The air inside the base was thick with sorrow.
The mission had been a success, but it didn't matter. Not when they had lost Artemis.
Naruto stood near the entrance, his eyes scanning the room as he watched the team process the loss in their own ways. Miss Martian sat with her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking slightly. Superboy stood beside her, fists clenched, his usually stoic face betraying a storm of emotions. Nightwing remained quiet, looking down at the ground, his body stiff with guilt.
Even Lagoon Boy, who usually carried himself with confidence, sat hunched over in the corner, his expression filled with remorse.
Naruto understood.
He had felt this kind of pain before—the loss of comrades, mentors, friends. The first time had been with the Third Hokage, a man he had respected and cared for deeply. It had been the first real loss he had experienced, and the pain had been unbearable.
He had seen that same look in people's eyes back then too. The unspoken blame.
Even if they didn't say it outright, Naruto could feel it.
They think I should have done more.
It wasn't unreasonable.
They had seen his power. By all logic, he should have been able to stop this without any casualties. But Naruto knew the truth. He had held back because he understood Aqualad's real mission. If he had gone all out, the undercover operation would have been ruined.
Still… even knowing that, it didn't make it any easier.
And so, he took the silent blame.
Because if he were in their place, he probably would have felt the same way.
Needing some air, Naruto stepped outside the base and found a spot near the edge of the mountain. The night sky stretched infinitely above him, a comforting vastness that made his troubles feel a little smaller.
He didn't expect company, but soon enough, he heard footsteps.
Connor.
The Kryptonian clone sat down next to him, his usual serious demeanor slightly softer tonight.
Neither spoke for a moment, simply looking up at the sky. Then, Connor broke the silence.
"Are you here to blame me for her death?" Naruto asked without looking at him.
Connor sighed. "No. I just wanted to say… don't take it to heart. It's temporary."
Naruto glanced at him, raising a brow.
"Temporary?"
"You were assigned to protect the rocket," Connor explained. "You couldn't have known everything that was happening on the battlefield. And from your perspective, all the enemies looked the same. It's not your fault you missed it."
Naruto was caught off guard.
"Wow… Thanks, man. I didn't think you'd be so reasonable."
Connor smirked slightly. "I get that a lot."
The two sat in comfortable silence for a while before Naruto spoke again.
"With time, people have to mature eventually, huh?"
Connor nodded.
Naruto chuckled softly. "I wonder if I'm mature… or just naïve."
Connor shrugged. "I guess you've got your own problems."
"Everyone does these days," Naruto admitted. "I just wish for a day when people can live without stress."
Connor hummed thoughtfully. "Not a bad dream… but highly unlikely."
"Maybe," Naruto said, smiling. "But who knows what the future holds?"
Connor leaned back against the mountain, his gaze drifting back up to the sky. Naruto stayed beside him, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty.
He had planned to help with the complicated mess between Superboy, Miss Martian, and Lagoon Boy. But tonight? Tonight wasn't the time for that.
'I'll wait. It would be disrespectful to bring it up now.'
His eyes darkened slightly as a new thought crossed his mind.
'I just hope nothing goes wrong with the undercover mission…'
Naruto had seen too many unknown variables in this world. No matter how strong he had become, he knew that one mistake could change everything.
And for the first time in a long while… he felt uneasy.
While the team struggled with grief, the world did not stop moving.
Far from the sorrowful halls of Mount Justice, Cassandra Sandsmark set foot on the sacred island of Themyscira.
The moment she arrived, she was greeted with honor.
As a daughter of Zeus, the Amazons regarded her with deep respect. Though she had yet to fully master her divine heritage, she carried the blood of Olympus and the potential for greatness.
Today, however, she had come not for praise, but for guidance.
And so, she sought out Donna Troy.
Cassandra found her near the cliffs, riding gracefully atop a powerful black stallion, her bow slung across her back. Donna Troy—the first Wonder Girl, the one who had walked the path before her—was a mirror image of Diana.
Same piercing gaze. Same warrior's aura.
For Cassandra, just being in her presence made her heart race.
It wasn't fear. It was the instinct of a warrior recognizing another true warrior.
Even before her divine powers awakened, Cassandra had always felt the thrill of battle. She had fought, she had explored, she had tested her limits. That was simply who she was.
But lately… something had been bothering her.
It wasn't just about becoming stronger.
It was about who she was.
Compared to the other girls on the team, Cassandra felt different. Too rough. Too wild. Too much like a fighter instead of… well, a girl.
And though she hated to admit it, a small part of her wondered:
Would someone like Connor ever see her that way?
Donna turned to greet her, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Welcome, Cassandra. Are you here for advice or training?"
Cassandra blinked in surprise. "How did you know?"
Donna chuckled as she wiped sweat from her forehead. "Everyone comes for one or the other."
She slid off her horse with effortless grace, leading the beast toward the stables.
Cassandra followed.
"I want to learn more about my powers and how to fight effectively. I need to be stronger if I'm going to help my team."
Donna nodded in approval. "A noble goal. You are welcome to stay, and I will train you personally."
Cassandra felt a surge of excitement. This was it.
Her chance to learn from the best.
Her chance to prove herself.
But before she could say anything else, another question escaped her lips.
"Are you ever coming back?"
The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
Donna froze.
For just a second, the warrior's confidence faltered.
Then, without turning around, she resumed her path toward the stable.
She never answered.
And Cassandra understood.
Some questions were better left unspoken.
The sunset painted Themyscira's sky in brilliant hues of gold and crimson, but for Donna Troy, the beauty of the scene was lost in the storm within her mind.
She stood at the edge of the training grounds, her body still aching from her sparring match with Cassandra Sandsmark.
Not from the battle itself. Physically, she was fine.
But the thoughts—the questions—wouldn't stop.
Cassandra's innocent question had pierced deeper than any sword.
"Are you ever coming back?"
Donna hadn't answered.
She couldn't answer.
The words wouldn't come, not when the weight of her past pressed down on her so heavily.
She had been created as a magical clone of Diana, a childhood companion for the Princess of Themyscira.
But fate had other plans.
A kidnapping gone wrong.
A life stolen from her before she even understood what it meant to truly live.
Memories sealed.
Years spent in confusion, trying to understand where she belonged.
She had fought alongside the Titans, carved out a place in the world as a hero, as Wonder Girl—but tragedy followed her like a shadow.
And then...
The worst day of her life.
The day she failed.
Her husband. Her children.
Gone.
She had been powerless. Helpless.
And so, she had run away.
Back to Themyscira.
A land where she could hide. Where she could pretend that none of it had ever happened.
But standing here now, facing Cassandra—a younger version of herself, brimming with life and determination—Donna felt something deeply unsettling.
Disgust.
Not for the girl.
For herself.
"Truly, I have fallen so low."
She had once been like Cassandra.
Burning with the desire to fight for justice.
To change the world.
So why was she hiding now?
Was it truly fear of failure?
Or had she simply grown weak?
Had the pain broken her?
Was this the woman her family had died for?
Did she even deserve to call herself a warrior anymore?
Her spar with Cassandra had gone on too long.
Donna had pushed harder than necessary, her frustration creeping into every strike, every block, every counter.
When she finally landed the decisive blow, sending Cassandra crashing to the ground, she barely felt any satisfaction.
"That's enough for now," Donna muttered, stepping away.
Her mind was in turmoil, and she knew if she kept going, she might actually hurt the girl.
She wasn't here to vent.
Cassandra wasn't her punching bag.
She turned away, fists clenching, jaw tightening as she struggled to suppress the storm of emotions threatening to break free.
She needed to leave before she did something she'd regret.
As Donna made her way out of the training grounds, a familiar voice called out to her.
"Daughter, is there something you want to talk about?"
Queen Hippolyta stood before her, the wisdom of centuries reflected in her gentle but knowing gaze.
For a brief moment, Donna considered telling her the truth.
That she felt lost.
That she felt like a coward.
That she wasn't sure if she was even worthy of calling herself a hero anymore.
But instead, she forced a smile and shook her head.
"Nothing. I just need a bath."
Before Hippolyta could press further, Donna turned on her heel and walked away.
No—ran away.
As if she could outrun the ghosts of her past.
Hippolyta watched her daughter disappear into the distance and let out a weary sigh.
"Why was fate so cruel to this child?"
Donna had suffered far too much for someone so young.
Even Diana, for all the loss she had endured, had at least lived for centuries before she tasted true grief.
But Donna?
She had been forced to carry the weight of tragedy before she even had a chance to truly live.
"I should ask Diana to speak with her… before this burden crushes her completely."
For now, however, there was another matter to attend to.
She turned toward Cassandra, who was already eagerly preparing for another round.
Her energy untamed, her spirit unbroken.
Hippolyta smiled to herself.
Zeus himself had taken an interest in this girl.
She had fire.
And Themyscira would forge her into something unstoppable.
"Immortals and their whims," Hippolyta thought with a wry smile, before stepping forward to guide the young warrior in the training ahead.