After Steve finished explaining the current crisis, he saw that neither woman objected. Satisfied, he dragged his multinational team of misfits off to "mingle with the villagers" — though his excuse was that he needed to find a German officer's uniform.
Find one?
They were everywhere.
Thea stared speechlessly as their towering Native American "chief" flexed his muscles at a little village girl like some showboating bull.
"You look troubled."
The two hadn't joined the celebration. They walked hand-in-hand down a quiet country path when Diana finally spoke, catching the unnatural stiffness in Thea's expression.
"I…"
Thea hesitated, then decided to tell half the truth.
"After we deal with Ares… I'll have to go back."
"Go back?"
Diana wasn't Hippolyta — she didn't have a god-king to whisper poetry with under the moon — but even so, Thea's words stunned her.
"Yeah. Back to where I came from. My family's waiting for me…"
"Are you… an alien? Or not from this world? Or…" Diana's brow furrowed. "Not from this time?"
For all her bluntness, Diana was a scholar steeped in mythology. Reading thousands of texts wasn't for nothing. She quickly narrowed down the possibilities.
Thea didn't answer — but she didn't deny it.
They reached halfway up the hillside and stopped. Below them, the village glowed with warm yellow lights, laughter drifting faintly through the night.
"Will I ever see you again…?"
Unlike her farewell on Themyscira — where she knew everyone would be fine and she'd eventually return — this was different. For the first time in her life, Diana tasted the ache of parting. Emotions she'd never known tangled in her chest.
"Of course. But it'll… take a long time."
Thea smiled at her gently. After half a year together, they'd built something that felt almost like family.
"How long will you be gone?"
"Around… a hundred years."
At the word hundred, Diana visibly relaxed. She had expected something far worse. With a five-thousand-year lifespan, a century was nothing. Thea hadn't hidden her divine siphoning either — both of them now had unnaturally long, enduring lives. Live carefully, and they'd be around for ages.
"Don't worry," Thea said confidently. "I'll find you again."
She was already imagining it — dragging Diana back to the present timeline and beating down Ra's al Ghul together. If that wasn't enough, call Batman and Superman. No matter how many trump cards Ra's had, he'd get steamrolled.
Her gaze drifted downhill. "Huh? They're dancing. Do you know how to dance?"
Even halfway up the hill, both could see perfectly.
Diana tilted her head.
"I have Athena's wisdom. There's nothing I cannot learn. But… why are they dancing man and woman? That's not how we do it on Themyscira."
Thea's expression twitched.
Of course not. You don't even have men. What are they supposed to do — pair up with ghosts?
Still, Themyscira's traditions made things easy for her. She'd worried that two women dancing would look strange here — but now she could just call it "Amazon culture."
"Beautiful lady," Thea said, bowing theatrically as she conjured a white suit with magic. The cut leaned masculine — she looked a little like a Greek version of Kaitou Kid — and even summoned white feathers drifting in the breeze.
"May I have this dance?"
Deeply shaped by ancient Greek romanticism, Diana found the gesture charming.
She placed her hand in Thea's.
"I would be honored, my knight."
Under the bright moonlight, the two began to dance alone on the quiet hillside.
Thea, dragged through years of Moira's noble-lady training, had danced since childhood. Add her current agility and the divine memory from being Artemis' chosen, and her movements flowed like a living spirit. Classical Greek steps merged effortlessly with modern forms into something entirely new.
Diana, with her perfect memory and coordination, quickly followed. In ancient Greece — where beauty was culture — dance was a required art. Themyscira preserved those traditions. Following Thea's lead, Diana adapted swiftly.
They were a striking pair:
Thea — dressed in sharp white, elegant and steady.
Diana — armored, radiant, feminine yet fearsome.
It only lacked music.
Thea felt a small pang of regret. Then she remembered a song — one that fit the moment perfectly. Though it wouldn't exist for decades, singing it now wouldn't break time too badly… right?
She whispered a silent apology to Audrey Hepburn, cleared her throat, and began to sing.
"Moon River, wider than a mile…"
Moonlit waters stretching far and bright.
"I'm crossing you in style someday…"
Someday, somewhere — I'll meet you again, beautifully.
"Oh, dream maker, you heartbreaker…"
A river that carries dreams, and shatters them.
"Wherever you're going, I'm going your way…"
Wherever you flow — I'll walk alongside you.
"Two drifters, off to see the world…"
Two wanderers, seeing the world together.
The original version was soft, melancholy, wistful. Not their style — not for two women who would rather cut a Gordian knot in half than lament it.
Thea's rendition soared — bright, ringing, pure in the moonlit air. Diana heard every emotion threaded into the lyrics. Their eyes met. They both understood what the other felt. Diana gave a deep, steady nod.
Whatever the future held — she knew someone would always walk by her side.
At first, few villagers noticed them. But as Thea's voice traveled downward, the celebrations slowly grew quiet.
"What song is that?"
"I can't hear clearly from this far, but… it's beautiful."
Several villagers whispered excitedly.
The Indian man elbowed Steve.
"Hey — is that the two women up there? You still haven't said — where on earth did you meet women that beautiful and that… that—"
He fumbled for a word strong enough to describe Diana's terrifying combat power.
"—that amazing?"
"They're… they're from…"
Steve opened his mouth — and nothing came out. The more he tried to speak, the foggier the memory became.
He didn't know it was the automatic effect of Themyscira's wards, pushing his mind away from the supernatural and redirecting the blame toward Thea.
"I… I can't say… Samir, you have to believe me — I'm not hiding it on purpose."