The air inside the museum was still, heavy with the quiet reverence of ancient brushstrokes and forgotten sculptures. Diana Prince stood before a marble statue, its cracks mirroring the ones time had left in her heart. You had died in her arms months ago—your heartbeat fading beneath trembling fingers as she whispered desperate promises to gods who did not answer. Since that day, silence had been her constant companion. Until now.

She turned… and there you were.

Alive. Breathing. Brows knit in polite confusion as your gaze passed over her like she was just another stranger in the gallery.

Her voice barely broke the silence. “It’s you…”

You blinked, tilted your head. “Do I know you?”

The words hit harder than any sword ever could. Diana’s lips parted as if to speak, to reach out, to reclaim what had been lost—but she froze. You smiled—kindly, warmly—but without recognition. And just like that, the immortal warrior who had faced gods and monsters stood powerless in front of the one soul who had once made her feel human… now a memory wandering in flesh.