Some thought the ancient myths and legends of Greece to be stories. Lessons to an old forgotten culture to explain what could not be explained rather than hold any real kernel of truth. But then, humanity was blinded by the short sightedness of mortality and if they could not see it, why should they believe it? But she knew the truth behind each story, each myth and magical tale of days long gone. It made it easy to do her job as a curator.

Easier still to want to learn and see each artifact and piece of history that she might not have read on Themyscira. Because she might have accepted the plight and sadness of human mortality, but there was one thing she never let go of. Hope. That belief that someday the boundaries of immortality and those lost would be crossed.

So each of those little notices her research pushed her toward, she followed. Every text she translated lead her to the places she needed to find. Particularly to a little notice, little walked path to the shores of the River of Styx. Where she dared to make her deal and pay her trials. And Hades… he was not so cruel as to deny her a simple demand at his defeat. But souls could not just walk out of the Underworld. Life always required more work than that.

And the promise was to release his soul to a body remade… if she could find a way to revive that body with no life. So she searched and scoured till she took the blood from the gorgon’s right side, the answer to that one task Hades laid before her. Now? For all her power, learning, and abilities… now she simply had to wait.

Diana had waited over ninety years living on a small sliver of hope. But the tension in her stomach and the nerves that fluttered in her chest told her that waiting now was far harder.