Latest Update: March 7, 2023
Summary: Diana: "People said the Age of Heroes would never come again." Bruce: "It has to. We don't have any more time!" After a pause and visible reluctance, Diana finally said, "I may know of two more warriors." Trapped on another world, and away from the ocean, Percy and Annabeth are retired. But then aliens invade...
Link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/14030547/1/The-Second-Age-of-Heroes
Word count:52k
Chapters:5
Chapter 1: Two More Heroes
-X\/X\/X-
To be forewarned is to be forearmed.
Unfortunately Earth possessed only the barest hint of what was to come, and even then only a small handful of individuals held that dark knowledge.
Despite this, they prepared as best as they could.
Within an underground hanger in Gotham City, a beautiful woman made her through the grim and dark space, which well suited its master. She found him hard at work within what appeared to be a bulky transport plane of some sort, if not a model she was familiar with. An oddity for sure when that list was all of them.
When she came up from beneath him, he called down even as he continued to turn a wrench for something leaking. "You know, I paid millions for this building's security."
"You got your money's worth. Took me almost a minute to disable it."
In fairness, she had been learning how to move unseen and wherever she needed to go within Man's World ever since World War I. Nor had those designers anticipated having to stop a literal goddess.
Princess Diana, daughter of Queen Hippolyta of the Amazons, and Zeus, the now-dead King of the gods of Ancient Greece.
Finishing what he was doing, the middle-aged, handsome man turned around to smile down at her. "Hi there," said Bruce Wayne. Like this, it was impossible to think that this playful seeming billionaire was really the infamous vigilante, the Dark Knight of Gotham, the legendary Batman.
"A new toy," she smiled back.
"Prototype troop carrier."
With a sigh, she crossed her arms as melancholy got to her. "I once knew a man who would have loved to fly it," she reminisced, thinking of Steve Trevor.
"The best minds at Wayne Aerospace couldn't make it fly."
"But you can?" she asked with renewed interest.
"I have no choice. I need more range and I need more cargo. I suspect there's an attack coming."
"Not coming Bruce," she grimly corrected him. "It's already here."
"Oh, wow, that's not good. We're not exactly ready, are we?"
Blinking, she turned to see a man in his mid-twenties hurrying over. Although she knew he was capable of running far faster than that. Absurd speeds to rival or maybe even surpass her half-brother Hermes before he was murdered; not that she'd ever been blessed enough to witness that.
"Barry Allen," she smiled. "It's good to meet you in person."
"Oh my goddess. I mean, goodness, uhm, yeah," he managed to get out as he really took her in, managing somehow not to fumble what he was carrying.
Briskly she came to meet him, and relieved him of some of the load in his arms, including a bunch of sandwiches for his large appetite as his body metabolised foods at obscene speeds which matched those at which he ran.
"Same here," he smiled, shaking the hand she offered him. "I mean, video calls are good and all, but awesome to meet you like this." Originally she had intended to first meet him face-to-face, only for her to have to head to Athens as fast as possible, so she had decided to handle their initial introduction virtually. It cheapened the process, yet she felt it was more important to ensure he knew he was welcomed to the team. At least this time he was not saying, "Hi Barry, I'm Diana," before realizing his mistake.
"Have you been helping Bruce out with his craft?" she asked, knowing the man was a genius himself.
"Well, working on it. Aircrafts aren't something I'm familiar with, but I'm getting the hang of it while making sure he has the tools he needs."
"He's smart, and will be able to in short order," praised Bruce, making the younger man stammer. "Now, what's this about an attack?" Because as Barry had said, they were not yet ready. Their team consisted of three people, and the only other possible recruit they had was a cyborg.
Approaching the speedster and asking him to join had gone smoothly, and it was a relief to have finally found someone. Bruce had nearly had to make a trek to the middle of nowhere in Iceland if not for Alfred disproving a rumour at the last minute. So instead he got to go to Central City, and pick up Barry with hardly any effort before the guy was about to go to a job interview.
Honestly, he had hardly needed his sales pitch, as Barry was in just if it meant he could meet friends. Which . . . Bruce could respect. Living a double-life with secrets was difficult, and the younger man had not had someone like Alfred to confide in.
"I received a warning from my people. A signal fire lit at the Shrine of the Amazons within Athens. It lead me to an ancient part of our history."
So she told them what she had learned. Of an ancient alliance some five thousand years ago against alien invaders from another universe. How their leader discovered an even greater power on Earth, and sought to cover the planet in fire and reform it into a copy of his homeworld, twisting the people who lived there into his mindless servants. How he had three crucial artifacts, the Mother Boxes, which would form The 'Unity' to do so. Only they did not go unopposed.
"But before The Unity could synchronize, the defenders of Earth attacked and fought as one. Amazons alongside Atlanteans. Zeus and his son Ares alongside the guardians from the sky. A golden Age of Heroes fighting together to defend life on Earth."
And they had.
While at a terrible price, unlike any people before them, they had succeeded in driving off Darkseid and his armies. Moreover, the Mother Boxes were abandoned in the enemy's retreat, and fell 'asleep.' Unfortunately they were indestructible, and posed a threat that they would awaken to call out to the planet Apokolips, and lead to Darkseid's return to conquer the only world he had ever lost to.
Queen Hippolyta of the Amazons, King Atlan of the Atlanteans, and the chosen leader of the various armies of regular Humanity, had each been entrusted with one Mother Box each to safeguard.
"Something woke the Box my people guard. It called out to the dark place, to one of Darkseid's conquerors. The enemy is here."
"Are your people alright?" asked Barry.
"I don't know," Diana answered, a part of her regretting his kind heart. Reminders of how she could never return home would always be bitter. "Only that they sent me the warning. But my mother and sisters are strong, I have faith they weathered this enemy as they have many others."
He winced and looked away as he got her meaning. "Well, that means they drove him off at least, right?"
"Yes," she said with a faint smile.
"If this conqueror's here, where is he?" asked Bruce.
"He'll be searching for the other two Boxes," she conceded. She doubted her mother and the others could have stopped the invader from taking the Amazons' Box. Certainly the intent of the fire was not to alert the world that a merely unsuccessful attempt had been made. "Hiding until he has all three. Until he is ready."
"Because otherwise we'd know where he is if he was making a big, dramatic appearance like Darkseid did," realized Barry.
"Then we have to be ready," said Bruce intently. "You, me, the others."
Despite the severity of the situation she smiled. "They said the Age of Heroes would never come again."
"No, it will," Bruce confidently promised. "It has to." He cocked his head. "There's something else you're not telling me."
At that, Diana's perfect features were marred with a grimace. After a pause and visible reluctance, she finally said, "I may know of two more warriors."
What.
"Uhm," said Barry in surprise, "why didn't you say so earlier?"
Not even pretending to hide his anger, Bruce bit out, "People not in Luthor or Waller's files? People we could've been approaching this entire time!?"
Hands raised in a possibly futile attempt to placate him, she let some of her own frustration show. "It's complicated with those two. They're retired, and have earned it honourably. If it wasn't for the threat of Darkseid himself, I would let them remain so."
"How did they earn it? Kill some dark god or something?" said Barry.
However Diana's face was stone. "I shouldn't tell you. If I did," she went on, cutting off any inquiries, "they would take it as an invasion of privacy. But these heroes have indeed achieved great things, and paid a heavy price for it. If anything, I'm in awe of their accomplishments."
On the face of it, that was high praise indeed to come from Diana. However, Bruce also wondered if this was the same sort of excuse which had her disappear from the world for the better part of a century. "We've all paid a price," he said neutrally.
To his continued surprise, her face softened sadly. "Yes, we have. Except we had more of a choice in the matter."
Well, that was ominous.
Taking a deep breath, she continued, "I also feared the threat of what would happen if we pressured them without what they consider due cause. They're dangerous, and as I said, they retired for a reason."
"You're afraid of them," he accused.
"They are no threat if you respect their boundaries."
Barry's eyes bugged out. "Wait, so they could take you in a fight?"
Instead of answering, she said to Bruce, "It'll have to be you. If I'm the one to approach them, they'll take it as an order, and it won't end well. Or if they think I told you too much."
Turning to Barry, she said with a gentle smile, "And I'm not sure you're ready for them yourself."
"Oh sure, I get it, but can't you give us more than ominous warnings?"
In answer, the Amazon mimed zipping her mouth shut, and turning a key.
She was definitely nervous though. Not 'afraid,' yet wary of what they could do. Which was as worrisome as it was absolutely infuriating for Bruce given all the time he had wasted looking for others to join this team.
"Alright," he said with a shallow nod. "What're their names?"
With a hint of a smile she unlocked and unzipped her mouth.
"Annabeth Jackson-Chase, and her husband, Percy Chase-Jackson."
-X/\X/\X-
Given how they were working under a deadline, Bruce immediately departed. In the meantime, Diana would continue her own investigations, while Barry would do what he could to help with their new aircraft.
Of course, Bruce was not going in blind beyond names and an address. By the time his private plane was taking off from the airport, the man he trusted above everyone else had already done his research, hacking and searching through various online sources.
"Well, Alfred," he said to the tablet before him, "what've you got for me?"
"At first glance, fairly ordinary. It's not until you start digging around that they start to look interesting," his butler reported over the screen.
"Percy Chase-Jackson was an oceanographer working primarily in the Atlantic Ocean, mostly around New York, where they lived. Despite his lack of a doctorate, his name features prominently in several related papers since he started working. He also was publicly awarded for saving a family from a shark. Then a few years ago he suddenly quit his job to go work at the Georgia Aquarium. Over a year after the shark incident I might add. However, according to the social media of his former co-workers from the time, he quit without warning or explanation, and did not even stick around for the two weeks to get his severance pay. Except the aquarium did not hire him until three weeks later. And, hrm, a moment. . . . Ah, and it appears they moved the same day they quit, selling their old home by proxy from Georgia."
Bruce's brow furrowed a little at that. For people that Diana had such confidence in as warriors, they had certainly fled as fast as possible.
"He's clearly well appreciated in his new line of work though. Shortly after he joined, there was a noticeable increase in attendees, and he has represented them in several TV interviews."
An image popped up of a handsome man in his twenties at a talk show. Messy black hair which was dashing in a way celebrities would spend thousands of dollars every morning to imitate, and captivating sea-green eyes. Even without audio, he managed to portray a sense of friendliness and charisma.
"Now his wife, Annabeth Jackson-Chase, owns and runs a small yet prestigious architectural company, Estelle Designs. More importantly, her designs are credited not only for the quality of its aesthetic beauty, or how structurally sound they are, but also revolutionary new forms of using space, acoustics, and more. Indeed, Wayne Enterprises has hired them for projects several times, but they insist on remaining independent." Ah, and Bruce's people would not 'waste his time' by telling him about companies they were hiring, preferring to tell him more about what their own firm was accomplishing.
There was a brief pause. "Their popularity and business has also boomed after the tragedy in Metropolis, when Superman fought the other Kryptonian. Despite how her work was as damaged as everywhere else, people realised that not only did her safety features keep more people alive than other places, they were much easier to repair and for a nominal sum."
He fought down the pang of guilt over what he had allowed that devastation to drive him to do, and acknowledged that was indeed an impressive accomplishment.
A picture popped up of a strikingly beautiful young woman, with blonde hair, and grey eyes. Where her husband appeared friendly, she excluded an aura of extreme competence which only heightened her attractiveness.
Neither of them resembled fighters though, even if they looked to be in reasonably good shape.
"What else?"
"An impressive police record for both of them, usually involving them winding up in muggings, break-ins, and assaults. As in they are intervening and stopping them. They have been investigated for vigilantism, but apparently they just have dumb luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Repeatedly. At the very least most of them appear to be happenstance. So at any rate, they can fight."
Hmm, alright.
"Second of all, large parts of their personal records are false. They are high quality forgeries too, according to the Batcomputer." Their systems had software to search through each and every file for irregularities, and rate the quality. That and other tools they had developed over the years were why Alfred was able to pull everything together so quickly. Well, that and the fact his butler was rather clever in his own right.
"Near as I can tell, the earliest genuine records are for their post-secondary educations and marriage certificate, while everything beforehand is faked. It is as if they appeared out of nowhere."
Brows furrowed a little in thought, Bruce absently nodded. "When did they marry?"
"Straight out of high school as soon as they were eighteen, which is also the very first genuine document. They also appear to be a pair of romantics, as they were originally Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase."
Not even the Dark Knight could suppress the small smile which slipped out. "Taking each other's names, huh?"
"Apparently so."
"I'll refer to them by their first names then. Keep it simpler.
"You said they've been in fights. Any medical records?"
"None beyond the fake ones for childhood vaccinations and such."
"Social media?"
"Nothing beyond generic personal pages about them on the company websites. Looking at their phone history, their calls are mostly work related, or to each other, and even then barely used."
"Tax irregularities?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary. I'd say they're almost too perfect if not for their issues with criminals."
"Interesting. Anything else?"
"Just the one thing. I believe I have some idea now as to what Mrs. Prince was referring to in terms of them paying a heavy price. Sir, assuming they aren't like her, they're both only twenty-three years old. Younger than Mr. Allen even."
He stilled.
"In fact, given when the forgeries started, one would surmise that whatever they did to earn the respect of a goddess, and feel they had apparently earned retirement, all happened to them before they were seventeen."
Like Dick, thought Bruce. His son had only made it to eighteen himself . . .
Yes, that definitely put a different spin on things.
"I'll send you the raw data for your own examination, sir," Alfred dutifully finished, knowing he had said what he needed to say.
-X\/X\/X-
It was an unassuming building for an architectural enterprise.
Oh, seven stories high, all owned by the company itself was noteworthy enough, yet there was nothing particularly fancy to make it stick out from all the others around it. One could even say it was camouflaged within the urban sprawl.
Bruce took a moment to take another look around, and headed inside, leaving his rental car parked out front. It wasn't a handicapped space or fire lane, and a parking ticket would hardly dent his finances, and it fit the persona of being rich, arrogant, and eccentric he still tried to maintain despite how his life had changed. You never knew when the reporters might be watching after all.
Once inside though, despite all his experience at elite establishments, he found himself raising an impressed eyebrow.
He craned his head around to take in the view. It was all unquestionably gorgeous, and a prime source of advertising.
The lobby was open, with clever positioning of mirrors and windows to make it appear even more spacious. Couches were off to the side, along with tables and filled bookshelves, where it looked like some of the staff were having a break. Some young adults he pegged as here for job applications were also nervously sitting there.
The path to the elevator was a crisp, white marble, with tall, square pillars which fell short of the ceiling, lining it. Although the design of the ceiling, with capitals of the columns, and the artistic designs all carved into them, were not something he had seen before. Beautiful, deep, and flowing in an almost hypnotic manner. All in all, elegant and tasteful in his professional opinion.
A few steps in, and he stopped to take in the echoing of his feet on the marble floor. It was sharp and distinctive, while somehow the right pitch to not be annoying. In fact he would say it was just right to raise your awareness. However—
Openly looking at the staff and students, his loud footsteps did not seem to be bothering them. Intrigued, he looked up at the ceiling again in thought, considering how carefully it had been sculpted, before tapping his foot to create the sharp noise, and then stepped off the path towards the seating area. He reached one foot back into the walkway, and used the same amount of force there, except this time the noise was somehow muted to barely anything.
Feeling a gaze on him, he looked to see the staff grinning at him.
Pointing a finger up, he said, "Nice acoustics." Revolutionary even.
"Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet!" boasted one of them.
"I'm looking forward," he smiled, and continued his echoing way to the elevator.
It was becoming increasingly obvious to him that it was an oversight on his part that he had missed these people. For Mrs. Jackson-Chase to be such an accomplished architect, and have her own company, she was automatically a minor celebrity in the business community. Clearly he had been too lazy, relying upon Luthor and Waller's findings. Although apparently these two had slipped under their radars as well . . .
Overall though, he was now looking forward to meeting them.
-X/\X/\X-
Looking at the elevator directory, Bruce was tempted to stop at the floors which according to the legend boasted examples of their work, and where the main business was conducted. The sixth and seventh floors were left blank though. After a little thought, he chose the sixth, figuring the top floor was too obvious, while someone with such obvious talent could easily sneak in an escape route to the roof if they wanted to.
Pausing to use the tactfully placed hand sanitizer dispenser, he got aboard and set the destination. While timing how fast it rose, he allowed himself to enjoy the elevator music. A sort of cheery, uplifting swing rock which he had to resist tapping his foot to. He made a mental bet that a different song would play on the way down.
The doors opened on the sixth floor to an open office space. Despite how many desks there were, and the lack of cubicle walls, the noise was muted like downstairs. Definitely needed at Wayne Enterprises, he thought as he noted similar flowing designs on the walls and ceiling somehow responsible for it all. Pictures decorated the wall, alternating from famous historical pieces of architecture from around the globe, and what were impressive looking buildings most likely designed by this very company.
Striding forward like he owned the place, people glanced at him before resuming their work. One or two seemed to recognize him though, and from the corner of his eye saw them typing into their phones.
Turning a corner, he was satisfied to find himself in a more open space, with an obvious secretarial desk beside an imposing set of doors. Notably, they were adjacent to the long hallway to reach them, and footsteps made noise once more. Even when he tried to be quiet. So not only was someone unable to sneak up on them, anyone assaulting this place would not have a direct pathway to the main office. Quite security conscious then, while various pieces of artwork helped distract from the hidden intentions here, along with a few more architectural pictures.
He would have to figure out how to beat the floor part though.
"Can I help you?" asked the secretary, glancing up from her phone. Nice to confirm her co-workers had warned her, and to see loyal employees.
As for the woman herself, middle aged, with her own sense of confidence. Obviously hired with a mind towards competence over a pretty face. No name-tag.
"I'm here to speak with Mrs. Jackson-Chase," he said. While planning to use their first names, best be extra polite here. "And her husband," he added. At the very least he knew their phones were here.
"I see," she said, not volunteering anything else.
"I am Bruce Wayne by the way, and I have much to discuss with them."
Despite her professional mask, he can still see the process of her trying to place the name, and the dawning recognition. Understandable. After what . . . happened to Dick, the public persona of him as just a dimwitted playboy had shifted. Unintentionally even, missing it in his grief until Alfred had pointed it out, and then he had run with it. That after the 'unfortunate accident' which had killed his ward, Bruce Wayne had matured into a more serious, and dutiful businessman. Keeping out of the public eye as he brooded.
"I see," she repeated herself, but his trained ears caught how it was a bit more strained now.
"I know they're probably eating right now," he smiled, making a point of glancing at his watch. In fact, he had timed it so, as he had hacked their phone GPS records to learn Percy left the aquarium every lunch break to come here. Given Diana's concerns, it seemed worthwhile to approach them without any advance warning in case they bolted, yet somewhere they felt secure, while not intruding upon the 'sanctity' of their home. Now though, he was curious what surprises they had set up there, especially as they would not have to be as subtle about it as they were here in public.
"And I bet this is her real office, while they've got another one downstairs for any regular customers who show up. But it really is time critical. If it helps, tell them Diana sent me."
She stared at him for another moment, before nodding. "I'll see what they have to say." Instead of getting up though, her fingers flew over her keyboard. Huh, so he could not overhear what she was saying, read her lips, or even guess at what she was typing with the desk blocking his view.
Well, that fit the pattern. However now he started to feel a faint prickle of unease at the sensation since he recognized how casual and habitual the layers of security and privacy were in this place. Whoever these people were, they did not feel they had escaped whatever violence lay in their past. Already it was obvious they would be a harder sell than Barry was.
He waited a minute patiently, while her eyes remained on her screen. Then they flickered at something, and she gestured at the door. "You may go in."
While she remained safely where she was. Now he was rather curious as to what the reply had been.
Well, into the lion's den.
His earlier impressions were further reinforced just by the door itself. Oh, sure, it was light and easy to move, yet the feel of it as he opened them was reminiscent of a few he had discovered in travels which could be reinforced with hidden mechanisms. At a flick of a switch, these would become far sturdier, and locked tight.
The second hint was the layout, continuing the trend from the hallway. Most offices were facing the door head-on, except there was only a blank wall before him, with the rest of the office actually being to the right, just out of sight as you stood in the doorway.
Lower exposure, and more reaction time to attack.
Statues, and tables holding models of buildings decorated the otherwise wide open place, except he was confident they were only there for improvised weaponry. Some probably booby-trapped against others trying to use them for that in turn.
One way or another, I must have Mrs. Annabeth Jackson-Chase look at my own places. Not just architecture, she has an excellent eye for detail and self-defence.
Honestly, it's wonderful to see someone else taking preparation so seriously. Why with her, it might take more than a minute for Diana to penetrate the security I spent millions on.
Oh, and some more pictures on the wall. Particularly of the happy couple in front of completed buildings this company had made. Yet none of their relatives, nor their younger years.
Speaking of which . . .
He took a few seconds to discretely look at the duo themselves, while he made a show of taking in the place, showing how impressed he was. If not for the usual reasons their regular guests had.
Finally he regarded the people Diana had sent him to recruit with naught but cryptic words.
They were sitting easily at the executive desk, half-eaten lunches beside them.
Behind him, the door swung shut on its own, and locked tight.
Like her picture, Annabeth was sharp and beautiful, and her grey eyes blazed with a vivid intelligence. However it had failed to capture the commanding presence she comfortably wore, despite her appearance of polite interest. He would comfortably call her majestic even, and he had met many 'important' people in his time, and few if any could pull off that sort of appearance so naturally as if you were born to it.
With Percy though, he knew at once he had come to the right place; had found a fighter.
Gone was the friendly attitude in all the pictures Alfred had sent, replaced by an apex predator.
While Annabeth was casually sitting in her seat, elbows planted and fingers laced before her, and a half-eaten, homemade sandwich laid out in front of her, a laptop to the side, her husband was perched on the corner of the desk, tense and coiled to spring. Jaw and fists clenched with suppressed violence, and those eyes . . . Cold and threatening, with a promise of pain and death if crossed.
In his younger days, as Batman he would have accepted the challenge, seeing who would dominate the other through sheer personality. Even considering it a necessary risk so long as he managed to establish his authority as a peer or leader over these two.
Now though, he just ignored the temptation. Escalating the situation by trying to figure out who the biggest Alpha was would not get him anywhere here.
A beat of silence, so he decided to take the initiative with a slight bow of his head. "Mrs. Annabeth Jackson-Chase. Mr. Percy Chase-Jackson."
"Mr. Batman," acknowledged Annabeth.
What.
How.
Even as the shock rolled over him though, Bruce only allowed his eyebrows to raise fractionally.
Percy blinked a few times, before clapping his hands, seeming to relax slightly. "Oh I get it!" And by his expression he really did, having followed his own chain of logic.
"Impressive!" Bruce praised, not bothering to deny it. "How'd you know?"
Coolly, Annabeth said, "When you came in, you were scoping out the location while pretending to just admire it all. Exits, threats, our position and whoever else might be in here, potential weapons, and us. The way you walk seems casual, like an amateur with little balance, yet instead really the stride of a fighter concealing who they are." She paused, and Percy took up the explanation.
"So that means you're more than just a playboy billionaire from Gotham, or former playboy, like Cheryl said in her message," —ah, so that was the secretary's name— "and what we looked up on the internet while you waited. Next, we've seen on the news about Batman. He's been a vigilante for twenty years, fighting crime with expensive gadgets, and, well, that bit about your parents gives you motive. Also, Annabeth was totally wrong about who you are."
They're both smart. She's maybe the smarter of the two, but I can't underestimate either of them.
Of course I can't risk overestimating either.
Almost despite herself, Annabeth gave an amused huff, even if her body never shifted otherwise. "Yes, well, I assumed Batman had no civilian identity beyond a variety of fake ones to go outside. Would make things much easier, while funding himself by various investments and robbing criminals."
"You're only saying that because it's what you'd do in his place," said Percy, grim mood broken by a small smile.
"As if you wouldn't do the same."
"Huh," Bruce praised faintly, giving a small nod. "As I said, impressive. But please, call me Bruce. But would you care to guess how many senior members of major intelligence agencies have been fooled by that act? Although," and now it was his turn to shrug, "I wasn't really hiding it this time. I came here intending to tell it to you as a token of trust, and to emphasize the seriousness of the situation. Plus I did drop Diana's name, and she'd never tell a vapid playboy about you two."
The tension rocketed up.
With a cock of his head, he gave it another moment of thought, and said, "I'm going to guess you're Greek demigods."
The twitch of Percy's fingers sent a warning chill down his spine.
". . . Very good," conceded Annabeth. "What made you realise that?"
"She's a Greek goddess, but was tip-toeing around anything which could be seen as giving you guys any orders, or interfering with your business. In turn you're obviously very wary of her. Plus, I took a look at all the photos and paintings on my way in, of famous historical work or what you've designed yourself, and while you have themes and examples ranging from classic Edo Period to German castles, Mayan to post-modern, absolutely nothing with significant Greco-Roman in it. Or at least not overtly. Curious given how prominent they are in Western culture. So there's a connection. However, while Diana's features are objectively perfect, you guys have slight imperfections to your faces which make me think you aren't exactly the same as her."
"You calling me ugly?" asked Percy with a raised eyebrow.
Playing dumb? Trying to goad me?
"Don't worry, I still think you're pretty," smiled Annabeth.
Keeping us on task? Or meant to lightly mock me too? Is this exchange scripted or automatic?
"If you accept some myths are real, then you have to consider the possibilities about the gods having children with Humans, or demigods if you will. They tended to have violent and tragic lives, and you both definitely fit the first part, and it would explain why she was so insistent she would prefer to leave you in retirement."
"And yet here you are, knocking on our door," glowered Percy.
"I assume you know your mother wouldn't send me—" Bruce cut himself off at the look of utter confusion on Percy's face, which quickly shifted to appalled.
"What!? Diana's not my mother!" he cried out, appearing genuine offended. "My mother is an absolute angel, and far better than that!"
Oh. Awkward. So not a child with a similar lifespan by Steve Trevor then? It would have helped explain her reluctance, and he had been sure that messy, black hair . . .
"Ah, my apologies." His eyes shifted to Annabeth, who shook her head. Given the conflicted emotions roiling in her eyes, she did not trust herself to speak.
Oops.
"My dad was—" Percy cut himself off, and twisted to share a look with Annabeth. A wordless conversation flashed between them, and Bruce settled in for a show of minute facial expressions which managed to convey entire sentences between them.
Turning back to him, Annabeth flatly said, "What has Lady Diana so concerned?"
'Lady.' Interesting.
"There are enemies coming from far away. We need warriors. We're building an alliance to defend ourselves."
Simple and to the point.
"There's always another war coming," said Annabeth matter-of-factly. "What do you mean by 'far away'?"
"An alien invasion from another universe. They've conquered many, many worlds in the past, but were repelled here before, thousands of years ago."
"Huh, aliens," sighed Percy, falling back into a world-weary expression. And honestly Bruce was a little unnerved by the overall lack of reaction to that news. A mixture of self-confidence that even monsters from the stars he knew nothing about could not stop him, and a resigned refusal to care about such a threat. Meanwhile, Annabeth maintained her mask of neutral attentiveness, yet he had a similar sense from her. This jaded reaction to the threat of violence gave more credibility to Diana's warning, and now he was worried these two had been pushed so far that they would refuse to help even though they could. That too much had been demanded of them to care.
Is this what Dick could have grown up to be like?
He had to handle this very carefully.
"Diana can tell the story better," Bruce said. "But this took place thousands of years ago, when Darkseid, the alien god who leads them, invaded with his army to wipe out or enslave all life. To stop him it took the unified armies of Men from across the globe, the Amazons, the Atlanteans before they went undersea—"
That got a reaction from Percy, and by that spark of anger in his eyes, the billionaire had a foreboding suspicion as to why this couple had moved inland so suddenly. Not that Bruce showed any sign he noticed.
"—what she called 'guardians from the stars,' and the gods themselves. It took Zeus and Ares working together to best Darkseid personally, and even then he survived."
"Impressive," acknowledged Percy blandly. "Except for the part where afterwards everybody went back to their squabbles, including the gods messing things up for Mortals."
"Personally," said Annabeth, "if the aliens are being repelled by Humans armed with just swords and spears, then they aren't too advanced."
"Oh," beamed Percy, "do you think it was like the Ewoks versus Stormtroopers?"
. . . Okay, time to press harder.
If this was not enough to faze them, Earth definitely needed them. Later he and the others could figure out just how shell-shocked the couple were, and how to work around it. Moreover, they were not taking this threat seriously enough.
It was only the surety they would refuse to answer, and kick him out, which kept Bruce from pressing to know about their past. About what they had gone through to let such revelations just roll off them.
What have they been through that Diana calls them heroes with a hint of reverence?
What have they suffered for us all that it has scarred them so badly?
What have I missed?
Still, he figured mentioning an alien invasion had bought him some more breathing room. For the novelty if nothing else. Now he had to bypass all the shields they had put up around their hearts to keep from being hurt again. Thankfully he had met Barry before these two.
"I think you two care more than you'd like to pretend. More than you want to believe yourselves even, when it comes to the fate of the world—"
Hmm, micro-twitches at that phrase.
"—and everyone on it. Because these enemies will kill everyone, and you know it."
"We have only your word to trust on this," said Annabeth icily.
"Maybe so. But what if you come back with me, and see what we have with your own eyes?" He steamrolled on before they could say anything. "You simply tell people you're discussing some highly exclusive and profitable contracts with Wayne Enterprises, which will indeed be legitimate regardless. Yes, neither of you care about the money, but it won't hurt your or your employees. While there though, you can at least help us with your experience. Your expertise. We're still playing catch-up while the aliens are already here, looking for three artifacts crucial to the last invasion, and were hidden by the people of Earth. I'm asking you to please," manners cost nothing, "come back with me to the Batcave," a little dash of mystery, "to meet the team, and act as consultants to help us figure out a plan of action."
That at least seemed to have taken them off-guard, particularly Percy.
"Besides, consider the long-term benefits beyond stopping the end of the world. Having people who actually know you're demigods? Being able to actually talk to them about the craziness in your lives without as many secrets?"
As one they scowled, and he knew he had overplayed his hand. The couple knew, or at least suspected, he was trying to make them emotionally invested so it was harder for them to back out.
However . . .
They were not outright refusing either . . .
"At least give it a try," he offered. "You can always walk away. I'm sure you can survive the coming storm."
Silence.
Then Percy tried a different approach, and Bruce was the one off-balance. "You said three artifacts. What are they?"
"Magical, shiny squares called Mother Boxes. One was guarded by the Amazons, and they sent word to Diana that it had been stolen from them. We have no idea yet where the others were hidden, only that the Atlanteans and regular Humans were each charged with one. I don't suppose you know anything about that?"
"No."
"Nope."
"Ah, well, I guess it would be a bit much of a coincidence if you just happened to know where to look."
"Of course."
Before he could say anything else, her laptop pinged, and Annabeth glanced at it, raising an eyebrow. "Apparently we've got another mysterious guest who wants a word."
Link: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/14030547/1/The-Second-Age-of-Heroes