DC/Fate: Age of Heroes

The sun had begun its slow descent, turning the sky a molten gold. Heat clung to the stone walls and dusty roads of the ancient city as I wandered further from the agora, my sandals crunching softly over gravel.

I didn't exactly have a plan beyond "don't get killed by gods today," and after the strange, tense conversation with the old men, my mind needed air—space to think.

The alleyways grew narrower the farther I went. Less marble, more mud-brick. Fewer statues, more shrubs growing between cracked stones. Eventually, the streets gave way to a field of olive trees, rustling gently in the afternoon breeze.

And then I heard it, sounds of flowing water.

A faint, natural burble somewhere ahead. I followed the sound, ducking beneath low branches and climbing over a collapsed column until I found it.

A natural spring.

It flowed out from the base of a rocky outcrop, crystal-clear, feeding a small pool fringed with moss and smooth stones.

I knelt beside it and touched the water—it was clean. Sacred, maybe. But I'd already offended enough gods for the day. If they wanted to punish me for taking a bath, they'd have to queue behind a very long list of other grievances.

I stripped off my dust-covered clothes and stepped in. The water embraced me like silk, washing away the sweat, the tension, the heat. For a while, I just floated, letting the stillness hold me.

My body had changed more than I realized since assimilating the Heroic Spirits. Muscles I never trained felt stronger. My skin had a healthy glow.

Even the strands of blonde hair that had begun to streak my black hair shimmered under the sunlight. The changes weren't just spiritual—they were physical. Tangible.

Still, I had to leave soon. I didn't want to spend the night in this city if a god decided to come down here to smite me . It wasn't fear for myself that pushed the thought, it was for the people.

The old men by the fountain. The vendors. The children in the streets. I had no intention of bringing divine wrath down on innocents.

I pushed myself out of the spring, water cascading down my torso.

And that's when I saw her.

A woman stood less than ten feet away, frozen like a statue. She was tall, proud, with broad shoulders and a warrior's posture. Golden-blonde hair framed a face that was equal parts fierce and beautiful. Her piercing blue eyes were locked on me, wide in surprise. Her arms, toned and strong, twitched as if unsure whether to reach for a weapon or cover her eyes.

I blinked.

She didn't.

"...Could you please turn around?" I asked, voice dry. "It's not like this is the first time you've seen a man naked, so there's really nothing to stare at."

Her mouth opened, then closed. She blinked hard, cheeks coloring slightly. "My apologies, mortal. I was just—"

Then her face twisted with realization, and her stance shifted.

"Wait. No! I was supposed to monitor you and escape if I was found out."

I sighed, pulling on my pants as she fell into a ready stance, fists clenched. "Which one sent you? Are you one of the Olympians?"

She lifted her chin. "My name is Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons. I am here by the order of the great goddess Aphrodite."

My eyebrows rose.

"Huh. Day one of my Greek adventure and I've already attracted the thot. Should I be surprised or amazed?"

Hippolyta frowned. "What is a… thot?"

I laughed, unable to help myself. "My bad. Wrong era. Don't worry about it."

Her expression darkened with confusion and suspicion. She shifted slightly, as though preparing to vanish into the trees.

"Anyway," I said casually, slipping my shirt on, "you should answer some questions before you disappear."

Her posture tensed. I could feel the caution pouring off her.

She wasn't just wary—she was terrified. Not of me, maybe, but of what this whole situation meant. I could see it in her eyes. She didn't understand what I was, and that scared her.

And something told me Aphrodite hadn't given her a full explanation, either.

She took a step back, and then another. "I have nothing to say to a man."

"Even if that man isn't normal?"

She moved to run, but I was faster. One step, then two, and I was beside her. My hand gently closed around her shoulder—not rough, but firm.

"I don't have anything against you," I said calmly. "But I need answers. I'll let you go. Sound good?"

Her body tensed. She tried to twist free, but she might as well have tried to move a mountain. My strength, even without actively channeling any Heroic Spirit, was far beyond human now. The merger had changed me—infused me with their passive abilities.

Even Gilgamesh's absurd ego was starting to infect my attitude, apparently. Atleast I didn't call her mongrel.

She struggled, jaw clenched. I admired her resilience—most people would've screamed or begged. She fought.

With a sigh, I reached for the glowing rope tied at her hip. She gasped, too late to stop me, as I unfastened it and wrapped it around her arms.

"What is this? Are you Cosplaying as Wonder Woman or something?"

The rope shimmered gold, its aura pulsing faintly. Hippolyta's eyes widened as her mouth moved involuntarily.

"I don't know anything about what you asked," she growled, cheeks flushing in frustration.

I tilted my head, intrigued. "Magic rope that compels the truth, huh? That's… honestly kind of awesome. But it's the real deal, huh?"

The appearance od this magic rope began to tug gently, but almost spiritually, pointing me in a direction of thought I didn't want to think about. "No way I'm in that Universe." I chuckled nervously.

Deciding I'd had enough fun in the woods, I reached into my Gate and pulled forth Vimana—the golden aerial chariot of kings. It shimmered into existence with a burst of divine light, its golden hull reflecting the startled expression on Hippolyta's face.

She didn't even have time to react before I hoisted her over my shoulder like a sack of grain.

"What—!?" she barked.

"Let's have a proper chat somewhere else," I said, smacking her rear when she squirmed. "And maybe somewhere scenic."

She gritted her teeth, cheeks burning. But she didn't protest further.

In her mind, the storm was still brewing.

Why don't I hate this man? she thought bitterly. Why does he not look at me with the same eyes other men did?

She remembered Heracles. The betrayal. The chains. The tears of her sisters.

And yet, here he was—absurd, annoying, arrogant. But not cruel. Not once had he looked at her with lust. Not even when he had every chance to.

That terrified her more than anything.

As Vimana rose into the sky, leaving the ancient city behind, Hippolyta looked around in wide-eyed awe. The clouds parted as the airship soared.

"Who… who really is this man?" she whispered to herself.

And I? I just smiled, piloting the ship with one hand while flipping the golden rope in the other.

"Time for some answers, miss Amazon."

****

Above the clouds, beneath a silver-brushed sky, Vimana soared like a silent god among gods. Its golden hull shimmered against the pale moonlight, a streak of forgotten legend gliding through the stars. Wind whispered around the craft, but inside its open deck, things were quieter—more tense.

Edward leaned back on a floating cushion of summoned velvet, legs crossed casually, watching the Amazon seated across from him. Hippolyta sat straight-backed and stern, arms crossed tightly beneath her chest, face rigid with defiance, yet unable to conceal the thoughts warring behind her sharp blue eyes.

Edward cocked his head and reached out, gently poking her cheek with a finger. "Don't frown like that," he said with a smirk, "you'll get wrinkles and won't be pretty anymore."

Hippolyta's brow twitched. She turned her head away with the dignity of a lioness tolerating a cub. "I don't care for your opinions on my appearance, mortal."

He chuckled softly and leaned forward. With surprising tenderness, he cupped her chin and turned her face toward his. "Tell me about your people. The real story. Not what the poets sing to stroke Zeus's ego."

Her jaw clenched, but then she winced. The golden rope—her own lasso—still looped faintly around her wrists, and its magic compelled truth. A sharp sigh escaped her lips.

"Very well," she said with quiet resignation. "But you'll get more than you bargained for."

Edward offered a two-fingered salute and leaned back again. "Good. I like my stories complex. If only there was popcorn."

Hippolyta stared at him a moment longer, searching his face for mockery, for cruelty. But he just looked curious. And—gods help her—calm. Like he already knew where this story was headed.

So she began.

"800 years ago, the world was young and savage. Men ruled by the spear and fire, and women—" she paused, bitterness flashing behind her eyes, "—were often treated as spoils of war."

Edward said nothing, letting her continue.

"Aphrodite, Demeter, Hestia, Hera, Athena, and Artemis—they came together. They wanted to change the world's balance, to uplift the voices of women, to build a nation that honored wisdom and strength without conquest."

"And the men didn't like that, I assume?" Edward said dryly.

Hippolyta gave a short, humorless laugh. "They didn't even listen. Zeus dismissed them. Poseidon scoffed. Ares demanded proof of strength, as always."

Edward rolled his eyes. "Of course he did."

"So the six goddesses went to the Underworld," she went on, "to the Cavern of Souls. There, the spirits of women who had suffered unjust deaths—murdered, defiled, betrayed—were waiting."

His brows raised slightly.

"They pulled those souls from their limbo, and with divine clay molded from the bed of a sacred lake, they gave them new life. Stronger. Wiser. Immortal, yet bound to the Earth. I was the first to rise."

Edward's expression shifted slightly—no longer amused, but intrigued. "So you're... not just a demigod. You're literally a resurrected soul in a divine vessel."

"Yes," Hippolyta said softly. "We all are. Thousands of us. And we were given Themyscira, a city-state to spread the teachings of the goddesses—justice, balance, peace."

"And then came Hercules," Edward murmured.

She nodded slowly, eyes narrowing. "Ares encouraged it. Zeus turned a blind eye. Heracles and his men stormed our lands under the guise of diplomacy, and when we lowered our guard, they chained us. Enslaved us. Used us."

Edward's hands slowly curled into fists. "And what did your loving goddesses do?"

"They intervened... eventually. Hera freed us. But the damage was done. Our home desecrated. Many sisters lost."

Edward didn't speak for a while, letting the silence hang. The soft hum of Vimana's engines filled the air like a distant heartbeat.

"So what then?" he asked finally.

"Some left," Hippolyta said, her voice quieter now. "My sister Antiope led them to Egypt, where they built a new life—Bana-Mighdall.

But I stayed with the goddesses. I owed them that much, I thought. We were relocated to a hidden island, beyond mortal reach. There, we took up a new duty: to guard the Earth from a buried evil the gods feared."

Edward nodded, digesting the weight of it. Then, with a soft scoff, he muttered, "So you pledged yourselves to the same bastards who got you enslaved in the first place."

Hippolyta's head snapped up. Her fists clenched. "We were rescued—!"

"Rescued late," Edward shot back. "You think Heracles did all that without any divine backup? These gods play both sides for entertainment. They let it happen. Maybe even nudged it."

Her face paled. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I've been asking around about them," Edward said dryly. "And a pattern's forming. These so-called gods feed on worship, yet have no love for mortals. They hoard power, but demand songs and shrines to justify their existence."

Hippolyta's voice was barely a whisper. "Then why did you come here?"

"To see if it was all true," Edward replied with a shrug. "To see if maybe some of them were worth saving."

He leaned back, gaze hardening. "So far, it's not looking good."

She stared at him in silence, uncertain whether she felt anger... or something else.

Then he said it.

"Now I don't regret killing Poseidon."

Her entire body froze.

"You… what?"

Edward smiled faintly, almost sheepishly. "Oh yeah. I Turned the Sea God into sashimi. he's probably eaten by some sharks now"

"You... killed Poseidon?" Her voice trembled—less with fear, more with disbelief.

"Yep," Edward said, standing and stretching his arms behind his head. "He came at me first. Tried to stab me. Didn't work out for him."

Hippolyta's entire worldview tilted.

Poseidon. The Earth-Shaker. Brother of Zeus. One of the three pillars of Olympus.

Dead?

By this man?

She couldn't speak. Her mind reeled. This wasn't some boast by a deluded wanderer. No, she could feel it. The way the lasso vibrated when he spoke. He wasn't lying.

Edward watched her reaction with detached interest, arms folded. "So now that the news is out, what do you think? Am I evil? Dangerous? Or just inconvenient?"

Hippolyta swallowed. "You're... terrifying."

He looked almost offended. "I'm somewhat unhinged but charming."

She looked at him then. Really looked. The way he carried himself—not like a braggart or a conqueror, but someone burdened. Wounded. Even when he smirked, there was a heaviness behind his eyes.

"Why did you kill him?" she asked, her voice softer.

"He left me no choice," Edward replied with a stern jaw. "He killed my friend who died protecting me. I had to avenge him."

Silence again.

Then, unexpectedly, Hippolyta looked away and muttered, "You didn't look at me lustfully after capturing me or tried to take advantage. Most men would have."

Edward blinked. "Well, I don't usually drool over people trying to escape and stab me. If it was anybody else, they might call you some strange things, even ask you to step on them or some shit. " he chuckled remembering an old meme . " Death by Snu Snu."

Hippolyta looked confused, " What are these weird words you speak of?"

Edward sighed and patted her head, " Don't worry your pretty little head over it. Just some inside joke. Now, back to story time."

That got a faint huff of amusement from her. Just barely.

The wind shifted as Vimana crested another layer of cloud, moonlight washing them in silver again.

Hippolyta's mind still spun with disbelief, fear, and something she hated to admit, curiosity and interest.

Who was this man? This so called god-slayer who quoted philosophy like a drunk and laughed like a child?

And why did part of her… not hate him?

She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing.

What kind of mess did Aphrodite got her into?

****

The moonlight spilled across the deck of Vimana, casting silver shadows on the intricate carvings of its surface. The hum of the ship's ancient engine, powered by some forgotten cosmic mechanism, was soft and steady beneath their feet as it glided effortlessly through the clouds.

Edward leaned against the polished railing, arms folded, his expression unreadable. The wind tousled his hair, flicking golden strands into his eyes—a subtle remnant of his assimilation with the Heroic Spirits. Across from him, Hippolyta sat stiffly on the edge of a glowing panel, her spine straight, arms crossed over her armored chest. She did her best to look indifferent, though the flicker of confusion still lingered behind her sharp blue eyes.

They had both been quiet for a while. The weight of Edward's casual revelation—"Oh yeah, I killed Poseidon"—still hung in the air like thick fog. Finally, Edward spoke again, voice low but curious.

"I'm curious about something you said earlier," he said, not looking at her. "You mentioned something about guarding a buried evil beneath your island. That didn't sound like mythology fluff."

Hippolyta stiffened. The golden lasso around her waist faintly shimmered as if responding to the question. Her mouth opened, and the truth poured out—calm, steady, and unfiltered.

"There was a war," she began, her voice quieter than before. "Around five hundred years ago, though time is strange around Themyscira. A great evil descended from the stars. He came not for conquest, but for annihilation—he sought to unmake the world, turn all life into his hollow, mindless slaves."

Edward turned his gaze slowly toward her. Her eyes no longer burned with suspicion, only memory.

"He was stronger than any god. Even Zeus feared him. So the world's defenders rallied. Mortals, Atlanteans, my Amazons… even visitors from distant worlds wearing emerald light—they came together and fought under one banner."

Edward blinked. "Green armor, huh. And what happened?"

"He was repelled. Barely. But before leaving, he left behind three artifacts—Mother Boxes, we called them. Devices that could terraform worlds and open gateways across the stars. If united, they could call him back, even after death."

Her voice darkened. "So we divided them. One entrusted to mankind. One sunk deep beneath the ocean with the Atlanteans. And the last—my sisters and I took it to Themyscira, building our citadel around it. We have guarded it for centuries."

Edward raised a hand halfway, the dawning horror rising in his voice. "Wait, wait, wait. That guy, the one who came to destroy Earth… did his name happen to rhyme with, I don't know, side?"

Hippolyta frowned. "His name was Darkseid."

Edward's whole body jerked. "Son of a bitch!"

He spun on his heel, pacing across the deck. His thoughts ran wild, and he rubbed his face furiously as the realization hit like a train.

"I got isekai'd into the Nasuverse, I thought, cool, I'll get some noble phantasms, fight a few corrupted gods. Maybe throw hands with Heracles or Gilgamesh. But nooo—turns out I'm in DC! Freaking DC! Where guys like Superman sneeze galaxies into black holes and Darkseid blinks and entire timelines die!"

Hippolyta tilted her head, watching him with an expression that mixed confusion, amusement, and a spark of concern. "You speak madness. What is this… 'DC' you speak of?"

Edward didn't respond. He was too busy recalibrating his entire understanding of the world he was in. Gods who fed off worship? Check. Heroic spirits? Check. Amazon warriors, ancient alien invasions, and now the looming shadow of Darkseid?

It was enough to give anyone an existential crisis.

Behind him, Hippolyta's lips curled into a faint smile. For the first time, she saw something genuinely human in the cocky stranger. Not arrogance. Not power. Just the honest bewilderment of a man who suddenly realized the universe was a lot bigger—and scarier—than he thought.

"Is the fearless god-slayer afraid?" she teased softly, unable to resist.

Edward stopped. He turned toward her slowly, eyes narrowed, stepping forward until their faces were just inches apart. Hippolyta blinked, surprised by the sudden proximity—and a bit flustered.

He grabbed her shoulders firmly. His voice dropped, serious. "Do you… by any chance, have a daughter named Diana?"

Hippolyta's brows furrowed. "Yes. But how do you—?"

Edward cut her off with another question, eyes narrowing further. "Did you sleep with Zeus to have her?"

Hippolyta's face went crimson. "What?! What in Gaia's name—no! Of course not! Zeus merely… breathed life into a clay figure I sculpted from my own soul. That's all. I didn't sleep with that lecher!"

The golden lasso shimmered again, affirming her words. She gasped, realizing what she'd confessed. "Damn you," she muttered, twisting slightly in shame and anger. "Let me go. You've had your questions. That was the deal."

Edward released her arms with a shrug. "Alright. I'm not a liar. You've been helpful, surprisingly."

She stumbled slightly as he stepped back. The wind tugged at her hair as the Vimana hovered steadily above the clouds. Hippolyta looked at him with genuine surprise. "You're letting me go? Just like that?"

Edward waved a hand lazily. "What, do you want me to keep you?"

She blinked. "No. I just… I didn't expect that."

He gave a tired smile, then looked up at the pale moon, his voice softer. "Go home. Take care of your daughter. And don't leave the island for the next few months. Trust me on that."

Hippolyta frowned. "Why?"

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "I need time to think. Whatever's happening here… it's not just some divine pissing contest anymore. This is quite a plot twist life has thrown in my face."

She hesitated, eyes lingering on him. A strange knot twisted in her chest—an emotion she couldn't name. Was it concern? Was it respect? She wasn't sure.

"If you could drop me near any island," she said at last. "I can return on my own."

Edward nodded. "Done."

The Vimana shifted course slightly, the stars spinning around them. Hippolyta stood beside him silently, her silhouette tall and regal beneath the moonlight. She was genuinely curious as what the man in front of her would do next.