "If you had told me privately, I could have published a different article! One that didn't ruin my reputation!"
"Dr. Minerva…" said Wonder Woman carefully.
"Stop calling me that!"
"Barbara…"
"No!" hissed Barbara, "Not anymore! Now I'm Cheetah!"
Cheetah snarled as she bolted for Wonder Woman at blinding speed. Wonder Woman narrowly dodged the first two claw swipes, realizing to her horror that Cheetah was able to keep up with her speed and reaction time. The third swipe grazed Wonder Woman's thigh and tore the fabric of the leggings, slicing through the skin underneath.
"Your claws-!" grunted Wonder Woman, grasping her leg, "They can cut me… How?"
"You think you Amazons were the only ones the gods smiled on?" smirked Cheetah, "I prayed and Artemis heard my plight. She granted me this form as a hunter so that I might hunt down the woman who dismissed me, degraded me, and humiliated me!"
"Artemis?" realized Wonder Woman, "The knife!"
"Ding! Ding! Ding!" smiled Cheetah, "Winner! Now…"
Cheetah began to swipe at Wonder Woman again. Wonder Woman bent backwards to dodge the first few swipes, then lunged forward with a headbutt before Cheetah could continue. The tiara slammed into Cheetah's skull, causing her to stumble backwards. Wonder Woman took her opening and punched the cat across the face, sending her sprawling to the ground.
"Wait! Wait! Wait!" begged Cheetah, clutching her face in pain, "Stop! I give! I give!"
Wonder Woman paused. Cheetah hissed and used the opening to leap back up and get a clean swipe across Wonder Woman's face. Wonder Woman screamed out in pain, but didn't turn away or break her eye contact with Cheetah. Without flinching, Wonder Woman pushed past the pain and delivered a powerful uppercut to Cheetah's gut, thoroughly knocking the wind out of her and bringing her to her knees.
Cheetah was coughing for air when she experienced a painful and completely unfamiliar sensation. Wonder Woman had grabbed her tail and yanked upward while flying up off the ground. Soon Cheetah's entire weight was being held by her tail, straining its connection to Cheetah's butt. Since that connection was made up of bones and body tissue, this caused Cheetah a great deal of pain just above her butt. The next thing she knew, Wonder Woman was hovering between buildings and dangling Cheetah over the drop below.
"Please!" begged Cheetah, "Stop! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"Deception and pleading," said Wonder Woman with disgust, "You shame the goddess who granted you those powers."
Cheetah meekly whimpered in pain.
Wonder Woman turned Cheetah over to A.R.G.U.S., who promptly had her moved to a containment facility with other superhumans.
Barbara Minerva had wanted her legacy to be the discovery of her idolized nation of conquering warriors. Then she feared she would be remembered as the anthropologist whose theories were so wrong she'd be laughed out of the field. Instead, she would be remembered as one of many inept criminals who met a humiliating defeat at the hands of Wonder Woman.