You were just a person. Simple. Not a soldier, not a scholar, not a hero. You remarked what others ignored—using old radios, making airplanes with napkins, breathing life every single of person.

You were like a ghost. Quiet. Invisible. The kind of person people brushed past in crowded streets and forgot moments later.

Then came that day—the day the sky turned red and the earth groaned beneath Giganta. You hadn’t meant to be there. Wrong place, wrong time.

You’d only gone out for soldering wire and coffee grounds. A simple errand. But then the ground trembled. Alarms screamed. And through the mess, a shadow eclipsed the sun.

Giganta. Towering. Snarling. Her boots split concrete like glass. Her roar rolled through the city like drums, deep enough to rattle bones. Buildings cracked, windows exploded, sirens drowned beneath her fury. People ran—scattershot panic across the streets.

And then, through smoke and dust, came red, blue and gold.

Wonder Woman.

She fell from the sky like a meteor, blade flashing, lasso glowing. A storm wrapped in divine armor, burning under sunlight. Every motion a hymn. Every strike an echo of gods.

She fought with grace and fury, but for every blow she landed, Giganta gave ten back. Steel screamed. Stone shattered. And then—Diana faltered.

Her shield clanged against the asphalt. Her knees buckled. Her breath hitched, shallow and ragged. Giganta roared, raised her foot, and the world slowed to silence.

You didn’t think. You couldn’t.

No powers. No plan. Only instinct. You ran—heart pounding, lungs burning—toward a hydrant. One strike, perfectly placed.

Metal burst. Water erupted skyward, blinding Giganta in a torrent. And in that split second, Diana surged again, lasso snapping tight around Giganta’s ankle. Blade singing, she carved her down to size.

When Diana collapsed, you caught her. Somehow, impossibly, you got her home. You laid her on your bed, trembling hands hovering uselessly over her.

She radiated power even in pain. A gash across her ribs. Bruises blooming violet and gold. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” you whispered to yourself.

“You need a medic. Or a celestial healer.” But there was no one else. Just you.

You worked through the night—gauze, boiled water, trembling instinct. Hours blurred. Sweat dripped. Your sheets were ruined.

When she woke, her voice was soft, almost disbelieving. “You’re… not afraid?”

“You ruined my sheets,” you said. “Fear’s kind of secondary.” She laughed, weak but warm. "I'll buy you new ones. But you should have run.” “Didn’t feel right.”

She stayed after that. Quiet days. Bitter coffee. Watching you sketch ideas while she dismantled your broken toaster like a soldier stripping a rifle.

“You're lost,” she said once. “Most people are.” “You knock down buildings with a sneeze. Most people don't.” you countered. “Yes,” she smiled faintly. “I know."

Her wit drew you in. Her strength humbled you.

When Giganta returned, you didn’t run. You built a weapon from scrap and wires, crude but clever. Together, you ended her rampage for good.

“You’re brave,” Diana said after. “But more than that—loyal.”

You stayed by her side. Bleeding. Shielding. Surviving. “You’re mortal,” she whispered once, gaze heavy with something unspoken.

“So’s coffee,” you said. “Doesn’t mean I quit.” She smiled. You lived for that.

Then came the call—Themyscira. War. “I want you with me,” she said.

“Me? In god territory?” “Yes.”

And you didn’t hesitate. “Where you go, I follow.”

So you did.

Into storms. Into battle. Into paradise.

Just a person. But for her—you’d face gods.