Wayne Manor stood silent under the pale Gotham moon, its ancient stone walls gleaming faintly in the darkness. Inside the grand collection room, the air was still—until a faint metallic click broke the quiet.
A graceful silhouette knelt before a massive vault embedded in the far wall. Her posture was calm, her movements deft, but the stubborn lock refused to yield.
After several failed attempts, the woman sighed softly and straightened, a wry smile touching her lips.
> "Looks like I'm not quite all-powerful after all."
Her voice carried a trace of amusement, rich and confident.
If the vault wouldn't open by finesse, then brute force would do just fine.
Without hesitation, she reached forward, gripped the heavy safe with one hand, and pulled.
Crack!
Metal screamed. The bolts holding the vault in place tore free from the wall with an ear-piercing shriek. Dust cascaded down as chunks of plaster rained over her shoulders.
That was how absurdly strong she was.
The moonlight streaming through the tall windows caught her profile—strong, regal, effortlessly beautiful.
Wonder Woman. Diana of Themyscira.
Tonight, the legendary warrior princess of the Amazons was playing the part of a thief.
She hefted the solid vault under one arm as if it were made of cardboard, then strolled toward the nearest window. With a fluid motion, she unlatched it and stepped onto the sill.
And then—she jumped.
The fall was over ten meters, yet she landed as light as a feather, knees bending just slightly before she continued walking, utterly unbothered. Her heels clicked softly against the cobblestone path, the sound swallowed by Gotham's nocturnal wind.
At the perimeter wall of the estate, she paused, glanced upward, and sprang.
Whoosh!
In a single bound, she cleared the wall, soaring effortlessly through the cool air. She landed in a crouch on the quiet road beyond, her movements silent, precise.
A heartbeat later, she was gone—her form melting into the endless shadows of Gotham night.
---
> "Didn't expect someone as beautiful as you to be pulling this sort of stunt."
The voice drifted down from above, calm yet edged with irony.
Diana's head snapped up, instincts flaring.
There, balanced on the curved top of a streetlamp, stood a man cloaked in black. His cape rippled behind him, and his mask gleamed faintly under the lamplight.
Batman.
At long last, after months of eerie calm under Alex's watch, the Dark Knight had finally found something worth coming out of the shadows for.
> "You're mistaken," Diana said coolly, her eyes narrowing. "I doubt you even know what I'm doing."
> "Oh, I know exactly what you're doing."
The voice was dry, almost amused. Of course he knew. Bruce Wayne had spent the evening talking to her—this was no stranger.
> "Put the vault down," Batman ordered evenly. "Do that, and you can walk away."
Given who she was—and what was inside that vault—he was willing to let her go. Just this once.
> "Sorry," Diana said with a faint smile. "That's not happening."
> "Then I'll have to apologize in advance."
His voice dropped, gravel-dark. With a flick of his cape, Batman dove from the streetlamp, gliding down like a living shadow.
But—
Snap!
A golden flash ripped through the darkness.
The Lasso of Truth snapped forward like lightning. In one fluid motion, Diana caught him midair, yanked hard—
Bang!
—and slammed him into the pavement.
The shock of impact echoed through the street.
Within the Justice League, Wonder Woman's strength ranked just beneath Superman's—far beyond Aquaman's, and incomparably above any mortal man. Against her, Batman's armor and gadgets were little more than toys.
> "Great," Batman groaned, rolling to his knees, dazed. "I suddenly feel sorry for any guy who ends up arguing with you."
> "No need," Diana replied coolly, coiling her lasso back onto her hip. "I'm single."
> "Then I pity your future boyfriend."
Batman lunged again. His fist swung forward—fast, trained, brutal.
Thud!
The result was inevitable.
He flew backward like a rag doll, slamming into the very streetlamp he'd been perched on earlier. The steel pole bent inward with a tortured crang!
His ribs screamed in protest. Pain radiated across his chest, but he still gritted his teeth and rose, stubborn as ever.
> "So the legend of Wonder Woman is real…"
Even battered, he couldn't suppress the faint awe in his voice.
Diana didn't reply.
He came at her again. She barely moved—just a simple pivot, a flick of her wrist—and he was sent sprawling once more.
This time, he stayed down.
Had she not restrained herself, he would've been nothing more than a smear on the asphalt.
She regarded him with faint pity, then adjusted the vault under her arm and turned to leave.
But then—she froze.
Something rippled through the air.
A deep, thunderous boom split the silence, followed by a blast of displaced air that sent loose debris swirling across the street.
A sonic boom.
Diana's instincts screamed. She whirled around just as a streak of red and blue cut through the night sky.
In the blink of an eye, a figure materialized before her—tall, broad-shouldered, eyes faintly glowing.
Homelander.
Her expression hardened instantly.
Batman had been a nuisance. Homelander, though… his presence alone radiated the kind of pressure only gods or monsters could produce.
Indeed, it was Alex.
The vault tucked under her arm had once held fragments of her own divine shield, lost long ago. And now, standing before her, Alex held those same relics in his hands.
> "Diana," Alex said calmly, voice almost gentle, "put down the vault. I'll only say this once."
His tone was light—almost casual—but every word carried weight, the quiet certainty of someone who didn't bluff.
> "That's not going to happen."
Her reply was firm, proud, and unyielding.
> "Good," Alex said, a faint smile curving his lips. "Because when you refuse me… it gives me a reason to hit you."
And with that, he blurred.
Gone.
> "What—!"
Diana barely registered the motion before it hit her—literally.
Homelander's speed was beyond human comprehension. One instant he was several meters away; the next, he was right in front of her.
His fist came down like a sledgehammer.
Diana barely crossed her arms in time—
BOOM!
A bone-deep impact reverberated through the street. The ground split beneath her feet.
The shockwave rippled outward, shattering nearby windows, twisting the lamp posts, and tossing gravel like shrapnel.
Diana's body shot backward like a cannonball, slamming into a brick wall hard enough to make it crumble. Dust exploded around her, filling the night with a choking haze.
Chunks of plaster rained down.
When the cloud cleared, Alex was already standing there, vault in hand.
> "Really, Diana," Alex said, his tone dry and amused. "Did you honestly think taking my things would be that easy?"
He held the vault loosely at his side, expression casual, utterly unbothered—as though the fight had barely been worth his time.
Diana stepped forward from the debris, brushing dust from her shoulder. Her eyes burned with fierce, righteous defiance.
> "Enjoy your little victory while you can," she said coolly.
Her tone was composed, but the tension in her stance betrayed her intent. That first hit hadn't hurt her much—merely startled her.
Now, though, she was done holding back.
For the first time that night, Wonder Woman decided—
—to fight seriously.
Her lasso shimmered gold in her hand as she drew it once more. The faint hum of divine power began to pulse through the air, and even Alex's grin faltered slightly, intrigued.
The battle between god and monster was only beginning.
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