Zeus stood on the edge of a precipice, his bearded face lit from below by a shaft of golden brilliance. The light source at his bare feet was well shaft, a fount carved from the pure pale marble of Mount Olympus, a shaft sunk through the heart of the mountain itself. Zeus's eyes were downcast; staring into the gild maelstrom; waters frothing far below, contained by what appeared to be an endless cylinder of glass-smooth rock. Golden liquid hot and vital surged upwards in agitated sprays of luminescent droplets, splashing deep yellow on the white curved wall.
Around about him was a vast cavern whose borders were vague dark shadows; a chamber hidden directly beneath the King of the gods own throne room. Channels were cut in the rock floor, where once golden Ichor over flowed from the well's rim. Those times were long past.
His daughter Athena approached her King and Father with appropriate caution and reverence. Her Owl ever vigilant sat perched upon her shoulder, and a hooded eagle rode on her outstretched arm, savage talons gripping her gilded bracer. A great she-lion walked beside her. Her armour now shone resplendent, reflecting the golden light from the tumultuous well, as fabric as fine as mist flowed from her, a dress, a cape, and a standard, as the goddess of Wisdom, Strategy and War, stepped forward.
To Athena's relief her Father remained his savage self. She had good reason to fear finding a change had come over him, for now all Olympus had learned of the mortal worlds doings. The slight against her Father.
Zeus stood naked save for his feather cape. Barbarous, fully primal and regal. For Zeus there was no standard to attain, nor maintain; Olympus was his. He was Olympus, but for her and the other immortals it was another life entirely.
She approached him in all her splendour, a choice wisdom made. It paid to demonstrate strength and stature at the seat of the gods. She had come here into the belly of the mountain, dressed to impress. To remind her father of who she was to him, because Zeus could still forget himself; especially here before the font of raw power that was the Ichor Well. Self-serving madness came easy to the ancient and powerful immortals of Olympus. For a god to become someone or something else was to enjoy something very precious and rare; change.
When you live forever the novel experience after millennia after millennia of the same is prize without price.
Change was also a transformative experience in a literal sense. The gods outward material appearance was derived entirely from inward self-awareness, as immortals they could change their flesh as a mortal might a garment, by simply changing their mind.
Athena reflected how her father had appeared in a myriad of forms to as many lovers, and even more enemies. When Zeus lost himself in a new incarnation there were no barriers moral or intellectual, just raw power emotion and lust for that precious prize; novelty.
Athena maybe be his daughter, but family, ties of blood meant nothing should change come upon a bored god-King, his base desires and passions rose unchecked given a new and terrible form.
Whatever had brought her father back to this primitive place, to the Ichor Well, had not changed him, not yet at least, there was a chance that she might yet intervene, where no other god could.
"There is something familiar about you today Father." She told him.
Zeus turned to her, his eyes bright with their own golden light, as within them terrible angry storms raged, lit by flashes of lightning within his dark orbs.
"Not since Prometheus has mankind reached so high, the insult added upon insult; the hubris." Zeus spat.
"The news echoes around the halls of Olympus." She replied, keeping her voice measured and calm.
"I hear them muttering." Her father growled, his eyes sparked, and Athena felt the energies spill over into the mortal realms, she heard a hundred thousand thunder storms erupt, striking awe into many, and confusion into the weather models of meteorologists.
"No doubt the trickster tattler thief has parroted the tale more than once." Zeus said.
"He has a reputation to maintain, and this tale has kept attention away from your dalliance in Themyscira." She told him.
Zeus smiled at her implied rebuke. Hermes served her father even when appearing to taunt his King with his messages of mortal hubris.
"The change came upon me, and she is very beautiful, this Amazon Queen." Her Father replied. The lightning bolt faded back into his right hand only to flicker back brightly as he spoke. "The latter day emperor enraged me; she saved them, she enraptured me." Zeus confessed. For a moment his rage dimmed, before it returned.
"But now these mortals have gone further – they has done this!" Mist swirled around Zeus's now outstretched left hand. An image formed in the swirling tendrils. A naked man bursting from a great glass vessel, snapping snaking lines of plastic conduit that hung from his flesh, attached to the interface above him. Around about him a gelatinous liquid spilled from the broken vessel onto the ground. Lights flashed around the room, colour in the darkness, as people in white coats scattered and screamed. Strange mechanisms sparked around them all. From the man's hands blood welled as metal blades burst through his flesh, six great curved scimitar claws, edged with a new adamantium alloy the fusion of magic, earthly and extra-terrestrial science.
"The corrupted legacy of Amalthea!" He father said his voice cold and terrible. "New greater insult still is added to the former insult." Zeus roared, shaking his lion's mane of hair. His cloak billowed, there was a brilliance now coming from the body of her Father, his blood, the ichor in his veins glowed illuminating him from the inside.
Beneath him the Well of golden Ichor level dropped as the King of the gods drew power into himself.
"This mortal magi looks like you Father," Athena said pointing into the image contained by the mist. She picked out the face of the one man in the room who showed no fear, rather his expression was on of unbridled glee. His red beard and hair were streaked with grey, his face lined with age, but his body was strong with vigour. "Are you sure there is not more to this than you remember?"
Zeus snapped around, his bright eyes stared at her, his fingers clenched into a fist and electricity sparked around it as bolts of lightning took form in his right hand once more, and as his rage flowed into them, the eerie internal glow of ichor filled veins dimmed.
Athena's gambit had worked. She had stalled his rage induced change, for now at least. She had made him think of his children, those who lived long and strong but still died in the mortal realms.
"Time passes swiftly below." Zeus stated. "The Ichor Well is far from full daughter, it has not overflowed since the time of Alexander. Generations of mortals come and go so quickly, children begat children, no doubt the diluted legacy of my seed lives on in them." Her father paused, his eyes looked elsewhere.
Athena knew where, she too saw the veiled island. When her father loved, he loved deeply, but Kings do not marry for love but necessity.
"It seems only yesterday I lay in paradise," Zeus said his voice soft with affection, "but the child is already walking, talking, soon she will begin her marital training."
"Her conception is a glorious accident." Athena replied. "A gift of the Fates."
"Hera would not agree with you. The well was emptied of some of its gold that day, my rage, my passion, drew from its depths." Zeus shook his head. There was regret in his expression, his huge shoulders slumped forward towards the well. "Too little mortal faith trickles into the font of our power in these latter days, nowhere near enough to replenish our life's blood."
"Hera would not agree, if she knew," Athena replied, "but that trickster tattler thief has kept the corridors of Olympus interest fixed on the fate of blessed Amalthea's remains, on mortal hubris, so much so that the changes on Themyscira have gone unnoticed."
Zeus chuckled, and turned away from the well to face her.
"That may help my darling Hippolyta escape my Queen's ire, but daughter it does not change our reality. Olympus days can now be numbered," Zeus gestured to the font of golden Ichor, "because someday this well will be emptied and there will no ambrosia for our tables; and then Olympus will be no more."
"We are immortals facing mortality." Athena agreed. "All the more reason to tread carefully – to enjoy our revenge cold."
"If I let this mortal's hubris upon hubris go unchallenged, then the few wise magi left who know of Olympus will say Zeus is truly dead. Would you have me hold back and hasten the day when that is true?"
"No father, but drawing on the Ichor Well for your hot angry vengeance now will only deplete the golden liquor sooner."
"Hera is a creature of vengeance." Zeus answered. "Her council is different; she would cut loose Ares, whose strength alone grows with mortals' one true constant – their love of bloodshed. Why is it you daughter, always so wise, caution me to hold my hand?"
"Because I would not see my Father usurped by Ares growing power."
Zeus walked across to be close to her, a Savage King again, holding himself with regal calm. Athena smiled, she had won. With her left hand she stroked the she-lion at her side.
"You and your cabal." Zeus said. "I see you gathered around the hearth of my sister Hestia, with Demeter, Aphrodite, and Artemis. You have made a pact with the trickster tattler thief?"
"We have blessed your daughter oh my King." Athena replied. "Each one of us, has blessed her especially, above and beyond her Amazonian heritage."
"And what do you require of me."
"Patience. Spurn Ares' blood lust, soothe Hera, and wait for the right time. For the Ichor's sake."
"And when that right time comes?" Zeus asked her.
"Then we deal with this mortal affront, we strike down this emperor for his hubris."
"How shall we do this daughter?"
"We shall call my little sister to arms."
Zeus laughed. "You would send an Amazon girl child to do my work?"
"The world changes, besides a girl-child with the power of Olympus will shame them all; all who know the truth of Olympus, but spurn us none the less."
Zeus said nothing, his brow furrowed. His face a picture of thought.
"Then our Ichor must flow." Athena told her father. "The days when we were worshipped have gone daddy." Athena said. "But we still embody, represent ideas, hopes and dreams for mortals. Imagine if Olympus was represented in the modern world by a modern hero? Would not belief in our purpose and existence fill this well once more with vital energy of adoration, of admiration?"
Her Father said nothing for a long moment and then Zeus nodded.
"We would cease to by a story told to children." Zeus answered. "Mortals would know gods once walked the Earth, and yes the golden Ichor would flow, a different hue perhaps, but I can believe the Ambrosia will taste well enough." Zeus laughed. It was a warm welcome sound, thunderous, like a storm breaking the unbearable heat on a too dry summer's day.
"More over daughter I can see the Amazon child." Zeus told her. "The Fates wish it; their voice sings to me. I can see her, and oh how the mortals Wonder, a Woman, a hero for this modern age." Zeus smiled at Athena saying. "Yes child, when the time is right the Ichor will flow, and Olympus will be avenged in the cold light of day."