HISD Chapter 110 DC's World-Class Painting
The night grew ever darker.
DC Universe. Earth. Washington.
Inside the Natural History Museum, the grand banquet was in full swing. Eighties pop music flowed through the illuminated hall, and guests in elegant attire sang, laughed, and danced without the faintest awareness of the danger lurking in their midst.
Maxwell Lord, the television celebrity and oil tycoon, strode into the ballroom. His tailored suit and luxury watch gleamed under the lights, his slicked-back hair shone with oil, and his polished leather shoes clicked smartly against the marble floor. His sharp eyes quickly locked onto a silhouette amidst the crowd.
His expression lit up as he hurried forward.
"Barbara! You look absolutely stunning tonight!"
His praise was no exaggeration.
Barbara Minerva, normally a quiet and overlooked scholar at the museum, had always stood in contrast to the beautiful and commanding Diana. But tonight was different.
Barbara was transformed. No thick glasses weighed down her face. Her once-dull blonde hair was now voluminous and curled, cascading in waves over her shoulders. Her sharpened eyes glittered with confidence. Her radiant face exuded a dangerous, intoxicating allure.
She wore a sleek black suit-dress, a daring outfit that most women would fail to carry. On her, it perfectly accentuated her curves—lush and full, enough to make one's mouth dry. Her long, toned legs were powerful yet graceful, the high heels elevating her into the elegance of a hunting leopardess.
Though she was not quite Diana's equal in perfection and poise, Barbara possessed something unique—a wild, predatory charm that begged to be conquered.
But to Maxwell's confusion, she gave no reaction to his compliments. Her trembling eyes were fixed instead on the center of the hall.
He followed her gaze and froze.
There, Diana was dancing with a silver-haired man clad in a dark combat suit. The pair's movements were fluid and powerful, drawing every eye in the room.
Jealousy pricked at Maxwell's heart. He had expected to be the star of the night, yet here was this stranger stealing the spotlight.
What he didn't know was that Barbara's fixation wasn't admiration—it was fear.
Her heightened instincts screamed danger. Her chest tightened painfully as her gaze locked onto the silver-haired man. She wanted to flee. Every nerve in her body bristled as though facing a predator.
She knew her body had been changing lately. Since holding that ancient Roman crystal yesterday, she had felt herself evolving.
She had wished to shed her meek, prey-like existence and instead become the fiercest predator in the world—like a leopard, strong and untouchable.
Meanwhile, Maxwell had noticed the faint purple glow of the crystal in the stranger's hand. His heart leapt.
"That's it… the stone said to grant any wish!"
It was the artifact he had searched for years. His very presence here tonight had been in hopes of acquiring it.
…
On the dance floor, Yi Meng clasped Diana's hand, the crystal secure in his other. His every movement, though slow and measured, carried crushing power. He ignored the killing intent burning in Diana's eyes.
His lips curled into a wild grin, and beneath his calm exterior, his aura grew sharper, more domineering.
Through clenched teeth, Diana asked coldly, "You came for the stone?"
Yi Meng's dark cloak rippled as he moved. His answer was blunt.
"Obviously. I was curious. I came to see it for myself… and I found an unexpected surprise."
Diana couldn't tell if he meant the crystal or herself. Her voice hardened.
"What is this stone's purpose?"
She expected evasion, but Yi Meng answered freely.
"An artifact of the Old Gods. Said to grant the holder any wish. But it always takes an equal price in return."
His gaze swept over her casually.
"You've held it too, haven't you? You've already made a wish."
Diana's heart trembled. Had she unconsciously voiced a secret desire? Perhaps… to see again the comrade she had lost in the war?
Her head snapped toward the hall's entrance.
There he was.
Steve Trevor, or someone who looked exactly like him, stood there. His square, handsome face was pale, his eyes vacant as they locked onto her and Yi Meng.
Diana's body stiffened, her mind going blank.
Yi Meng noticed her reaction and chuckled knowingly.
"Ah. So that was your wish."
Without hesitation, he slid a hand around her waist, pulling her closer. Their tall, perfect figures curved together in the dance's final motion.
Diana's body remained rigid, her mind reeling, yet she moved with him instinctively. Her dark curls spilled against his cloak as the music came to an end.
Under the radiant chandeliers, the tableau froze in time—an image so beautiful it could have been immortalized as a painting.
Destroying happiness, Yi Meng thought, could also fulfill his hunger for destruction. It was as though a door to a new world had opened inside him.
…
The pale man at the door—Steve—turned silently and fled the hall.
Yi Meng released Diana's wrist. She realized too late what had just slipped from her grasp. Rage and sorrow boiled in her chest as she gave chase.
"Steve!"
Out in the darkened plaza, the night sky suddenly blackened with storm clouds. Bolts of lightning ripped through the heavens. The ground trembled, and a furious wind howled like an oncoming tornado.
"What's happening…" Steve cried as he was thrown to the ground.
Diana froze. The peaceful city was now engulfed in disaster.
Step. Step.
Yi Meng emerged from the museum, his silver hair gleaming, the crystal in his hand cracked and glowing ominously. His dark cloak billowed like the wings of a demon.
"It was you! What have you done?!" Diana's voice rang with fury.
"Nothing much," Yi Meng said calmly. His eyes flared red, monstrous and unearthly. He raised the crystal.
"Like you, I made a wish. The Old Gods wanted a price. I tried to pay."
He tilted his head, smiling with cruel amusement.
"But unfortunately, the price I offered… was more than they could take."
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