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The Games that Gods Play	By : Ristul Category: DC Verse Comics > Wonder Woman Views: 16896 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Wonder Woman,nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Pain and fear comprise the forge in which the finest living weapons are created. It holds true for both men and demons.
-Rytais
The goddess Athena glanced at her chess board, the white and black pieces representing the various forces at her and her opponent’s disposal. class=GramE>White for her, black for her opponent.
Her pieces were arrayed in an excellent defensive position, while those of her opponent were poised to strike. The troubling thing was that with all her wisdom, she could not tell if her play was good enough to deflect the attack. Her opponent’s front piece, the most important one, an unpredictable black Knight holding two swords, stood ready to wreck havoc amongst her pieces.
Her Queen, a beautiful figure adorned with bracelets and tiara, was in grave peril.
Athena pondered the problem. She had to take out the Knight. And she realized she did not have to use her own forces to do so. There were many other pieces she could bring onto the board to remove that troublesome piece.
The Goddess of Wisdom smiled.

Wonder Woman tried hard not to laugh at the silly sight of Angle Man trying to balance precarious towers of boxes in his arms as he trailed after her and Donna Troy. Gawain nearly tripped over a crack in the pavement, but the excellent balance of a blademaster came through, and he recovered smoothly.
“Donna, are you stopping for the day?” Then Diana whispered softly to her sister. “I think you’ve tortured him enough already.” He could teleport the bags and boxes to their destination, but Donna had expressly forbidden it.
“Hey, I heard that!” Despite his predicament, Gawain was smiling good naturedly.
class=GramE>“Nah. He’s a strong guy, he can take it,” said Donna. “Besides, if he can’t do this, he’ll have no chance on Themyscira.”
Diana smiled. “I think you exaggerate. Our sisters aren’t that bad.”
Donna shuddered. “Diana, better to be prepared for the worst. Mother can be well… hard to predict.”
“I think you worry too much.” Diana squeezed Donna reassuringly on one arm.
“Don’t worry, Donna.” Gawain offered, his face reddening almost imperceptibly, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Donna smiled back, and Diana almost had to shied her eyes away as the couple exchanged glances that were filled with so much love. She was happy for Donna, but also felt a ugly twinge of jealousy at the same time.
They reached Donna’s apartment, and Gawain placed all the bags onto the floor with obvious relief. He bade goodbye to the sisters, citing a need to help Jake out at the café, where he was a part owner.
After he left, Diana sat down on the couch with her sister Donna. She said, “So…”
“So?”
“This seems serious.”
Donna Troy nodded. “We are serious about this, if that’s what you mean. I’m even bringing Gawain to Themyscira to meet mother!”
“But,” Diana said worriedly, “We know so little about him, about his past. And his present vocation isn’t exactly an honorable one…”
“I know.” Donna drew up her legs to her chest and hugged them. “He said to give him time. Besides, he said that with the money Phillip Delacroix gave him for the Godwar, he’s thinking of retiring from the bounty hunting and mercenary business.”
“There’s more.” Diana continued, “He knows Phillip Delacroix. It should be obvious, from the way they talked to each other. Phillip is one of Ares’ men, and I fear…”
“He’ll somehow cause me harm because of that?” Donna shook her head.
“I’m not saying that. I’m just afraid you’ll get hurt. Which is why you need to clear things up with Gawain as soon as possible, rather than let things remain as they are in the illusion that nothing is wrong.”
“We know what we need to work on.” Donna admitted slowly. “We need time to do that though. But I’m sure, really, really sure, that he’s the one.”
“What makes him so different from those before?” Diana asked curiously.
Donna held up a hand and stretched out her fingers. “Terry couldn’t deal with my being a superheroine. Gawain doesn’t have a problem with that.” She ticked off a finger. “Kyle… we were both rebounding at the time, me from my failed marriage, and Kyle…” She paused, and did not complete that sentence. There was no need to. Diana knew the tragedy that had happened to Green Lantern. “As for Roy, it was because I wanted to play the part of a bad girl for a time, dating the bad boy of the superhero community.” She sighed, “That wasn’t really me either.”
“Isn’t Gawain a ‘bad boy’?” Diana asked with some confusion. She might had been in Man’s World for many years, but some of the more obscure social codes and terms still eluded her. She never made the same mistake twice though. “I mean, he is not exactly on the side of the law…”
Donna giggled, “No. A bad boy is one who plays the field, and Gawain doesn’t do that. He doesn’t seem bothered by anything, come to think of it.” Then her smile turned crafty. “Enough about me! What about you? Any changes in your love life?”
“Beyond the lack of one?” Diana raised a perfect eyebrow.
“Oh come on!” Donna made a dismissive gesture. “There’s no shortage of eligible bachelors always trying to impress you. They might be intimidated, but they certainly don’t lack the courage to try. I’ve been on some of those diplomatic soirees with you, remember?”
“And I’ve turned down every one of them. I just don’t have the time.”
“That’s just an excuse. You were busy last time, but that didn’t stop you from going after Trevor Barnes, did it?” Donna’s face fell as she saw the grief in Diana’s eyes. “Oh Diana, I’m sorry.”
“He died well.” Wonder Woman replied softly. “Saving the gods and the world from the Shattered God. I recall him fondly.”
“But don’t tell me there aren’t any men who are just as good as him.” Donna clasped her hands around Diana’s, and smiled mischievously. “The night before we went to Asgard, I woke up in the middle of the night to relieve myself, and I heard voices in the kitchen. You were talking to Phillip Delacroix.”
“And?” Diana remained nonplussed.
“You once said of Trevor that he was ‘passionate, smart, sexy, and incredibly beautiful.’” Donna mimicked her sister’s fawning tone on Themsycira, just before the civil war that had wracked their paradise. “Well, Mister Delacroix is all of that, and filthy rich on top of it all. So why don’t you give him a try?”
The elder Princess replied, “He works for Ares.” As though it explained everything. Which it did, in a way.
“Come on, you can’t let that stop you!”
“More than that, he’s…” Diana struggled to find the correct description, “…dangerous. Deadly, maybe even suicidal. How many men would have dared to outright insult Cronus, Zeus, and Odin? Make enemies out of them all in the course of a few days?”
“That only shows that he’s got guts.” Donna said half admiringly. “I’ve heard horror stories of what Zeus is often up to. How Hera could stand him and his antics is beyond me.”
“But Donna, he works for Ares!” Diana repeated more strongly this time.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t believe he’s a bad guy. Gawain knows him, and trusts him. That’s enough to tell me there’s more to the man than we know. Has he been anything less than honorable in your dealings?”
Diana pondered that point, and conceded, “No, he has been very forthright. The first time we met, he admitted he was working for Ares, and I didn’t even need to prompt him.” She sighed. “I don’t know. The goddesses are very wary of him, and I’ve heard more than one of them warn me about any contact with him. Furthermore, he’s already involved with somebody else.”
“Who?”
“Veronica Cale.”
“What?” Donna was flabbergasted. “That shrew? She’s tried to destroy your reputation for years. And now she’s going after your man?”
Diana shot her sister a look of exasperation. “He’s not my man.”
“Ah, but you are interested.” Donna smirked. “Give it a shot. He’s interested too, I can tell. When the two of you stand together, there’s an electric feel that just seems so right.”
“Enough of this.” Embarassed, Wonder Woman tried to change the topic. “Donna, have you given any thought as to what you are going to do next?”
“Huh? Aren’t we going out for dinner later?”
“No, no.” Diana asked patiently. “I meant what you are planning to do for your life.”
“Oh. You know I’ve been getting back in the photography business, and…”
The older princess interrupted, “What about the Titans?”
Donna replied thoughtfully, “I’ve not really considered getting back into superhero-ing, if that’s what you mean. I’ve always been part of a group, the Teen Titans, then the Darkstars, and then the Titans again. But now the Titans have split, and Cassie’s doing well in the Teen Titans. I really have no idea where to go next.”
“Have you considered the options?”
“Sure, I could join some other group, but I’ll be redundant in the Outsiders. I thought about going solo, but it just didn’t seem right.”
“Any… offers?” Diana went on hesitantly.
“You mean… from the Elite?” Donna shuddered. “Vera Black’s too creepy, and they didn’t ask me. But,” she added thoughtfully, “they did ask Gawain if he was interested in working for them.”
Diana was shocked. “And what did he say?”
“He said he’ll get back to them on the offer. You have to admit with his skills, he’ll fit in perfectly with that group. But I won’t like it.”
“I don’t like it either. Who else?”
“Nobody else. Mother’s already in the Justice Society, and they’re unlikely to ask me. By the way, do you know that Mother’s having an affair with…”
“Wildcat?” Diana laughed softly. “I knew that already. I hope you’re keeping quiet about that, because Mother would have our heads if we leaked her secret to the other Amazons!”
“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t, but it might be useful.” Donna grinned. “She’d not object to Gawain if I remind her of that.”
“Resorting to blackmail already, Donna?”
“No, just in case!” The two Amazon sisters laughed.

Ares sat down in his office in the Areopagus, tapping a finger impatiently as he waited. It was nine, and getting late. Phillip Delacroix stumbled through the door, mumbling, “Sorry, sorry.”
“You’re an hour late.”
Phillip gulped. “Important business.”
“Ah yes.” Ares smirked. “Enjoying yourself with Veronica Cale, eh?”
“Just a movie and some chit chat at Jake’s café.” Phillip said defensively. “I had to make it up to her after we decided that we didn’t require her services. And it’s better to remain on her good side.”
“Indeed.” Ares was dubious, but he let it slide. “So, have you prepared for today’s planning session?”
“Somewhat.” Phillip held out a small case from his bag. “Did you get what you wanted?”
Ares smiled. “Oh yes. A snapshot of Athena’s chess board.” He waved a hand, allowing a representation of her board to appear in the office. “As you can see, she has positioned her pieces very well defensively.” Athena had many pieces, and the most obvious and powerful one was Wonder Woman, represented by the Queen.
“And you want to find the chink in her armor.” Phillip placed his case on the table. It was a small wooden board.
“Yes, I need to find some way to gain an edge.” Ares admitted reluctantly, “I’ve never been able to beat her at chess.”
“Then don’t play her game.” Phillip smiled carefully, then placed his small board on the table. “Play something else. Use something else to represent your own game, your own schemes. Ever heard of samor?” He wiped one hand across the surface of the board, marked by lines. It looked very much like a weiqi board. Ares knew the basics of the game, but never really bothered to study it in detail.
“Samor? Isn’t this just weiqi, or ‘go’ as the Japanese call it?”
Phillip scoffed. “Nope. Samor is similar to go, but the differences… well, you’ll see.” He took out two small bowls, one filled with black stones, one filled with white stones, and gave a bowl to Ares. “Count the stones, make sure you have about three hundred of them.”
“Once upon a time,” Phillip started to speak conversationally while they counted, “there was a bunch of very bored gods standing around. So they invented a game, called Life. The game was played on a vast board called the universe, and it had countless number of pieces, each of which could be moved in untold millions of ways. It was a very complicated game, and even the gods found it hard to remember all the rules and the current state of the game.”
Ares grinned, “Despite what Zeus says, we didn’t create life…”
Phillip cut him off, “Oh, I know that, but that’s not the point. Anyway, the gods found very few things difficult, and they were captivated by the game. In the infinity of time at their disposal, they planned their strategies, made their moves, counted their victories and losses. The centuries ticked away, and still all of them were addicted to the game they had invented. They didn’t bother about anything else.”
“But in time everything repeats itself,” said Phillip, so softly Ares had to lean forward to hear his words. “The game of Life was made up of an enormous Pattern, and like any other pattern it had recurring themes. Soon, if a billion years could be called “soon”, the gods learned to recognize these themes, and the game of Life became predictable. With predictability came boredom. Where was the fun in that?”
“So one of them, don’t ask me who, realized the game was restricted because all the movements of all the pieces were prescribed. There were rules, complicated and many, but they were rigid, and fixed. Even changing the rules of the game, adding new options, new pieces, the game would still be finite. At some point, every possibility would be exhausted, and the pattern would recur. So this god did something else. He implanted souls into the pieces, gave them free will, the ability to choose what they wished to do next.”
Ares suddenly felt very small, chills running down his spine. He had never heard the gods described in such a manner, yet when he examined Phillip’s words, they made a whole lot of sense. But who were those gods? He had a feeling Phillip’s definition might be a bit different from his.
Phillip continued, “Now there wasn’t a pattern to the game of Life, and all the fun was back. Never has the pattern been repeated since, but that isn’t to say there isn’t one. It’s a pattern without end, one woven across the fabric of space and time, across the universe.”
He stopped speaking, and Ares looked at him, waiting for him to add something more. As though Phillip wanted him to respond.
“This game… is the game I’m playing now with Athena, isn’t it? And you, and all the other mortals on Earth, are just pieces on the board.”
Phillip smiled sadly. “Of course. But just to make the game more interesting, the gods gamble on the outcomes. Those stakes are our souls.”
Ares shook his head, “We do not claim souls…”
“Then what is Elysium? Valhallaclass=GramE>? Those were for souls, the souls of those pieces favored by the gods, because they support them. Support the wrong side… Poof!” Phillip made an exploding motion with his hands.
Ares nodded, realization coming to him. It was a model, of artificial flesh molded on a skeleton of reality. He also realized Phillip was challenging him to consider the implications of his own existence, his very godhood, and his actions.
“I think I know the rest of your story. The gods, some of them had been knocked out. They’ve lost all their pieces, and so they have to quit. Right now, I’m playing against Athena, and the game’s outcome is still in the balance. If I lose, she’s not likely to show mercy to a failed gambler.”
Phillip waved a hand encouragingly. “Go on.”
“More important than that…” Ares suppressed a shudder at the unbelievable notion. “Am I just a pawn for somebody else? Is somebody else manipulating my actions the way I pull you and the others around like puppets on a string?”
“There’s more.” Phillip added quietly. “Isolated in their godhood, the players don’t realize they’ve made a mistake. A mistake of truly god-like proportions. You are a god. Do you realize what mistake it is?”
Ares sucked in his breath, then continued for Phillip, speaking equally softly. “The game of Life is, by design, endless. Nobody can ever win the ultimate victory. I can claim Olympus, but there’ll always be somebody who’ll oppose me. Even if Athena wins, and the Amazon Princess manages to instill peace throughout the world, there’ll still be a pocket of war… somewhere. Not to mention the universe outside Earth. Darkseid, Imperiex, Mageddon, Neron. All foes. class=GramE>From out there.”
The god of conflict shook his head in disbelief, “But that means everything I do is for naught! What is the point if I can never sit easy knowing that danger to me will always exist?” He took out a flask of ambrosia from his desk, and downed a long swallow, trying to calm himself down.
“Did you really mean that?” Phillip asked, his expression shrewd.
“No.” Ares closed his eyes, then opened them, said, “It’s just a story behind a game. Nothing more.”
“Oh, it’s no mere story. A bit exaggerated here and there, but much of it true. You wouldn’t be so distressed if it wasn’t.”
Ares laughed unhappily. “That is an unique description.”
What Phillip had suggested was blasphemy, and would undoubtedly anger his peers on Olympus, plus lynching in many places, but Ares understood. It explained a great deal about the questions he always had but never really dared to examine. Was he, then, just a player that was himself a pawn being manipulated by some higher power? He certainly was not omniscient, nor was he all-powerful. Perhaps, he was nothing more than a very powerful piece in somebody else’s hands.
“Really, Ares, ever think about who you are? What you are doing? Why you even exist? I know you want to unseat Zeus, but what about after that? Would you seek yet more power, play the game on a higher level, against Odin, the other high gods? And spread out from beyond Earth, seeking more worshippers, more power, more security?” Phillip asked tiredly, “When is enough… enough?”
Ares sat back, pondering the questions. He mentally laid them to one side, and shot them right back at Phillip, “What about yourself? Do you know the answers to those questions if I asked you?”
A slow sad smile came over Delacroix’s face. “Yes, I’ve my answers ready long ago, because I’ll need them when I go to hell.” He sat up abruptly, “Well now, we were going to play samor.”
Ares nodded. “Yes indeed.”
“I was taught the game quite a few years ago, and it was said to be invented by a magician who cast the randomization spells on the stones and created the grey pieces. But it wasn’t really invented. Rather, the magician perceived the essence of the game of Life, and simplified it.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“You were not wrong when you called it weiqi. But there are crucial differences. A spell has been cast on the stones that offers the possibility of switching colors, to grey for neutrality, or much more unlikely, the opposite color. Grey neutral pieces have equal probability to switch to either color. Grey pieces are empty spaces when considering liberties, but not for placement.” He shrugged. “Using a computer program for this is actually easier than getting somebody to enchant the pieces and the board, but nothing beats the feel of real pieces and the snap of the stones on the wood. And no computer program has been designed that can beat a good weiqi player, not to say of samor.”
Ares thought it was simple enough. “Got it. Let’s start.”
Phillip pointed to the board. “Let me remind you that unlike chess, which is mainly tactical attrition, weiqi and by extension samor, are games of territory, strategy, and logistics, and some luck. The strength of a piece lies in its position. Weiqi is known as the game of life and death for a damn good reason. In some respects, samor is even more difficult. You’re a beginner, so I give you a seven stones handicap. Place seven black stones on the board. Then press your hands to the side of the board at the same time as me to start the game proper by activating the randomization spell.”
Ares did as Phillip asked, and then the game started when they placed their hands on the board at the same time, the God of Conflict feeling as though the stones themselves have come to life on a living battlefield.
He didn’t quite believe that the game was that tough until he found his pieces in dire straits, cut off from support and floundering when he pushed too hard, and some of his pieces turned traitor at the worst time. Phillip, on the other hand, warded his positions carefully, making sure that only a catastrophic mass desertion could hurt him. An omen for the future, perhaps? In any case, the feeling of losing at samor was even worse than losing at chess.
Without even realizing it, more than three hours had passed. Phillip left, leaving Ares staring intently at the board. In any case, he knew what Phillip was hinting at. If he could master samor, he could use the game to steal a march on Athena.

Gawain Sharpe swallowed hard as he stood outside the doors leading to the great hall of Themyscira, where thousands of Amazons discussed issues important to them. Like the consort of one of their royal princesses.
The doors opened, and an Amazon called out, “Gawain Sharpe! The Queen requests your presence!”
Gawain tugged on his clothes, hoping he looked presentable, then followed the Amazon into the hall.

Queen Hippolyta had been alive for a long time, but she had never been happier at the current state of her world. Her Amazons had pulled together after her death, laying the painful past of the two tribes aside to build true unity. The first topics of discussion for the day had been her new role in Themyscira’s government, and all of it had proceeded extremely smoothly, with not a single Amazon dissenting.
At the end, they had adopted a constitutional monarchic system, with Phillipus in charge of civilian governance as the Chancellor and Artemis in charge of the military as the Shim’Tar, both of them answerable to her, and she to the Amazon nation as a whole, advised by her daughters, the Chancellor, and the Shim’Tar.
Furthermore, they had hashed out the more thorny problem of her yearning to go into Man’s World. Since much of her past responsibilities would now be borne by Phillipus and Artemis, she was actually more free to help out the Justice Society. Still, Hippolyta recognized the harm she had done to Themyscira in the past, and resolved herself to communicate more often with her sister Amazons to avoid such problems in the future.
Diana still retained her status as the Champion of the Amazons, and their Ambassador, and Donna’s somewhat ambiguous status was also clarified. Amazon volunteers would continue to be sent out to Man’s World to investigate evil doing and seek to improve the lot of women.
And so they came to the final item of the day.
Stark interest and challenge was evident in the faces and bodies of the Amazons as they observed from their rows along the hall a man led by a spear toting Amazon walking towards her throne. He was dressed in a manner reminiscent of the military, but bore no awards or decorations, only the gleaming metal triangle on his right hip. He looked nervous, but what man would not be, surrounded by thousands of Amazons likely to be hostile? Especially if they perceived that he was going to defile one of their Princesses?
The Amazon guide/guard bowed to her, “Your Highness, Gawain Sharpe!”
“Thank you, Panthea,” said Hippolyta. The guard stood to one side.
Gawain bowed, while Hippolyta noted with amusement the nervousness Donna was exhibiting, sitting next to her throne on a smaller, but no less regal chair. She was after all, a Princess of Themsycira, and no mere male was worthy of her.
“Greetings, your Majesty.” Gawain started to say. “I have come in peace and…”
She stopped him by raising her palm towards him. “Mister Sharpe, we all know why you are here.” She smiled like a predator. “Now, what makes you think you are worthy of my daughter?”
He swallowed hard, before replying, “I love her.”
Hippolyta turned her head to look at Donna, who beamed before quickly composing her face into strict neutrality. Inwardly, Hippolyta smirked. “Well, that is a common response. But I demand a more… certain assurance.” She waved a hand, and an Amazon named Iphthime came forward.
“Iphthime has been studying Magala’s spells ever since that…” She choked slightly, “Terrible war. She has attained some level of success, and is now our official magic user. Iphthime?”
The Amazon smiled, holding out a small bowl of water, “I shall now cast a spell that shall reveal your past to all present, Gawain Sharpe. But I need a drop of your blood to do so.”
“Hold up!” Gawain held his hands up. “You’re all assuming I’m agreed to this.”
“And you’re not?” Artemis asked, a dagger held suggestively in her hands.
The awkwardness was suddenly gone from him. He replied seriously, “Lady Artemis, I have no secrets to hide, but some of what you may see involves the secrets of others as well. I am a man of my word, and I have made promises not to tell any of those secrets.”
Hippolyta smiled approvingly, “I understand. But you would not be saying anything. We will be watching. A matter of semantics, agreed, but a crucial one. You have not broken your word, and we shall know your past. To put your mind at ease, let all that is revealed be held in the strictest confidence, within these very halls. Do you trust us to keep our word?” She could see her Amazons nodding in agreement.
He replied solemnly, “I do, but that’s not the point.” She noted that he glanced worriedly at Diana. “Very well then.” He walked up to Iphthime, who handed him a small knife. He nicked himself on a finger, and let a drop of blood onto the bowl of water.
Iphthime started to chant, and smoke rose out of the bowl of water, onto above into the air of the great hall. It slowly parted, colored light and sound coming out of it in a mishmash of images and noise, before slowly coalescing into a steady image, a movie of past reality.
They watched with amazement a baby on a small boat in the sea, then the old withered and broken man who saved the infant. His youth. His first taste of blood and death at the tender age of eight. Ereskel taking him away. Then Predlitz, his first real war. The countless battles after that, often under a huge officer, working with a lean blonde swordsman and a young combat mage. Hippolyta could feel the gamut of emotions, from the utter despair of defeat to heady triumph as she watched the life of a fighting soldier, always struggling against incredible odds.
The Queen of the Amazons was drained when the last image passed, almost four hours later. Shock permeated throughout the hall, Amazons leaning back, numbed by what they had seen. Unforgettable heroism juxtaposed with unspeakable evil. Of powers and monsters beyond anything they had imagined.
Donna, not caring about court etiquette, stood from her seat and flew down to a still Gawain, her face lined with tears. She hugged him, and he placed a hand around her shoulders, holding her close. Somehow, he was comforting her, when it should be the other way round. Hippolyta supposed he had come to terms with his own experiences. Or more likely, he had been hardened by them. Tempered by incomparable horror into an unbreakable weapon.
Hippolyta saw Gawain Sharpe for who he truly was, revealed by the images of his past. He stood very still in their hall, a quiet yet imposing presence, as deep and fathomless as the sea he had grown up with. His aura was one that commanded respect, and Hippolyta scrapped the idea of having him prove his worth in combat with her Amazons.
She asked, “How much of that… is true?”
He answered softly, “Lady Iphthime cast the spell. It can show only truth.”
She looked to a pale Diana, who nodded. As the former goddess of Truth, Diana nevertheless still held the power within her.
The Amazon Queen considered him carefully, as well as what she had seen. He was a commoner, born without noble blood, but there was also no doubt he was a true warrior, worthy of being ranked amongst the legends of Ancient Greece. It was just too bad that whatever they had seen would have to remain within the hall. A record of his adventures would have been a true treasure.
“The demons?” She had thought Neron was bad. Now she knew. Neron was just an annoying little pest.
“If you are lucky… they would never come here. If you are not…” He smiled sadly. “I will fight them to my last breath.”
“And you will.” Hippolyta had no doubt of that. She went on in a brisk tone. “It seems that any disagreement I shall have about your relationship with my daughter will only seem petty now, so I guess I will just have to give my very reluctant blessings.” She smiled. “What say you, fellow sisters?”
They roared their assent, thrusting their fists towards the ceiling of the hall.

Wonder Woman sat down beside Gawain as he sat facing the sea, a sleeping Donna lying on his shoulder. “Can we talk?” The light of the stars shone down on them, glittering in the ebony night. Distant fires lit the beach, and small groups of Amazons were out on the sands as well, talking quietly.
Angle Man shifted slightly to look at her out of the corner of his eyes. “Yes, we can. About anything except what went on in there.”
She sighed, remembering the promise her mother had made. “So if I want to know who Phillip Delacroix is, I’ll have to find some other proof. Forget that I’ve seen somebody who looked just like him?”
“That’s right.” Gawain sighed heavily. “I can’t tell you anything else. You’ll have to convince him yourself.” He faced her. “Diana, my friend has been through hell and worse. He’s gone through some shitty experiences that I didn’t, and I’m not sorry to say I’m glad not to have undergone them, because everybody has a breaking point. He’s weighed down by the burden of his past and his destiny, and it haunts him. I know why he’s working for Ares, and I think it’s been good for him. But he still seeks his own doom, and I feel you can help him avoid that. Don’t let him push you away.”
Diana understood. “I won’t give up on him.”

Lex Luthor looked over the list of names that had inexplicably appeared on his desk. Assassins and guns-for-hire, all professionals. Along with a single name circled in red ink at the top, their target. Phillip Delacroix.
He pursed his lips, considering the problem. Which actually wasn’t a problem, but more of a… hindrance. The list was probably a hint from somebody. But who?
Lex shrugged. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that the list made sense. Groups of metahuman and augmented assassins arranged in such a way as to ensure the man’s death, with no way for him to escape. They would cost, but there would be no quality without expenditure. And this particular man was worth every penny to kill. Even if he was just a measly mortal.
Oh yes… Lex thought. Your death shall be one to savor, Phillip Delacroix!
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The Games that Gods Play