Bruce was left in deep thought, Orach's words and the scenario he presented reverberating in his mind. Hal waited until Orach was out of sight before he spoke, "Bruce, I think he's right. But, I'll respect your decision if you choose to present the current draft as our charter."
Bruce nodded in acknowledgment. But he felt that a decision of this magnitude required the opinion of everyone involved. So, he decided to arrange a video call at a later time for a more comprehensive discussion. For now, he forwarded the charter draft he had shown to Victor, Hal, and Orach to the other JLA members for their perusal and feedback.
Victor and Hal shared a moment of amicable goodbyes, their figures taking to the sky and parting ways, each heading towards their homes. Meanwhile, Orach returned to the tranquility of the garden, a serene setting that belied the intensity of the training that was about to commence. He began with a series of warm-up exercises, his muscles stretching and contracting rhythmically, preparing for the exertion to come.
Ascending into the air, he stabilized himself at an altitude of around 30 feet. Taking a deep, calming breath, he brought both his hands to the level of his diaphragm, and then punched out. He commenced with slow, shadow boxing, methodically increasing his speed while incorporating kicks into his routine. He continued this disciplined regimen until he felt he had a firm understanding of the light gravity of this world, and how to modulate his movements to prevent excessive exertion.
Once he felt prepared, he closed his eyes and conjured up an image of his father. Despite his father's outwardly peaceful demeanor, Orach knew him to be a born fighter and a formidable adversary. He had been trained by both his parents, but he had always preferred his sessions with his father. His father never held back in their spars, even if it meant facing the wrath of his mother upon seeing her son's bruised face. Orach knew his parents shared a deep love for each other. Still, he couldn't help but worry every time he saw his mother's reaction to his bruised face, a testament to the intensity of their training sessions.
With the mental image of his father firmly in his mind, a smirk played on Orach's face. His eyes still closed, he initiated the attack. This method of training, known as image training, was a standard practice introduced to the warriors of Sadala by his father.
In image training, the fighter closes their eyes and visualizes an opponent. They then imagine themselves engaging in combat with this imaginary adversary, which helps them anticipate how an actual battle against said opponent would unfold. Image training is incredibly beneficial as it allows one to gain combat experience and devise new strategies. It also offers the flexibility to train virtually anywhere, even in environments not conducive to traditional physical training, such as confined spaces.
Orach, lost in his mental battle, started to punch and kick in the air. The smirk on his face gradually transformed into a determined grimace as the imaginary fight intensified. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, his heart pounding in rhythm with his movements. His muscles strained and relaxed, strained and relaxed, each movement bringing him closer to the imaginary enemy. The wind howled around him, the only witness to his solitary battle.
As the image training continued, Orach found himself delving deeper into his memories, recalling the countless sparring sessions with his father. He remembered his father's stern gaze, the strength of his every punch and kick, the sound of his voice encouraging him to push past his limits. These memories fueled his resolve, pushing him to train harder, to become stronger. And so, in the solitude of the garden, Orach continued his relentless training, a solitary figure fighting an invisible enemy, driven by the memory of his father and the desire to become the best warrior he could be.
Greece - Athens - International Airport
After enduring a grueling ten-hour flight, Wonder Woman, or Diana as she was known in her civilian life, finally touched down in the vibrant city of Athens. As she navigated the bustling airport, her senses were instantly filled with the familiar sights and sounds of her adopted city. She collected her luggage with purposeful strides, her movements oozing with an understated grace that turned heads.
She secured a taxi and started her journey home, eager for the comforting solitude of her Athens residence. There, she could freshen up and change into a fresh set of clothes. Her quaint, charming house, nestled in a posh and quiet part of the city, served as her sanctuary in this bustling metropolis.
Arriving at her residence around 9 am, she compensated the taxi driver and walked up to her front door. She unlocked her home, stepping inside while sliding off her jacket and hanging it neatly on the coat rack. She placed her suitcase to the side, and her professional glasses and keys found their place in a bowl on a nearby table.
In the serene sanctuary of her bedroom, she granted herself the permission to relax, to let the burdens of the day slip off her shoulders. She settled into a plush velvet chair, a piece of furniture that seemed to embrace her in its comforting hold. The room was dimly lit, the soft lighting casting a warm, inviting glow on her face.
She reached down to her feet, her slender fingers deftly undoing the straps of her finely-crafted shoes. Each strap released was like discarding a weight she'd been carrying all day. The shoes dropped to the floor, forgotten, the echo of their landing a testament to the silence of the room.
Next, her attention shifted to the crisp, white shirt that clung to her figure. Her fingers danced over the buttons, each one surrendering under her touch. As she moved from one button to the next, they revealed more of her. The smooth expanse of her clavicle became visible, followed by the subtle swell of her bosom hidden beneath a delicate lace bra, and finally, her well-toned abdomen came into view. The shirt, now completely unbuttoned, was carefully shrugged off and placed aside.
A moment of pause lingered in the air, filled with the soft rustle of fabric and the quiet rhythm of her breathing. She then reached for her belt, the cool metal buckle clicking as she unlatched it. The belt slipped free, leaving her trousers unsecured. Standing up, with a grace that seemed inherent, she slid the trousers down her shapely legs.
The trousers pooled at her feet, leaving her standing there in her exquisite lingerie. She then picked up her trouser and the removed shirt and head towards the bathroom, where her clothes were discarded in the laundry basket. The dim light of the bathroom painted her body in soft shades, accentuating her curves and the smoothness of her skin. She then reached behind her, her fingers tracing the clasp of her bra.Holding the straps of her bra, she slowly slid them off her shoulders, the fabric trailing down her arms. The room was silent as the bra fell from her hands, the only sound being the soft rustle of fabric hitting the floor. Standing there, her blessed bosom bared to the tranquility of her bathroom, she felt a surge of liberation.
She gracefully and unhurriedly slid off her panties and placed them in the laundry basket. Then, she stepped into the shower area of her bathroom.
She turned on the shower, the sound of running water adding to the tranquility of the moment. The initial burst of cold water against her skin was a delightful shock, causing her to gasp softly. As she adjusted to the temperature, the water felt like a gentle caress on her skin, washing away any remaining fatigue from her journey.
She stood under the shower, letting the water cascade down her body, tracing the contours of her figure. The droplets trickled down her breasts, her abdomen, down her legs and onto the tiled floor, each one a soothing touch against her skin.
She reached for her favorite body wash, its familiar scent filling the room. With the loofa in her hand, she started to apply the soap onto her body, her movements slow and deliberate. The feeling of the loofa against her skin was a sensual experience, the soft foam adding to the feeling of relaxation. Once fully lathered, she rinsed off the soap, cleansing her body. She ran shampoo through her hair, followed by a conditioner, indulging in this moment of self-care.
After a refreshing 15-minute bath, she turned off the shower.
Once she was done showering, she stepped out, reaching for the plush towel hanging by the side. Wrapping it around her body, she felt the soft fabric against her skin, the warmth enveloping her. She patted her body dry, the towel absorbing the droplets of water on her skin. She then grabbed another towel, gently patting her hair dry. Following this, she brushed her teeth, ridding herself of any residual fatigue.
Donning a fresh set of lingerie and a comfortable sundress, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. She looked at herself in the mirror, her wet hair hanging loosely around her shoulders, her skin glowing under the soft light, and she couldn't help but smile. She was Diana, the woman underneath the Wonder Woman, and she was content.
As she prepared to journey back to Themyscira, she packed a suitcase with enough clothes for her stay. Once dressed, she moved to her kitchen, whipping up a quick yet nutritious breakfast.
After her meal, she collected her suitcases, locking her house behind her. With a sense of anticipation, she took to the skies, leaving behind Athens as she journeyed towards her beloved Themyscira, ready to embrace whatever awaited her in her homeland.
After three hours of soaring through the sky, Diana finally crossed the mystical veil that kept Themyscira, the paradise island, hidden from the rest of the world. As her feet touched the familiar sands of the beach, her heart swelled with a sense of homecoming.
"I'm home!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing through the tranquil air, stirring the nearby palm leaves. However, as she slowly made her way towards the city center, past marble statues and lush gardens, she couldn't help but notice an unusual tension hanging in the air. Her mind went back to her mother's words about Steppenwolf's assault, and a feeling of dread started creeping in. Deciding not to waste any more time, she leaped into the air, her powerful legs propelling her upwards. From the high vantage point, she could see her Amazon sisters, donned in their battle armors, either training with fierce determination or preparing their supplies. The entire island was bracing up for a war. This sight only added to her anxiety. She quickly arrived at the royal palace, her heart pounding in her chest.
The palace guards, standing tall and alert, recognized their princess immediately. Their faces lit up with joy and relief. They escorted their returned sister into the grand throne room and announced her arrival. There was a stunned silence in the room as everyone turned to look at her, but it quickly gave way to sounds of joy and relief as they all realized their sister and daughter had returned safe and sound.
"I'm back!" Diana greeted her Aunt Antiope and mother, Queen Hippolyta. Both of them beamed at her and in unison, they said, "Welcome back, Diana."
"Mother, Aunt, can you explain why the whole nation feels like it's preparing for war?" Diana asked, her brows furrowed in worry.
"Diana, just yesterday we felt an immense aura coming from the land of man. We had felt nothing like it before. That aura far surpassed even that of Zeus. So, we decided to prepare ourselves for a possible war to support you in battle on a moment's notice against this threat," Hippolyta explained, her face solemn. Antiope and the other two generals, Philippus and Artemis, present in the room nodded in agreement.
Diana's heart filled with warmth at the sight of her home, her sisters ready to support her on the front lines. However, hearing about an aura greater than Zeus, the image of Orach appeared in her mind. Unknowingly, a sweet smile formed on her face, causing a slight confusion among those present. Diana quickly regained her composure and said with a smile, "The threat was dealt with by me and my comrades. However, there was an interesting development on the battlefield." A mischievous smirk appeared on her face as she finished.
"Development? Do tell, daughter," Hippolyta urged, curiosity piqued.
Diana then narrated the events that had unfolded on the battlefield. She spoke of the champions of Earth coming together, strategizing, and standing united against the enemy. She spoke of Orach's arrival, his formidable strength, his unique worldview, their group's interaction, and finally her connection with Orach.
"Wait! What do you mean your divinity was refined and took the hue of this Orach?" Queen Hippolyta, a symbol of strength and beauty, asked alarmingly. Seated on her throne, her elegant form and mature sensuality bore testament to her royal lineage.
Before Diana could respond, an unexpected visitor made their presence known. "It's exactly what it sounds like, Hippolyta," a commanding, resonant voice echoed throughout the grand chamber, filling the air with electrifying anticipation. This voice, rich in regality, signaled the arrival of an entity of unmatched power and majesty. As its echoes faded, a figure of divine power and exquisite elegance began to materialize, descending from Mount Olympus' lofty heights. It was Hera, queen of the Greek gods and the goddess of women and marriage. Her presence was as captivating as it was imposing, a testament to her divine lineage and potent aura that left everyone in the vast chamber in awe.