In the railway station of London, Diana looked around at the crowded platform. Steam drifted through the air while people hurried past carrying luggage, the sound of metal wheels and whistles echoing under the tall iron roof.
Her attention stopped on the massive iron machine resting on the tracks.
"What is this?" she asked, pointing directly at it.
Daniel followed her gaze and smiled slightly.
"That's a train," he said. "A machine used for long-distance travel. It runs on steam."
The engine released a loud hiss as white vapor burst from its sides.
Diana watched the giant wheels and pistons move with fascination.
"So people willingly sit inside that… and let it carry them?" she asked, clearly unsure whether it was transportation or some kind of mechanical beast.
"Yes, it's better than horses," Daniel said.
He looked at the soldiers boarding the train while their families stood nearby, saying goodbye.
'I really hate wars.'
They are usually the result of some asshole sitting at the top of power, greedy for something that belongs to someone else.
Sometimes wars are fought for the sake of people… but that "sometimes" is barely five percent. The remaining ninety-five percent comes from the selfishness of leaders.
And those leaders never fight the wars themselves.
They just send innocent soldiers to fight and die in their place.
Daniel's gaze followed a young soldier hugging his family before stepping onto the train.
Honestly, if two countries wanted to fight, they should just give boxing gloves to their leaders and make them fight each other. Let them punch until their bones break, until they feel the pain themselves.
Maybe then they would think twice before starting pointless wars.
'Maybe when I become powerful… I should actually do that.'
A faint smile appeared on his face.
'And I would really enjoy seeing their faces.'
"Lady, why don't you have some ice cream?" a vendor called from a small cart nearby.
Diana turned toward the cart with curiosity. The colorful frozen blocks arranged in ice immediately caught her attention, and after watching a few people buy them she decided to try one herself.
Daniel stepped forward to pay. Since he didn't carry the paper currency of this era, he simply placed a gold coin in the vendor's hand.
The merchant stared at the coin for a moment. He turned it between his fingers, then raised it to his teeth and bit down lightly.
Real gold.
His eyes widened as he looked back up at Daniel.
"You can keep it," Daniel said casually, waving a hand as if it were nothing important.
The merchant's expression changed instantly. A wide smile spread across his face as he pocketed the coin with obvious excitement.
"Thank you, sir," he said gratefully. Then he looked between Diana and Daniel with amusement in his eyes. "Ma'am, your husband is very generous."
Diana paused while eating the ice cream and slowly turned her head toward Daniel. For a moment she studied him thoughtfully, as if genuinely considering the statement.
Daniel didn't react much, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
Diana returned her attention to the ice cream, taking another bite while still thinking about the merchant's words. The cold sweetness made her eyes brighten a little.
Whatever else this world had, she decided, this strange frozen food was surprisingly good.
***
By the time the train reached the coast, the air had changed.
The station near the port was crowded with soldiers moving in both directions. Some were heading toward the ships that would take them to the Western Front in Belgium. Others were coming back.
Those returning looked very different.
Many were wounded. Some walked slowly with crutches, others had bandaged arms or empty sleeves where limbs once were. Medics helped a few of them toward the train while families waited nearby.
Diana watched quietly.
Her expression changed as she saw a young soldier struggling to step off the platform, his leg heavily bandaged.
"Can you help them?" she asked softly, turning to Daniel. "Can you heal them?"
Daniel glanced toward the wounded men for a moment.
"Can," he said calmly. "But won't."
Diana frowned. "Why? As a god, isn't it your duty to help humans?"
Daniel looked back at the soldiers boarding another ship heading toward the front.
"I am helping them," he replied. "By staying out of their affairs."
Diana didn't understand.
"If I heal them," Daniel continued, "what do you think happens next?"
"They go home," Diana said. "They return to their families."
Daniel shook his head.
"No. They get sent back to the war."
His tone remained calm, but his eyes stayed on the platform.
"They survive hell once, barely crawl out of it alive… and if I heal them, the army will simply put a rifle back in their hands and send them straight into that hell again."
Diana was silent.
"That's not mercy," Daniel said quietly. "That's forcing them to relive the worst moment of their lives."
He glanced at the wounded soldier who was now being helped toward a carriage.
"It breaks people," he added. "Physically first… then mentally."
"So no," Daniel finished.
Steve, who had been listening beside them, nodded slowly.
"I agree," he said. "You don't understand how the army works. If they can stand and hold a rifle, they're sent right back."
*****
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