Steve Trevor dropped the maschinengewehr machine gun they'd taken from the german soldiers to the museum floor, his arms aching from carrying it. The shelling was getting closer outside. They’d been lucky to make it even this close to the front lines alive. “How long is this likely to take, Diana?”
“The change should only take a few moments,” Diana said, stepped up onto the plinth. She struck those pose in which she would spend the next few days. “How do I look?”
“Like a work of art,” he said sincerely. “And they won't detect you?”
“How could they? I’ll be just a statue,” Wonder Woman smiled.
“What about this Ares guy?”
“The spell will seal everything I am within my tiara. Even the gods couldn’t find me,” she assured him. “As long as I have the tiara, nothing can go wrong. As you say, these German fondness for cultural artifacts will see me transported to their capital for display. Once there, I will turn back, defeat Ares, and end this war,” she said brightly.
As much as her optimism had been like a beam of sunlight in these dark times, her naivety worried Steve. This war was no place for a woman. She began to incant, strange Greek words that seemed to hang and glow in the air. A current was flowing up the girl’s body from her toes to her tiara. The tiara glowed as it began to drain her divinity into itself.
The girl’s flesh grew cold and lifeless, slowly fading from bronzed greek goddess to cracked, ancient granite. Her eyes turned into unseeing stone.
Steve climbed up onto the plinth beside the statue, deftly plucking the tiara from its head. It felt warm in his hand. He paused, staring into the stone eyes, trying to ignore the sense of guilt and betrayal, though he knew it was the right thing to.
“I’m sorry, Diana. You’re too trusting for a war like this.”
The moment he slipped the tiara over his brow, a surge of delightful heat pulsed through him. All the weariness of thebitter war was banished. He felt young and vibrant again.
The outpouring of divine energy rolled through his body. Locks of dark black hair spilled down over his shoulders. He felt the cartilage of his face painlessly crack and reform into something beautiful. Old scars faded into marble-smooth, tanned skin, and a pair of divine breasts blossomed upon his chest. His muscles were winnowed away, his arms became slender things, his thighs and calves toned and athletic. Yet even in this diminished appearance, they held a hundred times the strength they had.
His cock was the last holdout. The energy of the goddess gathered between his legs, dwindling and burning away his manhood. Fertile organs of new life formed within his abdomen.
Throughout this, the statue of what had been Wonder Woman remained unmoving and impassive, though he avoided its gaze as much as if it were a medusa. He took her shield for his own, studying his new reflection in the polished mirror. A face of exquisite, otherworldly beauty looked back at him. Full lips that seemed made to smile, and dark, twinkling eyes that carried a naive innocence. It was her face alright.
“Don’t fret, Diana,” he said, the soft, sweetly feminine voice from his own lips catching him off guard “When the dust settles and the world is safe, I’ll return for you.”
With a single, delicate-looking hand, he lifted the machine gun with ease, as he might a sidearm. It had taken all his strength just to drag it here.
“You won’t have to endure this long. It’ll all be over by Christmas.”
The shelling was almost on top of the museum now. Feeding a belt of ammunition into the machine gun, he strode back out into the battle, a true amazonian, and the new Wonder Woman.