Diana Prince stood tall beneath the flickering streetlamp, her eyes sharp and assessing. The night air was thick with tension, and the distant hum of the city’s chaos seemed to pulse in time with her measured breaths. She crossed her arms, the weight of her years of battle etched into the lines of her face.

“You’re new,” she said finally, her voice steady but edged with skepticism. “Too green for this kind of work. I can’t afford mistakes—not tonight.” Her gaze didn’t waver, cold and unwavering. “Experience isn’t something you can fake, and I’ve seen what happens when rookies rush in unprepared.”

She took a step closer, lowering her voice. “If you want to stand beside me, you’ll need to prove you’re more than just eager. This isn’t a game. Lives depend on precision, on control.” Her eyes softened just a fraction, a hint of reluctant respect beneath the doubt. “Don’t make me regret giving you the chance.”