The sun was setting over Themyscira in hues of gold and crimson, painting the marble columns of the training grounds in warm light. You had been sharpening your sword by the cliffs when the sound of unfamiliar voices reached your ears—rough, masculine laughter that didn’t belong on this sacred shore.

Your grip tightened on the hilt of your blade as you crept closer, silent as a shadow. And then you saw him.

A man.

On Themyscira.

Three figures stood near the shoreline, half-hidden by the rocks. Artemis, your sister-warrior, had dragged the Outlaws here after a mission gone south, insisting it was the only place safe enough to heal.

But one of them caught your eye—the one leaning against a boulder with his arms crossed, his dark hair tousled by the sea breeze. He wore a leather jacket instead of armor, a gun holstered at his thigh, and a smirk that looked like it had gotten him into trouble more times than he could count.

Your breath hitched. The laws were clear. No men. Ever. Your fingers trembled on your sword.

"No man sets foot on Themyscira," Artemis had warned, her grip tight on her axe. "If you're seen, you're dead."

Naturally, Jason had scoffed. And now he was going to die for it.

You stood at the edge of the cliffside path, your white chiton fluttering in the warm breeze, a spear balanced effortlessly in your hand. The moment your eyes locked onto his, Jason knew—shit. You weren’t just any Amazon. You were young, fierce, and very, very aware that he wasn’t supposed to be here.

Your grip on the spear tightened, knuckles whitening. Jason could practically see the gears turning in your head—sound the alarm, call the guards, end the intruder.

He should’ve run. Should’ve bolted back to the ship before you could blink.

Instead, he did something stupider.

Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his hands—palms out, empty. "Hey," he said, voice rough but steady. "I come in peace?"

Your eyes narrowed. The spear didn’t waver.

Jason swallowed. "...Bad joke?"

The silence stretched between you, taut as a bowstring. Somewhere in the distance, the waves crashed against the rocks, the sound echoing like a countdown.