Silence.
Not the kind that followed a lull in battle—but the kind that crushed sound entirely.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Every person on the battlefield could hear their own heartbeat, loud and uneven in their ears.
Because what they had just witnessed—
Didn't make sense.
The Amazon warrior had been fast enough to dodge bullets.
She was gone in an instant.
And beyond her—
The land itself had been split open.
A massive trench carved straight through the earth, stretching farther than the eye could follow. Its edges were unnaturally smooth, like something cut by precision beyond human comprehension.
It looked less like destruction…
And more like reality itself had been edited.
For a moment, no one could tell if they were still alive or trapped inside some kind of hallucination.
Then Noah Vale spoke.
"Now," he said lightly, "are you willing to work with me?"
His tone carried easily across the battlefield, casual despite the devastation behind him.
He wasn't interested in dragging this out.
A demonstration had been faster.
And far more convincing.
An Amazon warrior stepped forward, gripping her weapon tightly.
"…What do you want?" she asked, forcing the words out.
Noah raised an eyebrow.
"I already told you."
His voice didn't change.
"Peace."
He gestured vaguely toward the broken city around them.
"This war has taken enough lives."
The Amazon's jaw tightened.
"That's not your decision to make," she said. "This war doesn't end because you say so."
Noah studied her for a moment.
Then exhaled, almost amused.
Right.
These weren't people who folded under pressure.
They were trained, conditioned, built around belief.
Threats alone wouldn't be enough.
Still—
Being refused after offering a way out?
That irritated him more than he expected.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Stubborn," he murmured.
Then he smiled.
"Good. I prefer it that way."
If reason didn't work, there were other methods.
There always were.
The Amazon warriors tightened their formation, weapons raised, tension thick in the air.
Noah tilted his head.
"So," he asked, voice soft, "you're really going to say no?"
"I'll take peace!" someone shouted.
All eyes snapped to the side.
A resistance fighter stood there with both hands raised high, nodding rapidly.
"Peace sounds great. Really great. Big fan of peace."
Noah stared at him for a second.
"…Wasn't asking you."
The man lowered his hands awkwardly.
"…Right."
Noah turned back to the Amazons.
Their answer didn't change.
"We take orders from our queen," the warrior said firmly.
"Then I'll talk to your queen," Noah replied.
He clapped his hands once.
"Perfect."
And then—
He vanished.
Not entirely.
Just fast enough that no one saw him move.
By the time anyone registered what had happened, every Amazon warrior on the field collapsed at once.
Bones shattered.
Arms. Legs.
All of them broken cleanly, without a single wasted motion.
Their weapons hit the ground in a scattered chorus of metal.
Pain followed a heartbeat later.
They didn't scream—not loudly—but the strain showed in every clenched jaw, every sharp breath forced through gritted teeth.
Noah stood among them, untouched.
"I'll go have a conversation with your queen," he said.
His voice was calm.
Unbothered.
"And when she agrees with me…"
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Try not to regret this."
Then he was gone.
The battlefield lingered in stunned silence.
The resistance fighters exchanged uneasy glances.
"…What do we do with them?" one of them asked, eyeing the incapacitated Amazons.
There was hesitation.
Then something darker.
"They killed a lot of our people," another muttered.
The thought hung in the air.
Tempting.
Dangerous.
The team leader stepped forward quickly.
"No."
The word cut clean.
"We wait."
He glanced at the broken warriors, then back at the direction Noah had vanished.
"Whatever that guy is… we don't make moves without knowing how he'll react."
Reluctantly, the others backed off.
Deep beneath the city, in a reinforced underground tunnel—
Queen Diana was in the middle of an interrogation.
The Lasso of Truth glowed faintly as it wrapped around a captured soldier, forcing answers from him.
She didn't hear Noah arrive.
No one did.
One moment, she stood there.
The next—
Her head slammed into the wall.
Stone cracked.
The impact echoed through the chamber.
Before anyone could react, it happened again.
And again.
Each strike drove her deeper into the reinforced surface, fragments of rock breaking loose and scattering across the floor.
"What—?!"
The guards lunged forward.
Too slow.
By the time they moved, Noah was already standing there, one hand tangled in Diana's hair, dragging her upright as if she weighed nothing.
Her composure cracked for the first time.
"…Who are you?" she demanded, breath uneven.
Noah tilted his head.
"Me?"
He smiled faintly.
"Someone here to clean up the mess."
Her eyes flashed.
"You think that makes you a god?"
"No," Noah said.
Then, casually:
"I am one."
She moved.
A punch, fast and precise, aimed straight for his chest.
Noah caught it easily.
Her strength meant nothing to him.
"I'm stronger than anything you believe in," he added.
Then he slammed her into the ground.
The impact cratered the floor beneath her, sending cracks racing outward.
Before she could recover, he pulled her back up—
And drove her down again.
Then pinned her in place with a foot, forcing her into the fractured earth.
"Let's go meet your husband," Noah said.
He grabbed her again, lifting her as if the fight had never happened.
"Because this whole mess?"
His voice turned colder.
"Started with the two of you."
In the ocean depths, inside an Atlantean command vessel—
Arthur Curry stood at the center of the bridge, issuing orders.
"Prepare to fire," he said. "We end this here."
Then—
Something appeared.
Right in front of him.
No warning.
No distortion.
Just—
There.
A young man.
Holding someone by the hair.
Arthur's eyes locked onto the figure.
And widened.
"…Diana?"
Noah shifted his grip slightly, presenting her without ceremony.
"That's her," he said.
Then looked at Arthur.
"This war's over."
Arthur's expression hardened instantly.
"Let her go."
His voice dropped, heavy with restrained fury.
Noah didn't move.
Arthur didn't wait.
The trident struck forward in a blur, aimed straight at Noah's chest.
It hit.
And stopped.
The impact rang out like metal against metal.
Arthur froze.
Noah stepped forward, closing the distance himself.
Then—
He raised his hand.
And slapped him.
Hard.