Note: The following events happen in the aftermath of the first Wonder Woman movie, ignoring the presence of other super heroes. Lara Croft's adventures so far are from the soft reboot, meaning Tomb Raider 2013, Rise of the Tomb Raider, and Shadow of the Tomb Raider. If you are unfamiliar with any of those works, do not worry. This fanfic contains all the information needed for understanding the context, the characters, and the plot. Thank you for your attention. The curtains opens, the stage is set.

31st August 2017.

23h48

Paris, Louvre.

The Winged Victory of Samothrace laid silent in the underground museum. Massive, majestic, even in her broken and mutilated state. Like many of its sisters, the millennia hadn't been kind on her. It had been found in Greece, broken in a multitude of pieces, each of which had been patiently analysed, restored, and put together. Even without her head and arms, you could feel the winged goddess of victory Nike descending lightly from the sky, her posture triumphant in the wind. It was baffling to imagine the 2,44 meters statue was pure parian marble.

She was the greatest work of art of the Hellenistic period, a priceless work of art showing the skill and mastery of the people of ancient time. Even uprooted from her native shores, even exposed as a witness of time long gone, she stood. Proud. Cared for. A true victory over the inevitable truths of change and decay.

Often Diana contemplated the work of art, alone in the dark, with no witness nor distraction. In her path to become a curator, she came to be intimate with a great number of work of art. Her fascination for human culture had been her main motivation throughout the XXth century. And yet for all the love she had for modernity, the evocation of her native shores always warmed her heart. For if she loved Humanity, she wasn't one of them.

Hovering over the Winged Victory, Diana Prince gazed down in nostalgia. For most of her life her world had been a world of warriors, of Gods and Goddesses, of clear purpose, and purity of ideals. A century ago she had left her island knowing she could never come back. But she was on a sacred mission. She wanted to save Humanity. It was nearly a century ago, and she had learned since the cruel subtleties and greyness of the world of men. From carer of lives, she became carer of culture, of the spirit that governed people. As time had forgotten her contributions, falling in the shadows had been all to easy, and finally here she was. In the presence of the largest collection of art in the world, surrounded by memories of home. A victory of its own, in a world of grey.

But it was enough self reflecting for a Thursday night.

Gracefully landing amidst the silent witnesses, Diana ordered her thoughts. It had been a busy day, well, a busy five months really. Her job had led her to many sleepless nights and unreasonably tight schedules in the past, a necessary evil for the curator of the Antiquity Department, but lately things had been even more crazy. At her behest, the Louvre was opening an exhibition on the representations of Artemis throughout the ages next Wednesday, and Diana had been overworked ever since.

Making her way in the silent museum, passing by rows upon rows of murals, fragments, and statues, she headed for the stairs toward the main entrance. It wasn't the first time work had pushed her far into the night, but the bureaucratic nightmare she had unleashed upon herself was unheard of even for France's standards, whose love for forms in triplicates was second to none. Her assistant Ludovic had worked tirelessly to obtain the documents that had escaped her attention, busy she had been negotiating with the whole damn world and their husbands the gathering in one place of all the pieces of the exposition. Now all that remained was "just a few signatures". They were less than a week away from the event. She wanted to punch someone.

"Another night delivery?" Asked a deep voice in front of her.

Lost in her thought she had made it to the entrance without realizing it. The hall was eerily empty, but the rain outside battered against the glass pyramid above them filling the silence of the place. Standing in the centre of the hall was Ali, the scarred security guard whose long slow stride and scary face never failed to intimidate children. Most nights he would silently roam the museum, armed with only his torch and his uncanny ability never to get lost. The echoes of his implacable walk resonated like a warning to all would be burglar. Legends said he had the warmest smile, but it was a secret he never bothered to share with anyone.

"I hope I'm not bothering you, I didn't know I would have one until hours ago."

"It's no problem", he shrugged while mechanically reaching for his keys. "As long as you respect protocols."

"Ali, have I ever disappointed you?"

"A pretty face and nice clothes does not make character."

"I will have none of that."

Her retort was cold as stone, and as brutal as his quip had been. The security guard was tall and burly, but the curator was even taller, and her finely crafted clothed hid a powerful build, honed by centuries of training. She had found her stature and force of will to be intimidating to men around her, and their reactions were often deplorably predictable.

Ali just grumbled something akin to an apology while looking away, and followed Diana up the stairs to the glass doors. One would think being of divine parentage would ease her life among the humans, but it was not so in the least. She may have been a supreme warrior, her powers meant little in the face of everyday violence, of social pressure, of inequality and injustice. The world was ruled by humans, and even if she conquered the Earth she would not change that. Humans were the only ones able to save themselves.

Ali and Diana were not strangers, but despite her attempt to know him better he always refused to connect. Insecure in his job, he had gone from a respected figure in his family to a lone security guard with few human interactions. She had treated him as an equal, but he seemed stuck in his inferiority complex, surrounded by men and women of higher rank. He wasn't cruel, or sadistic. Just a good man gone bitter. She didn't thought herself superior to him, but she would never accept disrespect. And that was all she could do.

The rain was furious outside, autumn had finally decided to fall after all. Climate change had disrupted the ways of the world profoundly, but people didn't seem to notice, even when the changes became noticeable in their lifetime. Another way for them to self destruct. Usually she would have had to waited on the parvis, but an understanding look between Ali and her was all it took. Thankfully, they didn't had to wait very long, for a young man arrived on a washed out yellow moped. He had for sole uniform an equally yellow and equally old biker set, a damaged helmet, and a perfectly sealed reinforced black box with the "L24" logo of the company.

He hurried under the rain to the doors, and Ali opened for him. Despite his attire covering him from head to toes, the L24 people were always safe. The company itself was specialized in urgent deliveries, but used underpaid students and night owls to make them. Those desperate people worked inhuman hours, but somehow the L24 never seemed to run out of martyr.

"This is the worse night!" He exclaimed as he pranced around completely soaked.

"Sorry for the inconvenience." smiled Diana as she relieved him of his package.

"Do you mind if I hu..."

The youthful boy wanted to sit and rest a little. Ali didn't have the heart to refuse, but adopted his most intimidating posture, probably hoping it would eventually scare the delivery man away. To little effect. The faceless boy fell on a seat no far like a runner at the end of a marathon. It was probably a long night for him too.

Diana wasted little time, sitting in a corner, opening the box herself, and trying to see if it was all that she needed despite the lack of light. Inside were several dossiers, a few letters, and a stack of forms to be processed. All late, of course, but Ludovic had done a marvellous job at getting it all together on such a short notice. The young student had a gift for getting things done, be it in a dig or from door to door, and she would make sure he had his recommendation. Thanks to her own contacts in the administration, she would have them processed before Monday, ensuring the whole exposition would go smoothly.

But as she got up to sign to receipt, she froze. A deathly silence had brutally fallen on the Louvre. In an instant, Diana went from barely able to hear her own thoughts to have her heartbeat rhythm in her ear. She looked around, confused, wary, only to see Ali and the delivery man motionless, unresponsive to her call. And outside, millions upon millions of rain drops were frozen in mid air. Her blood began to warm, her fighting instincts flared after decades of peace. Magic, of the highest order.

Time had stopped for everyone but her.

"Long time no see Diana."

The voice came out of nowhere, reverberating on the glass pyramid, filling the hall, emptier than ever. It was the voice of a man, booming, powerful, pleased. Godly.

"Ares…" she muttered, readying herself for battle.

Her body burned with energy, her hand reached inside her suit to her divine lasso. She didn't carry her sword with her, but she would pummel him to the ground nonetheless, again. How did he survive their last encounter? She didn't know. But he wouldn't survive another.

"...Ares?" The disembodied voice seemed shocked. Then laughed with the disconcerting enthusiasm of a young boy. "Ho no! Please! I'm far, far from Ares..."

The yellow man stood up, leaving the still waters from his clothes behind, like a chrysalis. The divine warrior swung in an instant, unleashing her golden lasso like a furious whip... only for it to stopped in mid air, frozen. Like the rest of the universe. So she lunged at him. A rush was so powerful her right shoe was obliterated against the stone floor as she devoured the distance between them. But just as she was about to connect, her prey vanished in a yellow blur, reappearing well behind her. Diana took flight mid charge, gaining altitude dominating the arena. His speed was surreal!

"By Olympus!," He laughed again. "You Children of Zeus always inherit his temper!"

With expertise, the yellow man took his helmet off, revealing a face of extraordinary beauty. Curled red hair fell on the side of his head, his eyes were powerful, shining in the dim light, brimming with energy. His smile, impish and cocksure. The demigoddess was stunned. Her mind went blank.

"Impossible… Hermes...?"

The God smiled magnificently, opening his arms in a grandiose fashion

"You DO remember me!"

Diana had never met him before. But there was no doubt, as if she could see the divine spark in his soul. As if she was meant to recognize him. Before her was Hermes, ancient god of messenger and merchants, the bond that united the Gods. Gods, who had all been murdered.

And here he was, in the body of a mailman, prancing and dancing of excitement.

"Ho I MISSED this!"

He tapped his feet on the ground like an overjoyed rabbit, and then disappeared in a yellow blur. Only to reappear instantly, standing with one hand on Ali's head. Diana, still overlooking the scene from up high, was confused and in awe. She had been told since birth that the Gods had been betrayed and killed by Ares, the God of War. She, as the last descendant of Zeus, had been birthed in order to overcome that foe, and ever since that victory she had thought herself alone. The last demigoddess, unable to come home.

Confusion subsided soon enough, and in its place a wave of happiness took her over. In one swoop, she intercepted the God of Olympus during a pirouette and embraced him in a powerful hug.

"You are real! You are… You exists! I thought… I didn't know! How are you there? What happened?"-She suddenly stopped. "Is Ares back too?

"Diana..." He squealed, trying a smile through the pain. "I'm a God, but that body is still quite mortal..."

In her excitement, she had snatched him far above the ground like a rag-doll, her powerful arms squeezing him vigorously. With a faint smile she loosen her grip. But still she was overwhelmed by the situation, for that young, red-haired boy was a God too. Remembering the status of the person she was holding, she gently landed with him in the middle of the main hall.

Once on the ground, she took a step backward, letting Hermes massage his visibly sore arms. She attempted to solemnly put a knee down, but he cut her off immediately.

"There's no need for that with me," he said with a crystalline voice, "Not between us. Not alone anyway."

"I have so many questions… I thought you were all dead. My mother told me Ares had destroyed all the Gods of Olympus."

"Hyppoleta! Of course, extraordinary woman. And very accurate, we were indeed all killed. In fact, that's why I'm here."

Their voices were echoing in the empty hall. Diana's mind was racing frenetically. Her life had taken a sudden turn, it was hard to think that an exhibition was her biggest concern mere minutes earlier. It was the first time an Olympian God had walked the Earth in a century, at least one that wasn't moved by genocidal ambitions. With deference she stood to attention and let the God speak.

"First of all," he said while dusting his yellow suit, "I'm very restricted. Zeus only allowed me to deliver my message."

"Of course, I am listening." She said while hiding a shiver down her spine. A message from Zeus?

"Yes… A very important message I insisted to be delivered to you. One that you must absolutely pay attention to, if you don't want any sinister consequences."

For a fraction of a second, Hermes's tone shifted from jovial to sombre. And soon enough, like a comedian, his face radiated happiness again. Hermes was a God of speed and travel, but in Diana's bed time stories, he often was the cunning and mischievous one. Always outsmarting his enemies, even when they were his friends. Behind those curly hair and this youthful appearance was a millennia old being, with powers beyond Diana's imagination.

Hermes extended his arms, as if reaching for invisible ropes. And suddenly, he started a dramatic dance, his movements punctuating his message, as if telling the story with his sole body.

"Killing a god is a hard thing to do," he started, his hands over his eyes. "When Ares killed us, he merely banished our souls in the underworld. We escaped the void... but Hades!" His stance became rigid, regal, almost imperious. "Hades who had sworn neutrality in the conflict, Hades whose rules bends for none, nor mortal, nor friends, nor brother nor sister. Hades whose duty saved the world above from the darkest horrors since time immemorial. Hades, who was spared by Ares, refused us passage back to the living."

Hermes's words were harsh, but Diana noticed a strange sweetness in his eyes. True to the myth, Hades was implacable, but as the god of travel described the scene with an accusatory tone, his dance was non-threatening, almost sad. By some magic she didn't know, Diana could almost feel the burden of the Ruler of the Underworld, unable to help the Gods as if chained by rules greater than all of them.

Hermes's stance broke, and he was now dancing menacingly as his words recounted the death of Ares.

"When the traitor god died by your hand," he continued "His soul joined the Countlesses in the world below. Hades judged him justly. His victims were even harsher."

He then proceeded to extend his arms one more, in a final, triumphant pose. His skin even gradually began to shine like the sun as his voice rose into a shout.

"With the Earth now free of the evil influence of the traitor, Zeus has decided to lead the Gods back to their former glory. A plan is in motion to resurrect us all Diana! Not merely possessing the rare faithfuls, but true resurrection. The return of Olympus!"

The declaration boomed across the Louvre like a declaration of victory over fate. If the world hadn't been asleep, it would have overwhelmed all throughout the gigantic museum. It felt as if the mere fact of pronouncing the words were going to make it true, as if Olympus itself was about to enter the Louvre. But nothing happened. And soon the voice died, as Hermes allowed an uneasy silence to linger after it. The clamour had been shouted, and yet Hermes wasn't done yet.

"And you have a role" he finally said, his postures suddenly relaxed. Minuscule compared to the power of his previous statement. Instead of dancing, he merely invited her to follow him as he climbed back the stairs toward the main entrance.

"As warrior-born, you will be our agent in this world, and make sure no threat may endanger our return. Neither magic, nor tool, nor fire, nor man, nor woman must present a single risk to the Gods. By Zeus's decree, and by my council, so is your duty."

He stopped in the middle of the stairs, his back at the towering daughter of Zeus. And suddenly turned around and winked impishly.

"End of message."

They slowly continued their ascension. Her mind firmly anchored in order not to be blown away by the announcement, the demigoddess felt…. Alive. Bursting of joy. She was now looking around at the museum and it looked… so small and meaningless. A mission from the Gods themselves made everything else seems like a distraction, and she couldn't wait to start her new mission.

And yet she couldn't shake the feeling that Hermes had delivered two messages instead of one. In the stories, he was a cunning God, always scheming behind everyone's back, too smart for his own good. But never in evil, always in compassion. So what was this feeling? After all, just before delivering the orders of Olympus, he had strangely insisted on her being attentive, or risk sinister consequences.

Hermes arrived before the entrance first, and squealed a little laugh. With one powerful step, he jumped like a gymnast from the stairs to the entrance, doing more somersault than humanly possible, and landing perfectly straight right besides the L24 box.

"What do you think?" He smiled, while taking the dossiers in the box and juggling with it. "Do you think I could get in the Olympics?"

"You are the strangest God I have ever met"

Their laughter lightened the mood. The atmosphere had gone inexplicably heavy, and Diana was beginning to welcome Hermes's lack of gravitas. But she was still bugged by strange thoughts.

"If I may ask… you said you insisted that this message should be delivered to me. Why?"

The face of the Messenger God lit up, literally. With one expert move, his foot propelled the whole box in the air, and he began to juggle with it too. The curator had a little moment of panic, her thoughts turning to Ludovic and all the work he had accomplished to get all those papers in time. For an instant she couldn't tell which was more important, the dossiers or a God's joy. And it troubled her.

"Since you ask about that," He slowly said, putting weight on every word. "I guess I can tell you."

His attention seemingly entirely focused on the volleys of objects in the air, he started to talk with a carefree tone.

"It reminds me of the day I died. Ares had stricken me with a cursed arrow who drew nearer to my heart for each step I took. I stayed immobile for the whole battle, waiting for the victory. And I saw him slay everyone, before being wounded by a dying Zeus. I was alone, and I had but two steps left to live. And so… I used all the powers I had and I leaped like only a God can!"

The contrast between his buffooneries and his discourse was striking, but Diana listened in silence. Hermes dexterously led all the dossiers and letters into the box in mid air and let it fall back exactly where it was before he took it. With a clownesque bow, he thanked his unique assistance and continued.

"I leaped all across the world in a single bound and I looked down on Earth, on the humans. I saw their actions, their cities, their mistakes but also the proof of their greatness. In the grounds of the field, in the waters of their irrigation, in the tenderness of their temples, in the cleverness of their architecture. I leaped across the globe, the sun always in my back. But I was sad in my heart. Not because I was going to die, ho no, I was at peace with that. Can you guess why I was sad?"

Diana, who was retrieving her lasso still frozen in the air, didn't wonder for long. Hermes, more than any other God of Olympus, loved the humans. As the God sat down on the chair where the yellow man had first sat before the conversation, she answered without a hint of doubt.

"Ares. You were worried for humanity."

"Exactly!"

He laughed one last time, letting it linger for as long as he could. Then he put the damaged helmet back, hiding his godly beauty.

"As I glided across the world I love so much, I had a terrible thought. What would happen to humanity under the dominion of a… temperamental God."

A thunderous roar suddenly exploded outside. Startled, Diana looked away from Hermes, and saw the rain falling in an unbearable din.

"Hey miss what happened to your shoe?"

The yellow man's voice was strangely human. Hermes was gone, leaving her with his cryptic message. Switching back from demigoddess to curator, she merely shrugged.

"It was old, don't worry."

It had been smashed irreparably, but her divine encounter had made it, and everything else, irrelevant. She took a deep breath, as if to let the proper flow of the world wash away the incredible experience she had just had. She could still feel the warmth of the divine spark. Ali was looking a bit worried about her, his keen eye had probably noticed a change in attitude. Little did he know that not long ago, a God of Olympus danced on his head.

"Damn my back!" Complained the mailman. "I feel like I've fallen from stairs. Night shift doesn't suit me."

"Well you saved me tonight sir." Answered Diana, between shame and amusement. "Your delivery was… very important."

"Well… wow. No problem miss Prince, it's a pleasure."

She drew a pen and he mechanically drew the receipt out of his pocket. Hermes had mentioned that he could only possess him because he was one of the faithful. She smile at the thought of a young man offering tribute to a dead god. Even in this disenchanted world, anything was possible.

"Hey what the… Ho man!" Exclaimed the mail man, suddenly getting up.

Ali uncrossed his arms, ready to jump at the first sign of trouble, but the man in yellow merely turned around, opened the visor of his helmet, and began to search the inside of it frenetically. Expertly hiding his face, he took something out, closed back his visor, and turned around with another letter in his hand.

"I'm so sorry miss, I don't know how I didn't notice it! It's a letter from the box, I must have let it slip in my helmet somehow."

The delivery man's posture had comically crumbled under the weight of shame, prompting a sigh of annoyance from Ali, ever severe. Diana reassured the young man with a hand on his shoulder, but he seemed inconsolable. Deciding he needed to leave immediately, he apologized again before storming out under the rain with the empty box and the receipt. His outdated moped blared and sputtered outside, and soon he disappeared into the night.

Ali silently closed the door and then politely offered to throw away the rest of her shoe still lying on the ground. But the curator just thanked him, took everything, and headed back to her office.

Her way back was long and silent, her bare feet making no noise under the gaze of the art on the walls. She allowed herself to think back to her divine encounter, and what it meant. The Gods were dead, but they could return. They even were on their way, only worried that someone or something on this side would hinder them. She had a mission again. And it felt good.

But Hermes had also delivered a warning, a sombre omen hidden in his act. Things were not clear, and as she had learned a century ago, nothing had ever been black and white in this world.

As she entered her office and threw everything on her desk, she realized that the instructions themselves had been scarce in detail. Her mission was clear, neither magic, nor tool, nor fire, nor man, nor woman must present a single risk to the Gods. She wanted to start making plans on how to accomplish that, to take action once again, to feel the righteousness of a good cause. But on the other end, the more she thought about it, the more curious she grew. Sitting here, alone in her office, the questions kept piling up. When will the Gods return? How? Where?

Her hand absent-mindedly took the letter the yellow man had "found" in his helmet. No doubt Hermes had intentionally put it there, perhaps as a joke, perhaps as her first clue.

It was nothing important or urgent, Ludovic had told her that since he was already gathering papers, he would also take her mail at the same time. Diana already knew its content, it was an official confirmation of rent, private collectors had to sent them to feed the ever starving French administration. It would simply go into the archive somewhere, never to see the light of day.

But perhaps there was more than met the eye. After all, Hermes had sprinkled warning and doubts, finally to deliver this letter to her in the most obvious fashion. It had to be important.

Pushing the rest aside, Diana put the letter flat on her desk.

On the back was written the identity of the sender.

The Right Honourable

The Marchioness of Guildford

Lara Croft.