It had been dusk when Diana galloped away from the gala. Chief’s smoke signals had barely been visible in the dark sky as she tore through the forest, her thoughts raging uncontrollably with bloodlust.
It was fully night when she reached the airfield.
Ludendorff died. She drove her sword through his chest, through the ceiling, through the floor. For a moment, she knelt over him, watching as he took his last shuddering breath. Then she climbed to her feet and threw back her head.
Steve died. The night sky rumbled and flared as the plane exploded- but it was nothing compared to the way the earth quaked as she rose up and roared in fury, tossing men aside like dry leaves.
Ares died. Lighting poured into his arms, crackled up and down her body, and she grinned before driving him into the dirt, deeper and deeper and deeper, until his immortal body could no longer withstand her power, and he was no more.
But Isabel Maru is alive.
It is dawn when Diana finds her facedown in the rubble. She had run, but she had not gotten very far. She is wounded- Diana can see the blood seeping through her torn jacket, and there is a deep gash in her forehead where she had been struck with debris.
The woman’s eyes open slowly as Diana lifts her from the mountain of broken concrete and melted steel. She does not speak, but her face twists into a grimace of pain.
“I’m sorry,” Diana whispers. Isabel Maru stares unflinchingly up at her, almost as if in defiance. She does not reply, but her eyes flicker with recognition.
It is years before Diana sees her again.