Returning home after the Watchtower debriefing, Marcus was greeted by the buzz of his phone. A message from Shayera. The invitation was simple and direct: a carnivore restaurant. After the brutality of the fight with Lobo, the idea of a simple, meaty meal was strangely soothing.
He put on a chic but casual outfit—a black blazer over a simple t-shirt and jeans—and headed out to his car, a white Nissan 370Z Nismo with red wheels and a spoiler. It was a pleasure he allowed himself, a vestige of his "normal" life that he cherished.
The restaurant, Rokkasen Otakibashiidori, was an institution renowned for its grilled meats and seafood. The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with the appetizing sizzle of meat on the grill.
He found her already at the table, devouring a skewer of Wagyu beef with a concentration that made him smile. She was dressed in a leather top and jeans, her wings carefully folded under a specially designed, loose jacket.
"Hey, angel," he said, approaching and kissing her cheek. "That looks good, what you're eating."
"Yes, very good," she replied, her mouth half-full, without stopping chewing. She swallowed. "I see you didn't wait for me."
"On my planet, patience isn't a virtue," she retorted with a shrug. "We're made to be warriors, to protect our world. So we're direct." She pushed an empty plate toward him. "Help yourself."
As he served himself, she noticed the new glasses he was wearing.
"Hey, you're wearing glasses now?"
"Yeah, they're from Clark," he explained, adjusting them. "To stay under the radar. But you, with your wings..."
"Ah, never mind that," she interrupted with a dismissive wave. "They think I'm cosplaying. See? I'm incognito too." She gave him a conspiratorial wink.
They spent the next hour in a perfect bubble of relaxation, sharing grilled meat, laughing about everything and nothing. It was a precious interlude, far from cosmic crises and bureaucratic reports. For a moment, they were just Marcus and Shayera, a couple enjoying a dinner date.
But in the shadows, a pair of eyes watched them. Not with malice, but with a deep, painful emotional intensity.
Behind the hidden camera...
A man with dark skin, elegantly dressed, sat in a discreet car parked across the street, watching the screen of his phone. The image, transmitted by a long-range camera, showed the happy couple. His face, that of Carter Hall, was marked by astonishment mixed with pain.
He murmured, his voice laden with a millennia-old sadness:
"So, you have returned to life as well... my wife."
His gaze rested on Shayera, on her free and relaxed smile, so different from the Thanagarian princess he had known and loved throughout the ages. Then he looked at Marcus, and a glimmer of confusion, even jealousy, crossed his eyes. The cycle of reincarnation that bound them, Shayera Hol and him, was broken. She was here, alive, but her heart seemed to belong to another.
He turned off the screen, letting darkness fill the car. The discovery of his beloved, reincarnated yet seemingly happy without him, was opening a new, deeply personal and potentially painful chapter in the already complex destinies of the heroes.