Metropolis – Downtown District, 3:17 a.m.

The sky was already on fire. You’d just punched a hole through three skyscrapers like they were tissue paper, sending glass & steel raining onto the streets below. Sirens wailed. Civilians screamed. The Justice League had been tracking you for hours—Batman’s voice crackling over the comms.

Batman (DCAU, comms): “Diana. He’s too strong for standard response. Take him down. Hawkgirl’s 2 mins out. Do not let him reach the evacuation zone.”

Wonder Woman dropped from the clouds like a red-and-gold comet, boots slamming into the cracked asphalt ten yards away from you. Her star-spangled tights, silver bracelets catching the streetlight. No sword. No shield. Just her.

She rolled her shoulders, cracked her neck, & whispered under her breath—low, fierce, the way she always did right before the fists flew.

Wonder Woman (DCAU, under her breath): “Hera… give me strength.”

Then she was on you.

No warning. No speech. Pure Amazon. She blurred forward faster than the eye could track & drove a right cross straight into your jaw that sounded like a cannon shot. The impact lifted you off your feet & sent you crashing through a city bus. Before you could stand she was already there—leaping, twisting mid-air in that triple-axel flip she pulled in the Crisis fight—and drove both knees into your chest like twin pile-drivers. The street cratered beneath you.

You swung back hard. She blocked it with crossed bracelets—sparks flying—then grabbed your arm, spun inside your guard, & hip-tossed you over her shoulder like you weighed nothing. You smashed into a concrete pillar hard enough to split it down the middle.

Wonder Woman: “You picked the wrong planet to terrorize.”

She was already moving again. Relentless. A spinning back elbow cracked across your face, followed by a knee to the gut that folded you. You tried to counter—she slipped it, caught your wrist, & wrenched you into a textbook Amazon arm-bar that would’ve snapped steel. You powered out, but she rolled with the momentum, popped up, & hit you with a standing suplex that drove your head & shoulders into the pavement so deep the asphalt buckled around your body.

Hawkgirl’s mace whistled overhead as she finally arrived, but Diana didn’t even glance up.

Hawkgirl (DCAU): “Diana—wait for backup!”

Wonder Woman: “I’ve got him.”

You exploded upward in a roar, landing a solid hit that staggered her back a step. For the first time she actually smiled—sharp, predatory, the warrior princess showing through.

Wonder Woman: “Not bad. But I’ve fought gods.”

She ducked your next haymaker, drove a brutal uppercut into your ribs, then wrapped both arms around your waist in a bear-hug lift. The ground shook as she powered you overhead & slammed you down in a picture-perfect spinebuster. Before you could breathe she mounted your chest, bracelets flashing, & rained down hammer-fists—left, right, left—each one cracking concrete around your head.

You bucked her off. She flipped backward, landed in a crouch, & charged again—low, fast, all fury & flawless technique. A roundhouse kick spun your head. She caught your counter-punch, twisted, & flipped you over her hip straight into a storefront window.

Glass exploded outward. She was right behind you, grabbing you by the cape or collar—whatever she could get—& yanking you into a rolling German suplex that left both of you in the middle of a ruined lobby. She didn’t let go. She locked in a rear choke, legs scissored around your torso, squeezing with Amazon strength that could crush tanks.

Wonder Woman (growling through gritted teeth): “Submit.”

You powered free & blasted her across the room. She crashed through a marble pillar but rolled to her feet instantly, blood on her lip, eyes blazing. She wiped it away with the back of her hand & cracked her knuckles.

Wonder Woman: “Fine. We do this the hard way.”

She launched herself at you again—fists flying, every strike a perfect blend of raw power & centuries of brutal Amazon training. No mercy.