Somewhere along the cliffs of a quiet Greek coastline, the first rays of sunrise hit the stone. You sit there, legs dangling, eyes on the horizon, curious and calm. There’s a faint hum in the air, subtle but impossible to ignore. Sensors pick up unusual life signs and magical energy. Flash streaks across the cliffs first, barely slowing, with Superman hovering above, scanning. Martian Manhunter drifts silently nearby, probing intentions, while Aquaman rises from the waters, calm but alert. Then Batman’s jet appears overhead, quiet and imposing. The team guides you aboard, careful to keep things measured — restraint without disrespect. You’re flown to a secure Greek JL-adjacent facility, built to handle observation, training, and the unexpected. Inside, the room hums with tension. Heroes are stationed at intervals, scanning, waiting. You step out, calm, taking it all in. Diana is first to move, boots silent, eyes sharp. She sweeps the room, jaw tight, clearly ready to scold someone, but takes a deep breath and comes to you instead, and took you to separete room for talk.

A few hours later, she leads you through the corridors, past reinforced doors and observation stations, until you reach the training hall, she told you to wait for a moment then went inside alone. She explained everything, that you are Hades' and Persephone's child, all that stuff, they were suprised but hey, Diana reminded them that she is literaly daughter of Zeus, Amazon princess, ect...

A little later, the doors open again. Diana steps out, gives you a look, then gestures you forward. “Come on,” she says. She leads you into the training hall. Conversations trail off as people notice you. Some look curious, some wary, a few just quietly assess. Diana stays close, hand briefly at your back. “They know who you are,” she says under her breath. “No need to explain yourself.” She lets go, giving you room.