A few days had passed since the world was saved.
The skies above Greece were painted in twilight hues—deep violet blending into fading orange, with the last traces of daylight casting long shadows over the ancient land. Stars had begun to pierce through the darkening veil, one by one, as the world beneath bustled in quiet rhythm. It was a moment suspended between day and night, past and future.
High above the coastline, gliding effortlessly through the skies like whispers on the wind, two figures hovered in silence.
Ethan floated beside Diana. The Amazon Princess was silent as her gaze swept across the glittering sea and marble ruins below.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she finally said, it was the tone of someone who had seen countless sunsets and yet never tired of their splendor.
Ethan tilted his head slightly, "Yeah… it really is."
They floated in comfortable silence for a moment before drifting back toward the capital, gliding past the Acropolis, the Parthenon bathed in soft light. The city pulsed below, alive with stories and memories.
"I wonder what the others would think," Diana mused aloud with a faint smile tugging at her lips. "If they found out we're all just comic book characters in your world."
Ethan let out a breath, almost a chuckle. "Honestly? It's probably best they never do. Some things are better left unknown. Sometimes... ignorance is a blessing."
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, curious. "You say that with experience."
"I do," he said in a low but honest tone. "Too much knowledge at once can be a burden. Some people spend their whole lives chasing answers, only to realize the truth was heavier than the lie."
Diana nodded slowly, saying nothing more as the wind played with her hair.
Ethan's mind drifted. He and Anna had now settled in well here. After much thought, he had bought the hotel he'd first stayed in when he arrived—its top floor now his and Anna's home.
Diana had taken the suite directly across from theirs—not at his request, but her own decision. She claimed it was practical and though Ethan didn't read too much into it, he couldn't ignore the occasional curious glance from the Amazon princess.
And then there is Aeon Biotech, his vision and future empire, which was something he fully intended to establish here. Plans were already in motion, albeit crawling at a snail's pace. This world was new—laws were different, technologies behind by decades in some areas and wildly ahead in others.
Establishing a proper foothold required more than just wealth or willpower—it required strategy, patience, and most importantly… people.
Anna had taken it upon herself to scout potential headquarters for the company. Industrial zones, science hubs, even coastal ports—she inspected them all with the diligence of a CEO and the precision of a tactician.
He wanted to help Anna with this, but she insisted on handling it herself. "Have a little faith in me," she told him gently. "I'll ask for help if I need it." Ethan trusted her—after all, Anna was the one who managed their company back in their own world.
He had no doubt about her capability. Still, this world was far more dangerous than the Marvel Universe, and that gnawed at him. He knew she could handle herself, but that didn't stop him from worrying.
That morning, she'd taken a short trip to explore more locations, combining business with some light sightseeing.
Ethan, on the other hand, had taken Diana out for fresh air. Not as a date, not exactly… but something about this moment felt different.
They hadn't flown far, just letting the world unfold beneath them. It wasn't a date… but the ambiance, the silence and the presence—they all felt like something more.
"I feel like we're different," Diana said suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts. "Different from the gods here… and from the normal people of this world. Or yours."
Ethan floated a little higher, letting his body turn slowly midair, "We are different. Unique. But not completely alien to them. Every person is different in their own way. The key is… choosing how to live among them."
She frowned slightly. "That's not what I meant. I mean… you, me—we don't fit into this world. Not completely. The gods rule from the sky. Mortals walk on the earth. But we're somewhere in between."
Ethan smiled at that, letting his legs hang casually beneath him. "You're not wrong. We're in the grey. But here's the thing—being in the middle? That means we get to choose."
She turned toward him, brows arched.
"We can choose to stand with them," he continued, "or in front of them. Lead or walk beside. The Justice League—when it's formed—will probably stand at the forefront, become symbols to rally behind. Some might not like the idea of powerful people guiding them. They might feel controlled."
She asked, "Then what do you think is a good solution?"
He looked down at the glowing city, lights like veins pulsing through a sleeping titan. "Beside them," he said. "Not above. Not below. Just… with them."
She tilted her head, intrigued. "You really believe people want someone to walk beside them?"
"Not always," Ethan admitted. "Some want gods. Others want monsters. But most? Most just want someone who understands them. Who shares their burdens, not dictates their path."
Diana floated closer, her hair catching moonlight like strands of gold. "Then why live among them? With your power, you could shape nations. Change the world."
"Who said I wanted to live among them?" he asked with a grin.
She blinked.
"I'm just exploring the options," he added, teasingly. "Truth is, I just want to live my life. Build something meaningful. Love my girls. Maybe earn a little fame and fortune along the way."
She laughed—a genuine, melodic sound that echoed through the sky.
"But you said it yourself," she countered. "If we're different, if we're better… isn't it our responsibility to guide them? To protect them?"
Ethan's smile faded slightly. He drifted toward her, close enough that the air between them felt charged.
He reached up gently and brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, his touch soft and deliberate. "You can't guide others if you don't understand your own life first," he said, voice steady.
Her breath caught in her throat.
"You have to live," he continued. "Truly live. Understand joy, pain, failure, love. Only then can you help others do the same."
She stared at him. As if seeing someone entirely new.
"I'm not saying abandon your purpose," he said. "If protecting the innocent is what you want, do it. If you want to walk among them as one of them, do that too. Or do both—like Superman. What matters, Diana, is that you choose how to live. Not the gods. Not fate. You."
She looked away for a moment, gazing at the stars. "You speak like someone who's lived a lifetime already." she murmured with a soft smile playing on her lips.
Ethan chuckled, thinking of long days behind desks, of gray cubicles and silent trains, of the motivational quotes he clung to during his past life as a corporate slave. Quotes he had memorized, preached to himself, whispered in his mind just to keep moving.
"Maybe I have," he said cryptically.
For the first time since meeting him, she looked at Ethan not just as an ally, or a visitor from another world… but as something more.
And he looked beautiful—outlined by moonlight, his blue eyes reflecting the city below with a smile on his lips and wisdom in his gaze.
There was something different about Ethan tonight.
Something she hadn't noticed before. Something… real. Her heart beat just a little faster.
And for the first time since arriving in this world, Wonder Woman—a warrior, ambassador and a princess—felt something stir that she couldn't name.
Not duty. Not purpose. Not obligation. But something much more human.
Much more… personal.
---------------
While Diana and Ethan were suspended above the Grecian skyline, trading truths beneath the twilight veil, another story quietly unfolded in a very different corner of the world.
Gotham City.
A place where night came faster than light. Where the buildings leaned with the weight of sorrow and the shadows whispered rumors to those brave—or foolish—enough to listen.
But even in hell, there were places of solace.
And tonight, Anna Marie found one.
She sat on a smooth, polished wooden counter, a half-drained bottle of local beer in her hand, the chill glass sweating under the warm neon glow. The bar's interior was dim but comforting. Soft jazz murmured from old speakers, clinking glasses and hushed laughter mixed with the scent of citrus and smoke.
The sign above the door had read "Afterlife."
'A fitting name,' Anna thought. A place that felt like a second chance. A breath of fresh air in a city choking on its own darkness.
She swirled the liquid in her bottle, her lips curling in a thoughtful smile. She'd stumbled on this place by accident while sightseeing, hoping to find something helpful for thier company.
And she'd found this bar.
Around her, the patrons laughed and shared stories. A group of construction workers joked over pool. A young couple shared a quiet booth in the back. Even the loners looked more at ease here, as if the bar itself whispered: You're safe.
Anna tilted her head. 'Gotham might be a hellhole,' she thought, 'but this place? This is a paradise in hell.'
"Are you new to Gotham?" came a voice beside her, gentle yet filled with subtle charisma. "I don't think I've seen you around before."
Anna turned her head, raising an eyebrow—and her beer.
A woman stood behind the bar, casual yet striking. Her hair was in dreadlocks tied back with a crimson scarf. She wore a sleeveless black tank and fitted pants that spoke of comfort and readiness, with gold bangles clinking gently on her wrist. Her presence radiated warmth and authority without effort.
Anna smiled before setting her bottle down. "Yeah… you could say that."
She turned on the stool to face her fully. "This place feels… comfortable. Real warm for a city like this. Hell of a place you've got here."
The woman smiled warmly. "Thanks for the compliment. I'm Didi, by the way," she said before extending her hand for a handshake.
Anna reached out and shook her hand. "Anna Marie. Nice to meet you." She leaned back before letting her eyes scan the room again. "But tell me something—'Didi'... that your nickname, or your real name?"
Didi chuckled, "What do you think?"
Anna laughed softly before lifting her bottle to her lips. "Hmm. Mysterious. I like that. Interesting name. What's it mean, anyway?"
Didi only winked. "Names are funny things," she said, moving gracefully down the bar to refill a drink. "They can mean everything… or nothing."
Their conversation continued in pieces over the next hour. Between serving drinks, Didi would drift back to her, sharing stories from past patrons, cracking jokes, or throwing out insightful quips that made Anna grin.
What struck Anna wasn't just Didi's presence—it was her heart.
She greeted every customer like an old friend. Shared laughs with those celebrating birthdays or job offers. Whispered comfort to those drinking away grief. When a burly mechanic broke down in tears after a hard phone call, Didi slid a drink across the bar and placed her hand on his shoulder—no words, just presence.
'She's the soul of this place,' Anna realized. 'That's why it feels alive.'
But peace is rarely permanent in Gotham.
It happened fast—too fast for most to catch.
A girl, maybe nineteen, was working near the jukebox, gathering empty glasses when a man reached out and grabbed her waist.
She flinched, backing away, clearly uncomfortable. "C'mon sweetheart," the guy slurred before grinning as he reached again. He had five friends behind him, all cocky, all drunk.
Anna stiffened. She wasn't the type to ignore something like that.
But before she could move—
"That's enough."
Didi's voice cut through the bar like a bell.
She stepped around the counter, her hands empty and her tone calm. "Let go of her," she said. "Now."
The man scoffed. "Just having some fun. Chill out, lady."
"You don't want to do this here," Didi warned gently.
And then, something remarkable happened.
The bar itself shifted.
One by one, patrons rose to their feet.
The pool players dropped their cues. A man in a suit and tie adjusted his sleeves. Even the old jazz saxophonist set his instrument down with quiet finality.
All of them stood beside Didi.
The drunk man looked around, suddenly aware that he was the outcast here.
"Tch," he muttered before waving his hand dismissively. "Place is lame anyway."
He turned on his heel, his buddies following, one by one, out into the street.
Anna let out a slow breath. Her fingers had been twitching, her instincts ready to act. But it hadn't been necessary.
They had her back. All of them.
"First time in Afterlife?" said a voice beside her.
Anna turned to see a man in his early forties sitting at the stool next to hers. He had a relaxed posture, a scruffy beard, and a weathered look that said I've lived through worse.
"Yeah," she said, leaning on the counter. "You could say that."
He extended a hand. "John."
She shook it. "Anna."
John took a sip of his whiskey before nodding toward Didi. "She runs this place like it's a sanctuary. And we treat it like one. Gotham's a cesspool, yeah. But this bar? You don't mess with it. Or the people in it."
Anna raised an eyebrow. "She always get that kind of support?"
"Always," John said. "She saved my life once. Talked me off a roof. Helped a bunch of these guys too. Hell, even the criminals respect her. No one brings trouble here. Unless they're idiots like those guys."
Anna turned back toward the bar, where Didi had resumed her flow like nothing had happened, handing out drinks, chatting with a couple celebrating an engagement.
"She's… really something," Anna murmured.
John nodded, smiling. "She's the kind of person who reminds you why it's worth hoping again."
Moments later, Didi returned to them, wiping her hands on a cloth.
"Well," she said, flashing her usual smile, "I see you two have bonded."
Anna raised her bottle in salute. "Your place has that effect."
They all laughed. And just like that, a new connection was formed over drinks, shared stories, and the quiet warmth of a bar that refused to let Gotham define it.
Tonight, Anna found something a new friend in this world or maybe a new companion.