Chapter 44: Lightning, The Reversal
Washington, D.C.
A young white man in his early twenties yawned wearily as he unlocked the door to his apartment, backpack slung over one shoulder.
Kicking off his shoes, he slipped into house slippers.
"Right," Barry Allen suddenly remembered something. Last night, a friend had asked him to take care of a kitten.
The kitten had been asleep since then, all the way through the morning. He wondered if it had woken up yet.
Thinking of this, Barry pulled out a can of tuna from his bag and headed toward his room.
He opened the door.
The pet carrier on the desk, unzipped, was empty. The ginger kitten that had curled up inside was nowhere to be seen.
"Where'd you go?" Barry muttered. He wasn't too worried though. With his experience raising pets—and plans to apply for a job at a pet shop—he had already closed the doors and windows, unplugged all outlets, and left the apartment safe.
Even if the cat ran around, there shouldn't be any danger.
"Huh?" Barry noticed something strange. He stared blankly at his desk.
Wait… where was his chair?
The chair was gone?!
Before he could panic about a possible intruder, a soft meow sounded behind him.
Barry turned. The ginger kitten stood at the doorway, staring at him with wary, almost hostile eyes.
"There you are," Barry sighed in relief, shaking the can of tuna. "Look, I brought you food."
He stepped forward to approach the kitten.
But then—
The kitten's mouth suddenly split wide open, grotesque and monstrous. Several thick, writhing tentacles shot out toward Barry in a blur of movement.
Barry's eyes widened in shock. At the last instant, faint arcs of lightning flickered around him.
In the blink of an eye—
The kitten, the room, the entire world froze.
No, not frozen.
Barry was simply too fast. So fast that time itself seemed to halt for him.
In this heightened state, Barry circled around the almost-motionless creature. His eyes narrowed in silence.
He remembered now.
His friend had warned him the kitten was… special.
Special? This wasn't a cat at all.
…
On Themyscira, atop the training grounds—
Clang!
For what felt like the hundredth time, Xi Nian's Greek sword was knocked from his hands, spinning into the ground.
His palms were red and raw, faint blood seeping out.
Even so, he didn't quit. He staggered forward, picked the sword back up, and tightened his grip again.
"Come again!" Xi Nian gasped for breath, sword raised toward the tireless Antiope.
Around them, warriors gathered in a circle. Beyond them, Amazonian citizens crowded near the buildings, watching this uneven fight.
"Useless," Antiope said coldly, lunging forward in a blur. Her sword struck with both speed and force.
Xi Nian braced himself with all he had, but the impact knocked him and his sword tumbling across the grass.
The spectators shook their heads. Only Antiope paused, her eyes flickering with a strange look.
This time, Xi Nian hadn't dropped the sword. He still clutched it tightly.
Of course, the cost was clear.
When Xi Nian struggled to his feet, leaning on the blade, a drop of blood slid from his fingers onto the hilt.
Antiope's gaze hardened. "Pointless. Admit defeat."
"You're right," Xi Nian said, smiling through the pain. "If I want to protect her in the future, I have to get stronger."
Then he added quietly, "You're sweating, aren't you?"
"It's only the sun," Antiope replied flatly. In truth, Xi Nian's stubbornness was more impressive than she had expected.
But that was all. In him, she saw no hope.
That thought brought her a strange pang of disappointment.
Then—
Xi Nian suddenly charged, dragging his sword behind him.
Antiope frowned. She hadn't expected him to go on the offensive.
"Pointless," she muttered, raising her blade. But before she could strike, Xi Nian hurled his sword straight at her.
He threw it away?
"Foolish!" she snapped, easily batting the weapon aside.
But at that moment, Xi Nian closed the distance. His empty hand clenched into a fist and slammed against her exposed shoulder.
Antiope didn't budge—like a mountain, immovable against the blow of a mortal boy.
"You've lost," she said, raising her hand like a blade, aiming at his neck.
But before the strike could fall, her wrist was caught.
By Xi Nian's hand.
"Now!" Xi Nian's eyes flashed. He twisted his waist, using the sudden surge of strength in his grip to lift Antiope completely off the ground and hurl her across the field.
Her sword fell from her grasp, landing neatly in Xi Nian's hands.
The training ground fell silent. Antiope had been thrown more than ten meters. Xi Nian alone stood tall, crown gleaming, sword in hand.
An impossible reversal.
What just happened?
Antiope lay on the grass, stunned. That strength—just now—hadn't been weaker than her own. In fact, it had been stronger.
She didn't know.
When Xi Nian's fist struck, his blood had mingled with the sweat on her shoulder. It was enough to trigger the conditions for his Master of Affection.
Her Amazonian strength had flowed into him, and the tide had turned.
"The General was defeated?"
"How could that be…"
"Incredible!"
The murmurs rose louder until applause erupted across the training ground.
Amazon warriors didn't care about pride here. Xi Nian's determination, his refusal to yield, and his final reversal—all commanded respect. Even guilt, for their earlier scorn.
Antiope herself looked up at the boy, crowned and defiant, and gave him a wry smile.
"Princess Diana," she murmured. "So this is the miracle you spoke of?"
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