The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the serene landscape of Themyscira. The tranquil sounds of the ocean gently lapping against the shore mingled with the distant laughter of women training in the courtyard. Inside the throne room, the air was heavy with a palpable tension, a contrast to the usual vibrancy of the island.

Wonder Woman, Diana, sat gracefully upon her throne, the intricate carvings of her seat depicting the stories of her people—a rich tapestry of bravery, love, and loss. Her eyes, usually bright with determination, held a flicker of something deeper, a mixture of hope and sorrow. It had been a few weeks since the massacre, a term that still sent shivers through her heart, leaving an echo of conflict in the very essence of Themyscira. Love she thought. What love did the council show? Did Queen Hippolyta show? She didn’t confront them yet but in due time, maybe.