Wonder Woman stood across from the young man, her genetic offspring, yet a stranger.
He stood tall, his physique a testament to Cadmus' perfectionism....and good genetics, His blue eyes burned with confusion, resentment, and anger.
"I called you 'son' because that's what you are," Wonder Woman said, her voice steady yet filled with unyielding resolve. "Not just because of your DNA, but because I want to help you find your place in this world."
He scoffed, stepping forward. "Help me? Do you think words like that mean anything to me? I didn't ask for any of this. You call me 'son' like you've earned the right, but where were you when they built me? When they programmed me to fight, to kill you if needed?"
Diana's expression hardened. "You are not a weapon. You are not a tool. You are more than what Cadmus made you."
He clenched his fists, the sand crunching beneath his feet as he advanced toward her. "Funny. That sounds like something a warrior says after they've beaten their opponent. Show me, then, mother. Prove you deserve the right to call me 'son.'"
Diana's lips tightened into a thin line, and she dropped into her combat stance. "If that's what it takes, so be it."
He lunged first, his speed catching even Wonder Woman off guard. His fist came straight for her chest, a blow designed to shatter ribs. Diana sidestepped at the last second, grabbing his wrist and twisting to throw him.
He adjusted mid-air, landing on his feet like a predator. Without hesitation, he spun into a roundhouse kick aimed at her ribs. She blocked, the impact reverberating through her forearm, but he pressed the attack with a flurry of punches and kicks.
"You fight well," she admitted, parrying his strikes with precision. "Cadmus trained you thoroughly."
"Don't patronize me!" he growled, ducking under her jab and slamming his shoulder into her midsection. The force knocked her back, but she rolled with it, coming up with a spinning kick that clipped his jaw.
He staggered, but his adaptive instincts kicked in. His footwork shifted, mirroring her Amazonian style. "You're holding back. Don't insult me by pretending I'm fragile."
Diana narrowed her eyes. "You think this is holding back? Fine."
She surged forward, her blows coming faster, harder, each strike testing his adaptability. He met her punch for punch, his movements growing sharper with every exchange. When she aimed a feint toward his face, he anticipated it, grabbing her wrist and twisting into a takedown.
But Diana didn't go down easily. Using his momentum, she flipped over him, landing behind and locking her arm around his throat. "Yield," she commanded, her voice firm but not cruel.
His response was a primal roar, his body tensing. He slammed his heel into her shin, then bent forward, throwing her over his shoulder. Diana landed hard but rolled back to her feet.
"You don't want to stop," she said, her tone softer now. "But this fight won't give you the answers you're looking for."
"I'm not looking for answers," he spat, his chest heaving. "I'm looking for truth. And the truth is, you're trying to claim me as something I'm not. You didn't raise me. You didn't make me. Cadmus did."
Diana stood still, her breathing steady despite the fight's intensity. "You're right. I didn't make you. But that doesn't mean I can't try to guide you. To help you find your path, even if you hate me now."
His fists trembled, his body coiled as though ready to strike again. But something in her voice—a sincerity he couldn't refute—gave him pause. Albeit a temporary one before he launched himself at her again.
-Small Timeskip-
The salty air whipped around them, the sounds of crashing waves drowned out by the thundering impacts of fists meeting flesh. Wonder Boy (Project Spartan) and Wonder Woman had been fighting for what felt like an eternity, both pushing their physical limits, neither giving an inch.
His attacks were relentless—brutal combinations of strikes meant to overwhelm her. His fists moved like blurs, fast and precise, with each blow testing her limits. Spartan's training from Cadmus had made him a master at reading and adapting to his opponent's moves, just like he was genetically designed to fight Superman. Wonder Woman wasn't the easiest opponent, but his engineered instincts gave him the edge.
He swung for her head, but Diana ducked under his blow and caught his wrist, flipping him onto his back. Spartan rolled and sprang to his feet, his reflexes honed to perfection. He immediately went for a low sweep to knock her off balance, but she leaped high, evading the strike, and launched herself downwards with a flying kick aimed directly at his chest.
He twisted his body mid-air, taking the full impact but using it to propel him back to his feet with a grounded fist. Diana's eyes glinted with respect, though her stoic expression never faltered. "You're a quick learner," she noted, her voice a quiet challenge.
"I've had a lot of practice," he shot back, his voice tense with anger. "You'll have to do better than that, mother."
Diana's face softened, but Spartan's words cut deep. Still, she was a warrior, and she didn't hesitate. She surged forward, her strikes becoming more rapid and focused. Her battle-hardened fists hammered against his defenses, her footwork elegant yet powerful.
Spartan blocked and parried as best as he could, but he was starting to feel the weight of the battle. His body, conditioned by Cadmus' rigorous tests and the war games with Superboy, was built for combat, but this wasn't just a physical fight. There was something deeper gnawing at him—something about her that unsettled him. Her grace, her power, her compassion—they clashed with the cold, calculated control he'd been taught to value above all else.
He found an opening in her defense and threw a punch that landed squarely in her ribs. Diana staggered but didn't fall. Instead, she spun into a devastating elbow strike aimed at his jaw, knocking him back several feet. His legs buckled from the sheer power of the blow, but Spartan quickly regained his footing.
Diana pressed forward, but Spartan wasn't done. He raised both his arms to block a powerful overhead strike, then caught her fist mid-air. With his other hand, he drove his knee into her abdomen, sending her reeling back. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he breathed heavily, but his mind was razor-sharp, calculating his every move.
"You don't know what you're asking of me," he said, his voice strained but resolute. "I was built to fight. I was built to win. And now you're asking me to be something else—someone who can trust and belong? I can't just switch that off."
Diana's eyes narrowed as she wiped blood from her lip, but her voice was steady. "I never asked you to be anything other than what you are. You don't have to be like anyone else, Spartan. But you don't have to be alone, either."
Her words hit him harder than any punch. He faltered for a split second, the opening she needed to land a spinning back fist across his cheek. He staggered but caught himself on one knee.
"Enough!" He roared, standing up with determination. His body pulsed with intensity, his mind seething with emotion. He surged forward, his fists blazing as he met her with equal ferocity. It was no longer just about the fight—it was about proving something, proving he didn't need her. Proving he was his own man.
Their combat became a blur of calculated attacks and counterattacks, bodies moving too fast for the naked eye to keep up. Diana's skill was overwhelming, but Spartan's speed and raw power kept him neck and neck with her. Blow after blow, they tested each other's limits, neither willing to relent. Spartan's Cadmus training pushed him past normal human endurance, but Diana was no less relentless, her warrior spirit rivaling his.
The intensity of the battle reached its peak as Wonder Woman managed to land a blow that sent Spartan crashing to the ground, his chest heaving as he tried to push himself back up. He had to pause for a moment, feeling the weight of every bruise and cut.
Suddenly, his comms beeped, cutting through the silence.
"Spartan, come in. The team is in danger. Mr. Twister has appeared—coordinates transmitted. I need you to act immediately."
Spartan's eyes narrowed, the weight of the situation shifting in an instant. His focus snapped back to the mission at hand. The battle between him and Diana wasn't over, but there were more pressing matters.
Without saying a word to Wonder Woman, Spartan's hand moved to his gear. He quickly got dressed. His body was still sore from the fight, but his instincts were sharp—this was what he was built for.
"I'll finish this later," Spartan said quietly, his voice taut with purpose. He rose into the air, before launching through the sky and instantly accelerating past the speed of sound breaking the sound barrier.
Diana watched him, her expression unreadable, as he soared into the sky. She knew the battle wasn't over—not for him, and not for them.
The calm of the night had been broken, and now the urgency of the mission lay heavy in the air. Spartan flew towards the team's last known location, his mind focused, his heart set on the task ahead.
His body adjusted mid-flight, shifting to a denser form to speed up his travel. He could already feel the shift in the wind as he neared the location where Mr. Twister was causing chaos. The wind was unnatural, the storm brewing at a dangerous pace. Spartan's eyes flashed with determination.
"Hold on," he muttered to himself as he pushed his flight speed to the limit, his body cutting through the air like a fighter jet. "I'm coming brother."