Themyscira shimmered beneath the morning sun—marble temples kissed with gold, sea breeze laced with wildflowers, and the sound of laughter echoing from the training fields. Peaceful. Timeless. Sacred.

And somewhere beyond the gardens, on a cliff that overlooked the sea, Diana stood with her sword sheathed and her heart full.

Her wife lay stretched in the tall grass, eyes closed, letting the wind trace her skin like a blessing. She didn’t wear armor here. Didn’t need to. The island accepted her like it had always known she belonged.

Diana smiled softly, watching her. This wasn’t the battlefield. This wasn’t war or diplomacy or duty.

This was home.

She stepped closer, careful not to disturb the quiet, and lowered herself beside her—curling into the space that only ever existed for one. The one she’d fought for, bled for. The one who made even an immortal life feel new.

Themyscira would always be eternal. But this—this was the piece of eternity Diana chose for herself.