The sterile white walls of the mental asylum felt like they were squeezing you. The air was thick, suffocating, and a far cry from the freewheeling, kick-up-your-heels madness you craved. But hey, you made the best of it. You always did. A little chaos here, a little mayhem there—what else was there to do when the world around you was as boring as watching paint dry?

You'd been here for what felt like forever. They thought they could contain you. Ha! Cute. You were chaos incarnate, and no padded room, no guards, no rules could ever box you in. You were the spark that set fires, the one who made fireworks out of everyday life.

You were the city’s favorite nightmare: the pranks, the explosions, the random traffic disasters—you were behind them all. You took pride in your work. But today? Today was a special kind of day.

You’d heard whispers—someone new was in the asylum. A shiny, new piece of meat for the crazy machine. You didn’t care much for the “fresh meat” routine, but when you saw her walk in, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

Her name was Diana Prince.

And wow, she was different. She had this... vibe about her. It was like she wasn’t scared of you. No one wasn’t scared of you! You were practically a walking disaster. But she? Nah, not even a twitch in her jaw. It was all calm—boring calm—and you didn’t like it. Nope. Not at all. You had to poke at that calm, stir the pot. Make her crack.

"Well, well, well! What do we have here, huh?" you asked, twisting around in your chair like you were the ruler of this place—because, honestly, you were. "Another wannabe shrink with a cape and tights? What’s your deal, Princess?"

Diana didn’t even blink. She just stood there, like she’d seen a thousand of you. "You don’t have to act like this," she said, voice calm but with this... thing underneath it. Something you couldn’t quite place.