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Fanfiction 'Golden Age' Dyna

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Dyna the Dynamic Damsel: Origin

A fan fiction by Jack Maddington

Based on the original character "Dyna the Damsel Dynamo" created by David C. Matthews

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Steel City was once a small town built around three massive industries due to the need for tanks, guns, and steel for the war effort against the Axis.  In a few short years, the town became a city, with growing skyscrapers and beautiful architecture.  It was soon made a landing point on the Zeppelin Lines connecting to Boston, Chicago, and New York City.  The citizens of Steel City were a proud people, friendly to their neighbors, always willing to lend a hand, pure American.

The year was 1946, and World War II was not yet truly over.  A young German officer killed Hitler over the madman's Final Solution, and the German army retreated to its borders.  A shaky truce was laid down as the German government agreed to hand over Nazi party officials and sympathizers and an armistice was approached.  The battle in the Pacific became a stand-off, as both military powers were exhausted from the prolonged battles.

The atom bomb project being worked on by the United States never showed any results.  Nuclear weapons and power were abandoned as a flight of fancy.

Even with military units still deployed in Europe and the Pacific, America believed that finally they would  know peace.

They were wrong...

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Deanna Sloane grumbled as she staggered under the weight of the advanced physics tomes that covered application and theory.  She herself, a sponge for any sort of knowledge, had thumbed through the same books in the past, but never knew that all six of them would weigh a metric ton.  Her slim arms shook in protest under the burden as her legs struggled to keep moving forward.  She snarled to herself that she had to stop wearing heels.

For the past three years, Deanna worked as the assistant librarian in the Steel City Municipal Library.  Built in 1939, the four story library was solid stone and marble on the outside, and well adorned wooden fixtures and solid oak furniture on the inside.  A rich and very eccentric man, Mr. James Hobart, had the library built according to his last will and testament.  In life, Hobart was a scoundrel but a very lucky businessman.  He owned the steel mill and mines that gave the city its namesake, and had partial ownership in a number of mines through out the States.  Yet, when he died, he gave his sizeable portion to the city itself, building a number of the cities skyscrapers along with the library as the war effort was raging.

Deanna fell in love with the library the first day she walked through its doors seven years ago on a school field trip.  The huge foyer with the marble dais, the endless stacks of books from all corners of the world, and the way the place seemed to call to her, that no matter how many books she read there would always be more.  After graduating from George Washington High, Deanna worked in one of the factories helping to build aircraft during the day, while at night she studied at Steel City Community College.  When the war effort died down, she had a degree in Library Sciences, and was hired by Mr. Theodore Hendricks, head librarian.

While her life wasn't adventurous or filled with romance like she wanted, Deanna was doing what she loved, just not at the moment.

"Stupid Tesla fans," Deanna grumbled as she finally got the books back into the science section from the general reading area on that floor and carefully set them down.  Ever since Tesla's theories on electricity became solid fact, every would-be scientist was hot to follow his coattails.  Deanna read the man's latest book, Lightning and Thunder: Harnessing Nature for Mankind, and found it quite fascinating, but science was only one of her many interests.  Hefting the first book up, Deanna began the long process of putting them back.  Of course, she discovered that the section was once again out of order and spent the next hour getting the books back in place.

"Always the perfectionist," came the clipped British accent from down the row.

"Well, someone has to keep this place in order," Deanna said with a little laugh, not taking her eyes off her task.  "The guy who runs it is just plain sloppy in my opinion."

Mr. Hendricks chuckled as he watched his beautiful assistant finish her work.  Dressed smartly in a long sleeve blue blouse and a long black skirt, Deanna was out of place in his mind in his beloved library.  She belonged on the arm of some young war hero with a bright future, dancing in one of the grand ballrooms of New York.  She would be perfect on stage, charming an audience with her beauty... or working as a doctor, or scientist with her astounding intellect.  Yet, she chose work here alongside him.  Deanna was a slim beauty, standing at just 5'4'', with flowing blonde hair and enchanting blue eyes. She had delicate features, like a storybook princess, and a charming wit like a Hollywood  heroine.

"Well, Miss Sloane," Hendricks said as he walked closer, tapping his cane along with each step, "thankfully the proprietor of this noble and regal establishment cares not what you think."

Deanna laughed and looked up at her boss, knowing that he too was joking around.  Theodore Hendricks was barely Deanna's height yet had a nice paunch pressing to his waistband.  He always wore a three piece suit and always walked with a smart looking cane thanks to a leg injury when he played football back in Manchester.  The top of his head was a perfectly bald pate, but thick grey hair ringed the sides and back.  Mr. Hendricks had been a jovial, intelligent, gentleman the entire time Deanna had known him, when he first caught her trying to stay in the stacks over night back when the library still opened.

"He'd better appreciate how I keep picking up after the would-be geniuses from Steel City University," she said, coming back to her feet with her hands on her hips.

"Of course I do, my dear,"  Hendricks replied, giving her a soft smile.  "So much so that I need your impeccable skills down in the Rare Books room."

The revelation actually took Deanna a bit aback for a moment.  The Rare Books room was located in the basement of the library and could only be reached by a spiral staircase carved into the foundation.  The only times in her love affair with the library that she had been down there was with Mr. Hendricks by her side.  Down in that chamber, the books rested on small wooden shelves or behind glass cases.  The door to enter was solid oak with brass adornments and Mr. Hendricks kept the key to that door on him at all times.

"Are you playing with me?" Deanna asked, raising one eyebrow.

"No, my dear, I assure you I am not," Hendricks laughed, taking the key from his vest pocket and unhooking the chair.  He slowly placed the key into Deanna's hand and patted her knuckles gently.  "I am afraid the ol' leg just will not allow me the walk down those stairs to do the weekly cleaning.  Please, hop down there and tidy up for me will you.  And I will not say a word if you happen to page through one of the books while you are at it."

Deanna could not help herself.  She knew that Mr. Hendricks was basically giving her a very big gift with this duty.  She leaned forward and kissed the man's cheek before she could help herself, gripping the key in both hands as if it could disappear.  Immediately, the older librarian blushed and  could not help but laugh again.

"Thank you, Mr. Hendricks!" Deanna gasped.  "Sorry about the kiss."

"As long as no one tells Mrs. Hendricks, I shall overlook it," the head librarian laughed.  "Now off with you.  I expect you back at the main desk before closing.  I am not paying you to waste time, after all."

Deanna thanked her employer once again then rushed off to the main desk to retrieve the cleaning supplies, then made her way down the winding stairs.  She had no idea what she was getting into; neither did the man who sent her to her fate.

It was the hardest thing in the world for Deanna Sloane not to pick up any of the books around here and simply lose herself.  Yet, she continued in cleaning the dust off the small bookshelves and wiped down the wood with nice oil soap.  Next came the cases and by the time she was done, not one speck of dust or thumbprint remained on the glass surfaces.  Original manuscripts whispered to her while she worked, and an original copy of the works of Edgar Alan Poe was especially tempting.  Still, the industrious young woman finished her work.

She did not find the manual labor demeaning or beneath her in anyway.  After all, Mr. Hendricks did such work himself as well, and Deanna's other duties involved balancing the books, coming up with and running various fund raising ventures, and finding new sources of books for the ever growing stacks.  Mr. Hendricks' philosophy was if you wanted to run a library, you had to get your hands dirty.  The more you cared for it, the more you cared about it.  Deanna adopted that philosophy as truth long ago.  Taking the duster and giving one glass case a final brush over, Deanna smiled brightly.

Now, what book to choose from.  Deanna did not trust herself to read through more than one or time would simply pass away and she would force Mr. Hendricks to make the walk down here to retrieve her.  She was looking over what might be one of the original copies of Huckleberry Finn, when she heard a heavy slam echo from behind her.  Jumping a few inches in the air, Deanna let out a small scream before spinning around, one hand on her rapidly beating heart.

Laying on the ground in the aisle she was still in, Deanna saw a heavy book she had never seen before.  It was easily a foot in both length and height, and more than a few inches thick.  As she approached it, she noticed the faded golden corners and a seal lock that held the pages inside.  Kneeling down,  Deanna marveled that she had never seen this book before, and studied the intricate seal that locked the tome.
A faded image of an owl perched on the blade of a sword could barely be made out, and the symbol gnawed at her mind.  What did it really mean?  Gently, she brushed her fingers across it in the hopes that dust covered it and removing it would give her a better picture to study.

The second her fingers touched the tome, the latch flew open with such force that the metal impact on the concrete echoed through the chamber.  Deanna pulled away with a start, but she didn't leave her spot over the book.  Slowly she leaned back over it and reached to touch the barren lip of the cover.  Oddly enough, the thick leather felt warm as if the book had been left out in the afternoon sun instead of left in a dark basement room.  Curiosity once again got the best of common sense, and Deanna Slone slowly opened the ancient book.

Golden light poured out of the book and filled the room instantly.  When the light vanished, both the mysterious book and the curious librarian were gone.

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At his desk, Mt. Hendricks checked the faded silver pocket-watch and gave a small smile.  Giving Deanna the opportunity to further quench her curious mind was nothing really, but he knew that his lovely and very skilled assistant more that deserved a chance to study such rare books.  He also trusted her completely to be careful and also not to spend too much time in the library's secret treasure trove.  Looking at the timepiece, Hendricks smiled a bit wider and decided he could afford to give Deanna a hour more on her lunch hour in case she did not return her other tasks as scheduled.  Closing his pocket-watch, the librarian again marveled at how foolish young men could be.  A woman like Deanna was rare indeed, but her independence and intelligence pushed most men away who were seeking a housewife more than an equal.

BOOM!

Reflexively ducking as the clap of thunder exploded over the library, Mr. Hendricks heard the collective gasps from the few patrons still mingling around the wide open foyer.  He heard a few of the patrons earlier in the morning speak of the thunderstorm moving in, then echoes of thunder as the day progressed.  Now, the storm was right over the city with only light rain and winds, but apparently it was putting on heck of a lightning show and the thunder was shaking the windows of the library.  However, the library was one of the most sturdy and safe buildings in Steel City.  The storm didn't bother Hendricks that much, like the others in the library, and just like everyone else in the city, he paid the thunderstorm no real mind.  Most of the citizens of Steel City looked up at the boiling grey clouds that covered the sky above them with nothing more than curiosity or annoyance.  After all, it was only a storm and everyone had seen worse.

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Light filled Deanna Sloane's world, golden and pure.  She felt as if she were floating in the most beautiful warmth, and the light seemed to permeate her skin.  Fear, worry, curiosity, confusion, none of those emotions could find a hold on her mind in such pure beauty.  Just as Deanne felt her mind fully giving in to the experience, the light began to fade and she felt herself settling downward.  Deanna suddenly took in a deep, refreshing breath and realized she was not breathing in that field of light.

The assistant librarian found herself on her knees in a moderate sized chamber whose only light did not come in the form of the rapture she just left.  Four stone pillars offered were perfectly placed around the center of the room, and on each side facing out to the corners of the chamber were black iron torches burning with natural, normal looking flames.  Their light revealed a room made from carved and stacked sandstone stones, each roughly the same sized and shape.  While the construction of the chamber wanted to draw Deanna's curious eyes, it was the fixtures around the room that held her attention.

Along the wall to her left, was a tall, wooden shelving unit that ran the length of the wall.  It was divided into a series of cubbyholes, and each one was packed what seemed to be number of wrapped scrolls.  More scrolls and some books lined the top of the shelves, and more were piled in the corners against the sides of the shelves.  More scrolls and tomes were filed in other smaller units along the rest of the walls, but they were mixed with marble tables.  On the tables were no books, but items that seemed the opposite of the knowledge around here.  One held three shields, each dented and torn from battle, and all more ancient than she could believe.  Her eyes placed them as Greek in origin from a few archaeology books she had read.  Other tables held swords, spears, bows, and one alone held a single bronze helm.

The table where the helm rested was next to a throne of marble where a thick swatch of purple was laid over, rimmed with some manner of fur.  The throne was not at all ostentatious or lined with any royal adornments, but it still conveyed an regal air and commanded her attention even in a room filled with books and ancient scrolls that should have driven her crazy with where to start first.  Slowly, her eyes traveled to a metal emblem that hung above the throne and they widened with realization.  The emblem was a large owl with intense eyes and thick claws, perched on the blade of a Greek sword.  The very same symbol she touched on the lock of the old book.

"Welcome, Deanna of Steel City."  The voice startled Deanna so much she nearly cried out, but was able to keep her wits about her.  Her eyes dropped down to the throne and saw the source.

She sat back in the throne with a soft smile on her face and kindness in deep brown eyes.  The woman was dressed simply in a white toga with a broach on her shoulder the same symbol as the sigil above her.  A thin, bronze helm  covered her head, but was open enough for Deanna to see the strong, Mediterranean features underneath.  Her skin was a healthy tan, and her body was built unlike any woman's she had seen.  Her bare arms, neck, and shoulder were lined with lean, extremely well developed muscles.  She had biceps that belonged on a man more than a woman, yet her beauty could not be denied.  Thick, black hair fell from the top of the helm and back in a mane that spilled well past her shoulders.  As their eyes met, Deanna felt her fright quickly melt away.

"I am sorry to have summoned you so abruptly," the woman began, speaking English but in an accent Deanna could not place.  "But time is not on our side.  I am Athena, Olympian Goddess of Wisdom.  Your world is in grave danger."

It all came in a rush, but Deanna did not lose control of herself.  She blinked a the woman's appearance, her admission of her identity, and then her warning.  To her credit, Deanna only took a step back and slowly looked around the room.  Her logic, the one thing she could always trust, kept her from believing this was some mental break down.  People did not suddenly mentally snap without some manner of outside factor or pressure.  While mythology fascinated her, it was only one in a number of fields she studied.  It could not suddenly occupy her mind with such strength that she would hallucinate this scenario.  Clearing her throat, Deanna managed to keep on her feet and look back to the ...goddess.

"While what you say is highly...unlikely," Deanna managed, adjusting her posture a little to appear more confident, "I am willing to hear more."

Athena felt her smile widen and the relief on he heart was great.  Slowly, she stood up from the throne and walked over to Deanna, but did not draw too close.  She towered over the woman by almost half a body length, and did not want to intimidate her.  Hopefully, Athena would not be able to physically intimidate this woman at all if everything went well.  The goddess looked into Deanna's eyes and commanded her attention with just a look.

"The world of myth and what you believe to be the real world are one in the same.  There is as much truth in what you call 'mythology' as there is in your books of physics or applied mathematics.  Long ago, a war was fought between the gods of the world as our time of dominance came to an end.  The Age of Humanity was dawning, and we were judged to fail in our guidance of your race.  The gods then warred with each other.  The devastation was so great that all beings of magic and wonder retreated in the shadows between worlds.  Few beings, beasts and monsters most, still lingered among your people, but the gods were either destroyed, imprisoned, or stepped into exile.

"A few years ago, a madman began stockpiling items of dark magic in the hopes of harnessing their powers to conquer the world.  He believed he found the ultimate in artifacts when a spear was brought to him from an expedition.  With it, he believed he would dominate the world, invincible and untouchable.  Adolph Hitler believed he found the Spear of Longinus."

The mention of Hitler's name brought anger and shock into Deanna's heart as it would for any American.  Thankfully, the Germans killed the bastard before his "Final Solution" could be fully enacted, but so many already died from his twisted dreams.  For most, the name of the spear would mean nothing, but to Deanna it meant a great deal.  She read all manner of books about myths and fables as well as science, and her memory brought the name to the forefront of her mind quickly.

"The spear believed to have stabbed Jesus while he was on the cross," she whispered as Athena slowly nodded.

"An artifact of immense power indeed," the goddess continued.  "But it was not the Spear of Longinus Hitler found.  It was the weapon that my brother Ares, the God of War, had been imprisoned in.  I fear that Ares has been released from his prison, but I know that an attack is about to be launched against your city and a few others that belong to the Allies.  My brother lives for war, and wishes to ignite one that will consume the world."

Deanna wanted to shake his head and demand that something this foolish, so absurd, could not be happening.  Her mind tried to rage against Athena's words and the goddess very existence, but something inside of Deanna would not allow it.  The goddess was speaking the truth and Deanna felt that, knew that, in the deepest corner of her heart.  A thousand questions burned in her mind, but they fled like flies a deeper realization came to Deanna Sloane's mind.  She alone was brought to his place to speak to a Greek goddess when the city was in need.

"What do you want me for, then?" Deanna asked, looking into her eyes, feeling anticipation building inside of her.

When she went into the park on her lunch break, or on the weekends, Deanna would sometimes overhear two young men who were veterans of the War.  Mostly their conversations were about women, the Steel City Hammers baseball team, and where to get a good pizza.  However, she vividly recalled them speaking only once about the War, and she happened to be within earshot.  One of them spoke of destiny, that sometimes you were placed a in horrible position, asked to do things that were impossible, because you were the only one would could see it through.  Deanna Sloane never thought much about destiny, but now she felt it was literally staring her right in the face.

"While I cannot, will not, leave my current home, I can extend my powers out to the mortal world.  That is how I brought you here, Deanna.  I will endow you with the power to defeat Ares and his minions.  They have set their sights on Steel City, but for what purpose I do not know.  You and you alone, Deanna, have the perfect combination to be able to receive my gift.  Your intelligence, determination, and spirit all burn with the endless fire that once only my high-priestesses could claim.  It is still your choice, Deanna Sloane.  Will you become a champion?"

The words echoed through Deanna's entire being as her eyes saw nothing but Athena's and her ears drank in the slightest tone in her words. Could she do this?  Could this even be real?  Her logic, the thing she prided herself on the most, said that all of this was impossible, but everything else inside of Deanna Sloane said it was absolutely true.  She was being asked to defend her city against the wrath of a god, to defend her country against enemies the likes of which the world had forgotten long ago.  Part of her wanted to say no, but she thought of the men in the park and what they volunteered to do, what was asked of every able bodied American man.  They stormed the beaches of Normandy, they marched across the deserts of Northern Africa, and they sacrificed everything so the world could be free of terror.  Deanna remembered working in the factories, driving bolts in place on fighter plans, fixing machine guns in place, and making sure every plane she worked on was absolutely perfect.  The work made her tougher, but also gave her a sense of pride in being an American.  Like the other factory workers, she wondered what it would be like to fight the enemy instead of just build the tools their boys needed.

Now, she was being given that chance.

Now, Deanna Sloan was being asked to be a hero.

"Yes, I will," Deanna said to Athena, feeling herself stand a light straighter and held her head a little higher.  "I will be your champion."

The gasp of relief came from the goddess so unexpected that Deanna felt her resolve tremble a little, but it never wavered.  Athena's smile grew even wider as she placed her hands on Deanna's shoulders, gripping gently.  The human could not know how pleased Athena was of her acceptance of this quest.  Her powers were immense, yet limited, and this was her only chance to choose a champion and then have that one person make the right choice in accepting this gift and this burden.  Now, the world of the mortals had a fighting chance.

"Thank you, Deanna Sloane," the goddess laughed softly as she stepped back and brought her hands to waist level.  "Now, receive the blessing of Athena.  I give to you the Girdle of Might."

Deanna watched with amazed eyes as the goddess stretched her hands outward toward her sides.  Brilliant golden light filled the space her hands passed, with white lines of mist seeming to play and wrap around it.  When her hands reached her sides, Athena closed them into fists and the light only grew brighter.  The fists clinched down and the light suddenly exploded bright enough to make Deanna flinch.  When her eyes adjusted, Athena held a belt in her hands that seemed to made of thin flexible bronze with a bronze disc center that was lined with black glyphs and an even more ancient form of the sigil of Athena in the middle.  The symbol seemed made of several separate symbols, and looked more ominous than the previous ones she had seen.

"Once, I crafted a belt such as this for Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons," Athena said, her voice a little softer as the process of bring forth the Girdle exhausted her more than just a little.  "Unfortunately, she chose the gift of Ares over my own.  This belt will grant you strength the likes of which will rival Heracles himself.  Unlike him, your strength will not come from your fury, but from your very mind.  Your will and your mind will allow you to harness the power of the Girdle so you will bend steel like cloth, shatter stone, and will become a living weapon yourself."

Deanna gently took the belt from Athena's hands and grunted under the sheer weight of it.  The bands of the belt were thick but amazingly thin, and it reminded her of the belts the wrestlers wore down at the coliseum.  When her hands felt the weight of the belt and the touch of metal against her hands, Deanna took a deep breath as she felt her destiny was now literally in the palms of her hands.

"This artifact also carries with it the Wings of the Owl, which has served as one of my symbols since my beginning.  You will not be bound to the ground, but will soar through the sky as easily as Hermes, but not as fast."

"I will fly?" Deanna asked with utter surprise.

"Yes," Athena answered, giving a soft smile as she walked around Deanna.  Slowly, they placed the Girdle of Might around Deanna's hips, over her white blouse and skirt, and the ends of the belt seemed to melt together, perfectly fitting around Deanna's midsection.  Athena took a few steps back and could not deny the pride building inside of her heart.

"Now, place your hand on the sigil."

Deanna did as she was told, reaching her right hand up and placed her palm over the symbol of Athena.  The effect was instant.  Her hand flexed so hard that her fingers stretched out toward the glyphs.  Power, raw and unyielding suddenly flowed into her body from the belt to the core of her being.  Instead of being painful, Deanna felt a perfection to the sensation, as if she were born to hold this power and just now felt complete.  She threw her head back and gasped, as her arms shot outward to her sides.  The golden light that drew her to his place erupted around her body and her teeth suddenly gritted together.  The power suddenly swelled against her body, as if had no desire to leave no matter how much poured into her.  Her eyes widened up toward the ceiling when she felt her body begin to change.

Deanna felt her body flexing, all the muscles at once, then rolling across her body.  It was her legs that changed first.  Still held in the same body position by the power influx, Deanna was able to look down over her body at her encompassing skirt.  She could see the muscles, but felt them swelling and growing with amazing speed.  The bones and muscle were growing together as she felt her shoes suddenly tear apart when her feet became too big, and her weight came downward and crushed the remnants under foot. Her ears heard her stockings split as her expanding muscles felt the stockings, a rare commodity still, shred off of her completely.

The change rolled upward as Deanna groaned, feeling her backside swell and shift to match the changes to her legs.  The stomach grew firmer as the core of her body began to expand, and muscles Deanna never knew she had began to expand in perfect definition.  Her white blouse seemed to expand outward like a balloon was growing underneath it with no signs of stopping.  Buttons exploded across the room as her muscles tore through the fabric.  She looked down as her shoulders belonged on a wrestler or an Olympian, her stomach had more muscles than she thought possible, and her skirt was going from very loose to very tight.

From her now immense shoulders, Deanna felt and even watched the power flow into her arms.  Her skin rippled in waves as her biceps flexed then swelled to impossible size.  They were carved from molten steel, and veins dotted the sides and the elbow.  Her forearms and hands changed as well, the muscles and bones altering to be able to withstand any blow her arms might deliver.  Deanna gasped at the sheer size of herself, even when her thigh muscles tore the sides of her skirt open.  She could not believe her eyes!

The final part of her transformation she also could not believe.  Her chest muscles were already slabs of marble, but then her breasts responded to the flow of energy still pulsing through her.  Her eyes fully bugged out of their sockets as she groaned under the strain from her breasts beginning to press against the lacey prison of her bra.  With a yelp, she watched her nicely sized, but not large chest, suddenly swell and snap the bra completely open.  Her breasts were perfectly round and firm beyond belief as they finally stopped at a cup size Deanna didn't know if the alphabet covered, even with three chances.

The glow finally disappeared and Deanna quickly covered her chest with her hands, and spun around to look at Athena in utter confusion.  While the new frame and size of her body was beyond impressive, her sudden and unreal endowment was a bit more confusing.

Athena looked as if she were about to say something, but then startled when Deanna turned around.  She blinked at the large breasts the woman was trying her best to cover, and was failing at almost completely.

"Oh!" the goddess said in her surprise. "I ...did not know that would happen."  Before Deanna could say anything, Athena stretched her hand toward her and her fingers danced with the golden light.  Immediately, the ruins of Deanna's clothes all turned into gold light.  Athena hand moved as if conducting a concert, and the light shifted and wrapped around Deanna's form.  It pulled down to a pool of light around each foot and lower leg leaving her now unbelievably long and muscled legs completely bare.  The light flowed over her torso completely, high on her hips, and leaving a plunging neckline.  Two smaller circles of light covered her wrists.  Athena nodded her head and snapped her fingers, the golden light disappearing, revealing the clothing underneath.

A white singlet covered Deanna's torso and clung to her like second skin, resembling a bathing suit, but much more form fitting.  It also left her neck bare and gave anyone looking a nice view of some beyond impressive cleavage.  At her wrists were two solid bronze bracers; matching boots covered her feet up to her lower shin.  Deanna also found that her blonde hair was now flowing well past her shoulders and was thicker than ever before.  Looking down at herself, Deanna could not help but smile.  Never before had she seen a woman like this before, but it was obvious she was still very much a woman despite the massive and well defined muscles.  She flexed each arm, watching the biceps grow into impossible boulders, then looked back over her shoulder.  She was lightly curved before, but now she was something else.  She slapped her hand back on one cheek and felt nothing but firm muscle.

"Amazing," she said with a small laugh as Athena could only nod.

"That is not all, Deanna," she said, walking around Deanna, marveling at how well the woman took to the power.  "The center of the Girdle is also a dial.  Should you ever find you need more strength, and unfortunately I am sure you will, you can press your hand to the dial and turn it toward your right to increase your strength and size.  But be warned!  You can stay in this form as long as you like, but then more you increase the power, the less your body will be able to handle it.  There will be pain, and if it becomes too much before you power yourself back down, you will be forced to return to your normal form.  The process will be painful and it is possible you will lose consciousness.  So, only use it when you must."

Deanna listened to the goddess' warning, but wondered why on earth she would need even more power.  She felt herself understand the limits of her strength the more she held the power inside of her.  She knew without experience she could tear armor off of a tank, take a tank round without dying, and possibly lift a trailer over her head while she flew.  Flew!!  She can fly and she knows how now with just thinking about it.  The smile on her face was wide even as she nodded to the goddess' words, but it disappeared when Athena winced, suddenly touching the side of her helmet.

"No..." Athena whispered as she tilted her head to the side.  "You must return now, Deanna.  Ares is making is move.  Remember, you can do this. This is your destiny!"

Deanna was about to ask question what exactly was going on, but she knew better by the pained look on the goddess' face and the urgency in her words.  Putting her fists to her hips, Deanna nods quickly.  She takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, feeling her arms flex again as she grips her fists a bit tighter.  Whether she was ready or not was immaterial.  Something horrible was about to happen to Steel City, and the people of her hometown needed a hero.  That hero was now going to come in the form of one powerfully built Amazon, flying through the sky.  Normally, a girl like Deanna would be the damsel in distress if this was Flash Gordon serial.  Well, this damsel was a pure dynamo.

"Send me back.  I'm ready."

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The storm rolled over Steel City without anyone thinking it anything more than mother nature about to release a little tension.  The farmers in the county around the industrial center were looking forward to long, driving rains.  Cabbies would be glad for the pick up in fares for the gents who wanted to keep their sharp suits dry and the dames who didn't want to ruin their hair.  When the lightning cracked and the thunder boomed, people thought it nothing more than another storm.

Eddie Styles hated driving a taxi.  He wasn't a very good driver, his knowledge of the city started and stopped at his old neighborhood, and he didn't care for people at all.  It was the only work he could get.  He had no other skills, was horrible at learning, and his lack of people skills made job interviews hard to land.  Thankfully, his cousin Rico owned a hack company.  Eddie was lamenting his chosen profession as he drove down Main Street when the thunder boomed over heard, shaking his cab.  "Great. Even God doesn't like me," he muttered to himself, slowing his cab to halt before a red light.

The impact was so powerful and so fast that Eddie was crushed in the blink of an eye.  The cab he hated so much became his tomb, melded with the flesh and bone of his body.  The street cracked under the ruin of the cab as the towering metallic shape that squashed it with its landing began to rise from its crouched position.  A veil of clouds that clung to its body began to thin, and the two-story-tall metallic man took its first steps on the streets of Steel City.

Cars slammed to a halt, people screamed, and panic set in.  The machine moved on large treaded feet with thick round joints at the knees and elbows.  Its waist was molded to the torso, with the head stunted like an inverted can, protected by raised shoulder units.  The only feature on its face was a slit like visor that crackled with the silver-white light of electricity.  Its hands were simply two pronged claws, with large armor plating over the forearms.  It looked like it walked right of the screen of the local Cinema, after passing through a scientist's nightmare.  As people ran for cover, some simply gawking in horror and awe, the machine's head turned slowly as if scanning the street.  It stopped when it faced a single police car that was just slamming on its brakes.

The machine's shoulder guards snapped open and twin gun ports extended at each shoulder.  Heavy caliber machine guns opened up the second the barrels were clear.  First the police cruiser rocked from the heavy impacts, then it simply exploded.  The officer never had a chance to unbuckle his seat belt.  Leaving the ports open, the robot turned and started walking down Main Street.  Its heavy stride was almost drowned out by the roar of its machine guns and the screams of the dying.

Three other robots made their landings at various points in the city and began their march toward the industrial center.

------------

Sgt. James Monroe survived more than one tight scrape in his thirty five years of life.  There was the Klan back in Mississippi as he grew up, the continued racist mentality in the army, but then the War called and he answered.  He faced German mortar fire, machine gun nests, hand to hand combat, even the plot of one of his own men to kill him for being "colored".  The war changed the mind to the country about his people, but not the people themselves.  Now, as a sergeant in the SCPD, he faced racism and the itchy trigger fingers of punks, hooligans, and the occasional mob run in.

But never before had he faced a walking metal man!  Still, he lifted the M1 Garand and sighted it in over the hood of his cruiser.  He almost started laughing.  Bullets against a tank were foolish.  Guns against this monster was insane!  But they needed to buy time for the people in the streets past them to make it to safety.

Where was safety?  One of the units that made up the pathetic barricade placed across the street was a radio car.  Dispatch put the word out that there were three other of these beasts tearing the city apart in different places.  Sgt. Monroe knew they had to be heading to the industrial center.  Of course they didn't need dispatch to tell them about the other machines.  They could hear the explosions all around them.

"Okay, men!"  Lt. Hamilton called out from his position behind the radio car.  "Empty your magazines and change positions!  We just want to keep this big palooka busy!"

Monroe couldn't help but smile at the man's nerve and sighted back in the rifle.  Here he survived drunken good ol' boys to furious Nazis, only to have his ticket punched by a walking tank.  Monroe laughed but wouldn't leave his post for anything.

That's when the impossible happened.

A missile suddenly shot past the police barricade as if launched from something behind them.  The speed of it was so great that some officers were knocked to their knees and more than one cap went flying into the air.  The weapon hit the walking weapon so hard that the impact caused a shockwave that took out windows in the buildings surrounding the machine.  Monroe blinked as he got back to his feet to see what exactly hit the machine and actually stopped its march.  His eyes widened.  "Sweet Moses," he whispered in complete confusion and awe.

------------

The city flashed beneath her as she poured on the speed.  The wind hammered her, the rain tried to pelt her, but the hero barely felt them at all.  She came across the first target faster than she would have thought, but also found her mind had been increased with her body.  Instantly she took in the line of police cars, what their most likely plan was, and the distance of the first walking machine.  Focusing her attention on the machine, the hero willed herself to fly faster.  The force of which she suddenly shot with over the cops surprised even her.  She barely got her fists back in front of her before she hammered into its midsection.

The machine was not ready for the impact.  It acted like a prize fighter who didn't see his opponent throw everything into stomach punch while the guy was holding a sledgehammer.  Armor plating dented, servos crushed, and the machine toppled over onto its back.  The street cracked again with the impact and the machine's limbs splayed out.  Immediately, Deanna launched herself back into the air over the weapon and looked down at it.  It seemed down for the count.

The right arm suddenly whipped up toward her and the pincer like claws clamped around her with speed she didn't believe the machine had.  Her powerful arms were pinned against her side and the machine began to apply incredible pressure against her.  She gasped as she felt her arms being crushed to her sides and the machine began to push itself back up to its feet.  The pressure increased steadily and Deanna felt the muscles of her arms press dangerously tight against the bones of her ribs.

"I. Don't. Think. SO!"   With a roar, Deanna flexed her arms outward, pushing her might against the constricting claw.  At first the claw began to open slowly, then she remembered her physical power was tied to her will.  Focusing her thoughts, she surged her arms up and out.  The snap of power was so massive that the claw was forced back against the gears driving its grip, and both claws snapped completely off the joint.  The machine took a step back as if startled, and Deanna's eyes flashed with realization.  She shot forward in a snap and hammered a right cross into the bucket-like head.  The machine staggered backward again and tried to turn so its shoulder cannons could get the hero in its sights.

Deanna never gave it the opportunity. She seized the head in both hands, her powerful grip denting the armored plating, then launched herself upward while pulling with her arms and shoulders.  The head piece came off in a shower of wild electric energy.  The lightning flashed over Deanna's body, licking over her muscles with waves of needle like pain, but she didn't stop.  The head piece came free and the lightning stopped immediately.  Tossing the helmet aside, Deanna looked down into the body of the machine, to find the startled face of a man wearing thin leather helmet with a microphone attached to it staring up at her.

"Mein Gott…" the pilot uttered in German.

Twisting in mid air, Deanna hammered a kick into the machine's chest, once again knocking it over.  This time she landed on top of it and speared her hands into the plates that served as the chest armor.  With another mighty roar, power flooded into the muscles of her new body.  Veins buldged, fueling her muscles to swell, and armored plate tore free in her hands like cardboard.  Dropping the slabs of metal aside, Deanna looked down to the piloting chair and pilot that laid at the center of the machine.

The pilot wore what seemed to be a flight suit and was stunned from the impact of the blow.  She reached in and easily tore him free of the straps holding him in place.  Flying back over to the police, she dropped the pilot onto the hood of a police cruiser where the black officer was staring up at her.

"Tell everyone else that there are men in these suits.  I'm going to handle the rest."

With a quick nod, she launched into a burst of speed that once again caused a thunder clap in the air around her.  She knew she didn't have the element of surprise on her side any more.  That microphone most likely meant these robot men kept in contact with each other.  However, she doubted her pilot got any real information to the others.  After all, the sight of a woman tearing through tank armor after ripping your robot hand off would be enough to give anyone pause.

Despite the fact that the city was still in danger, Deanna could not help but smile.  Deanna the Librarian could not help the city in a time like this. Deanna the… Whatever-She-Was was going to save it.  While she didn't think the muscles made her look at all feminine, Deanna had to say she was growing to love her new body.

------------

Colonel Gerhardt hated his new suit.  It was hot, tight on every joint of his body, and he could barely see out of it.  He piloted it thanks to the view slot which was a combination of a set of goggles and a periscope, the compact radar display, and the voice of his navigator that came over the radio.  The reception was spotty at best under combat conditions.  The navigator on the zeppelin had to say every command three times to make sure the Colonel got it.

One thing the Colonel did not need repeated was that the Americans had some sort of super weapon.  Already he lost contact with two of his pilots.  Schmidt was the first, then the Russian Surov.  Both men were highly qualified pilots and skilled soldiers, but what they blurted out over the radios made no sense.  A flying woman who bent steel with her bare hands?  Surov even said she was bullet proof!  Laughable!  Perhaps the suits were not sealed against chemical attack.  Would the Americans launch nerve gas against their own cities?  Colonel Gerhardt doubted the soft cowboys had the stomach for such action.

His suit was singularly designed unlike the other Iron Knights.  Inside of it, the Colonel looked like a massive Tuetonic knight of old.  The suit was more armored than the others, carried more weaponry, and also moved easier and faster despite being stockier.  It was also shorter than the other models.  The expense in its creation was grand, so only the most experienced and skilled could pilot.  The Colonel felt honored when he was selected, but a few minutes inside made him miss the inside of his Panzer back in Africa.

A series of bullets bouncing off his chest plate drew him out of his thoughts and the Colonel immediately depressed the triggers on his arm controls.  The arms of his suit snapped forward, the guards over the forearms sliding back to reveal the powerful machine guns.  Two cars exploded under the hail of bullets and more than one innocent person met their end.  Foolish Americans.  Germans would have pulled back by now and called in an air strike to finish the invaders.

The buildings around Gerhardt began to thin and he smiled seeing his real target coming up: the industrial complex of Steel City.  Here they would drive a spike into the heart of the American military machine.  The rampage through the city was to make a point about the power of the Iron Reich's technology.  Taking out a few factories then hitting two of the mines would shut down this city's support of the military.  Of course the Colonel though they should have landed in the industrial park or near the mine,  but Sky Marshall Kleidecher overruled him.

Twit!  The man was a sadist and often let his passion to cause pain over rule his brilliant tactical mind.  The bastard wanted a body count, but the Colonel knew that the Iron King wanted results.  Still, Gerhardt was an excellent soldier and the Sky Marshal was his superior… at least in rank.  Seeing the first factory in sight, Gerhardt only smiled wider.

"Watch this, you pompous windbag," the Colonel growled to himself, not activating his mic, and pulled a lever near his hip.  He heard and felt the shoulder guard over his right arm snap open, revealing the three rocket propelled grenades.  He then watched as they launched across the view of the goggles, heading toward the upper windows of the closest building.  The sight of terrified faces looking out at him didn't put a dent in his joyous mood.

The grenades exploded with deafening force and the colonel felt his suit shake slightly from the explosions.  However, they seemed to explode too soon before hitting their target. When the cloud began to clear, the colonel swore more in that second than he had in the last two years.

A woman with more muscles than he had ever seen on a living being was hovering over the street between him and the building.  Smoke trailed from her body which was clad in skin tight white suit and pieces of ancient looking armor.  From her mighty frame, the colonel would have thought it was a man, but the size and shape of her chest made such an assumption impossible.

Interesting.

"Your friends in their little suits are gone," Deanna called over the wind, slowly floating toward the stronger yet somewhat shorter version of these hideous machines.  "I know there is a person inside of there.  Stop this madness now and I won't have to hurt you."

Gerhardt spoke perfect English and could only smile as the woman spoke.  All that power and yet she did not wish to hurt him?  This meant she was weak, and that was a weakness he could exploit.  Also, she obviously cared for the people around here, hence using this power to stop the Iron Knights.  Snapping his right arm to the side, Gerhardt exposed the gun port over it.

"Move any closer, fraulein, and I open fire," he said over the suit's loud speaker.  It made his voice sound inhuman and metallic, but he could be understood perfectly.  His vision was so poor that Gerhardt didn't know if the building he was aiming at was obviously empty, but the way the woman halted he knew it didn't matter.  She may be tougher than a Panzer outside but inside she was soft.

Gerhardt would have time to marvel over the fact of a woman built like that, flying, and invulnerable to grenades.  For now, he had to deal with her.  Using his other hand, he sighted in on the woman, putting the crosshairs square between those massive breasts.

Deanna froze when the armored man aimed the murderous gun toward the Co-Op beside him.  She started to focus her eyes to rush forward in a shot and possibly tear off the weapon from the arm.  Her eyes then widened when she caught a sudden flare of brilliance from the electric "eye" in the center of the helm.  Deanna almost moved out of the way, but it was too late.

The bolt of lightning hammered into her invulnerable skin then raced straight through it.  Pain ravaged her thick, well-defined limbs, over every inch of her flesh, and down deep into every spec of bone.  Her scream was torn from her as her muscles jerked and spasmed her entire body.  Finally, the lightning slowed and her body wilted to the ground from where she floated in the sky.

"Sorry, mein liebling," Gerhardt laughed over the loud speaker.  The Lightning Cannon was recharging already, but it would be some minutes before it would be ready to fire and then at only a fraction of its power.  He started walking toward her body, flexing the hand controls.  "I like my women a bit slimmer."

Deanna tried to roll over and push herself up to her feet, but unfortunately her muscles failed to obey her.  Just as she tried to put her mind to the problem, a massive metallic hand slapped over her face.  She was lifted off the ground then slammed right back down into the concrete.  That was followed by two hammer blows to her face, causing the flesh of her jaw to press against the bone tighter than it should.  These impacts she felt.  These impacts actually hurt.  Then the armored foot drove down and blasted into her stomach.  Deanna gasped for breath.

She heard the German laughing as the hand came down and lifted her off of her feet by the back of her head.  The machine then pulled her in close and suddenly let her go, only so the thick armored arms could slam around her in a hideously strong bear hug.  Deanna's eyes widened as she gasped again, what little breath she had being driven from her lungs.  Gears continued to grind together as the arms continued to squeeze the very life out of her body.  She found herself staring at the featureless armored chest, inches below the helmet.

"You are quite strong," the voice mocked as she felt her arms almost melding to her sides.  "Unfortunately, your might is nothing compared to mine.  We shall enjoy finding out how you government succeeded in such power, but to give it to a woman?  Well, you can now see the folly of that decision."

Against the pain of punches and the stomp, the crushing grind of the squeeze, and the agony of the lighting, Deanna finally got mad.  All her life she heard such bunk from men.  She was smart and athletic, but she was never good enough simply because she was a girl, a skirt, a dame, a woman.  Now, this sick bastard came into her town, killed innocent people, and was going to start that same talk.  Not now.  Not anymore.  Not from this piece of -

With an explosion of force, the colonel suddenly found himself and his prey rocketing up to the very churning clouds he dropped from.  His eyes widened as he could not disengage the arms from their deadly drip since the gears had to be wound back.  In less than a moment, they were over the city and almost into the clouds.

"Mocking a woman capable of tearing your suit in half," the woman said into his visor.  "Now that is folly."

With a sudden roar, the woman knocked his arms open, severely damaging the gears of both shoulder units.  The colonel was about to snarl a curse at the woman, when he realized he was plummeting back toward the Earth.  His cursed became a scream since he was falling to his death.

Deanna let the sucker fall for a blink, then shot forward with all the speed she could muster.  As she raced by him, she tore the shoulder unit that launched the grenades at her first.  It came off in her hands, and she immediately dropped it to the street below and rocketed back again.  Over and over, she flew in a tight pattern of flybys, taking a section of armor at a time.  Finally, she landed on the street below and opened her arms.

The screaming form of Colonel Helmut Gerhardt landed in her arms, his powerful suit now simply scattered debris all around them.  As Gerhardt realized he was not dead he turned and found himself looking dead into the eyes of one very angry, very powerful woman.

"You were saying?"  Deanna asked then dropped him to his feet so she could thump him very lightly in the jaw with one finger.  The flick of her finger sent him sprawling off his feet and completely unconscious.

Looking up into the storm clouds, Deanna knew the machine men came from those clouds.  Something, some kind of vessel, must have dropped them off.  Just as she started to launch back into the sky, an explosion of lightning so powerful and so wide blinded her.  She felt the concussion of the thunder and when she finally blinked her eyes clear, she saw the thunder clouds thinning above.  Quickly, she launched back into the sky and found it empty of anything but clouds in all directions.  There was no debris raining down on the city, no smoke lingering in the air.  Whatever vessel brought the murderous weapons and killers to her city was simply gone.

The words of Athena echoed in her mind.  Ares, the God of War, had plans for Steel City.  These killers were his soldiers and the weapons they wore possibly his gifts, but not as strong… not as pure as the belt Athena granted her.  She took another look around the city they raced off back down to the city.  Deanna Sloane would need to be discovered soon, taking shelter in the library while everything was going on.  First, she had to help in relief efforts.  The killers' attack might have been briefer than they planned, but they still took their toll on the city.  She rocketed back down to her beloved Steel City, hoping against hope she could still make a difference.

---

"The beautiful powerhouse not only defeated the diabolical Metal Men but then shot around the city like a shooting star, continuing to help citizens in need.  Police Commissioner Hurst was overheard saying "That's one dynamic dame. " That comment alone sparked the citizens of Steel City to call our new hero Dyna, the Dynamic Damsel.  May-"

The black gloved hand clicked off the radio then went back to resting on the arm rest of the leather backed chair.  They failed.  Utterly.  Completely.  Their Lord would not care about a few innocents killed, property damage, or other paltry matters.  He only cared about results and they failed His Greatness.  Slowly, she bowed down on both knees out of her chair and light the iron brazier situated before her.  The coals immediately caught fire from the match and the heat baked over her with an almost intimate caress.

The flames were low, but their heat intense.  Slowly, in the waves of heat over the brazier the image of the wall behind it began to twist and bend.  A pair of eyes formed, narrowed with rage.  She could not make out color or tone, only the shape of them and the dangerous, dark anger that boiled inside.

"Find this newest Pawn!" the voice echoed out to her, but from the depths of her own soul.  "Find this 'Dyna' and find a way to strip her of the gifts she has been given!"

"As you command, My Great One," she answered, softly, submissively.

"Then break her and bend her to my will," the voice hissed, dark delight in its words.  "Let my sister wail when her Pawn becomes MINE!"

The woman's lips curled into a smile and dark light flashed in her own eyes.

"As you command, my Lord."

---THE END ...for now?---
The first time I've posted something here that I didn't create myself. (Although it is based on one of my creations.)

This came to me via e-mail from a fan called Jack Maddington, and it's a very interesting "Golden Age"-ish take on Dyna the Damsel Dynamo.

I've done some light copy-editing (correcting punctuation and such), but the story is his. Interestingly, his story anticipates plot elements I intended to use in my own "Menace in Metal" (still on hiatus).

If you'd like to give Jack your reactions to this story, he can be e-mailed at jcmaddington -at- hotmail.com. (UPDATE: he's got his own dA account now!) Of course, I'd like your comments here as well :D
© 2008 - 2024 DavidCMatthews
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yatz's avatar
That is some very impressive story-telling. Too bad America's Best Comics is defunct - this would have fitted right in with Alan Moore's best.