Steve Trevor never expected Leon to intervene.
Everything this man did carried deeper meaning.
So far, this war remained within the realm of mankind. As a human, Steve only needed to do what a human ought to do.
That was how he saw it.
If he performed well enough, perhaps he might even earn some sort of divine blessing someday. Not a bad prospect at all.
Afterward,
Steve brought Leon and Diana to a bar to meet his "associates." Since the Secretary of War refused to authorize manpower, he would find his own. There was always a solution.
"This is Sameer."
Steve introduced him to Leon and to Diana, who was curiously surveying the lively bar.
When Steve found the short, somewhat sleazy-looking man—dressed in a surprisingly respectable linen suit—Sameer was animatedly boasting to a table of strangers.
In reality, he was just freeloading drinks.
"Oh my God."
"You two are works of art."
Sameer stared in awe at Leon's physique—like a statue from ancient Greece—and Diana's Aphrodite-like beauty. After hugging Leon, he attempted to embrace Diana as well.
But it was as though an invisible hand had caught him by the collar. He simply couldn't move forward.
Invisible beside him, Arcee (A2 Mode) held him effortlessly with one hand, while 2B stood nearby with Virtuous Treaty resting a mere centimeter from his neck.
Earlier, in the War Cabinet chamber, Leon had kept the two women at a distance to avoid Ares detecting them, maintaining only remote surveillance. Only after he no longer sensed Ares' gaze did he allow them to rejoin.
After introductions, Steve explained:
"He's a high-level operative. His specialty is languages—fluent in more dialects than your average debutante."
"Oh? Is that so?"
Leon raised a brow, amused.
"Do you speak Japanese?"
"Yes, but only a little." (In Japanese.)
Sameer replied smoothly, flashing an exaggerated pose.
"What about… backwards?" Leon asked.
Activating Absolute Thought Acceleration, Leon had Arcee translate his English into Japanese, reverse the audio, and play it through his Bluetooth link. He carefully repeated the sounds one syllable at a time.
"Uh…"
"Sorry, could you say that again?"
Sameer blinked. He couldn't even identify the language. It sounded like someone speaking Russian with a mouth full of water.
"If you're weak, practice more," Leon said in Chinese.
"Alright, you win. No wonder Steve calls you 'big brother,'" Sameer replied in Chinese.
Steve wasn't surprised in the least that Leon "knew" multiple languages.
"Where's Charlie?" he asked.
"Over there. Knocking someone out."
Sameer pointed toward the bar, where a bald brute was hammering someone with vicious hooks.
"His punches are decent," Diana observed approvingly.
"That's not Charlie," Steve said, rubbing his forehead.
"What?"
Diana looked startled.
Steve redirected Sameer's finger—to the scrawny, ragged man being knocked out by the bald brute.
"Ora!"
A heavy punch slammed into Charlie's face. His eyes rolled back, and he dropped flat to the floor.
Diana immediately lowered her expectations.
"Well… Charlie's a sniper," Steve added quickly. "Not on Miss 2B's level, of course. But he has his strengths. Hand-to-hand just isn't one of them."
…
They sat to discuss the operation. As before, Arcee and 2B faded discreetly from notice.
"What?"
"You're joking, right?"
"I can believe this gentleman could handle himself. But that beautiful lady? She doesn't look like field material."
Charlie gulped down his beer.
"Trust me," Steve said.
"She could take a hundred of you without breaking a sweat."
"Really? I don't buy it," Sameer and Charlie chimed in.
At that moment, the bald brute from earlier approached, pistol drawn, aiming directly at Diana while spouting misogynistic insults.
"Women should stay at home! This is no place for you!"
In one smooth motion, Diana disarmed him—then sent him flying over ten meters with a single side kick. He crashed to the ground and didn't move.
Crack.
The nearly all-metal pistol crumpled in her hand like soft clay.
She returned to her seat with perfect composure.
Sameer swallowed.
"I'm both excited and terrified."
"Your enemy should be the one terrified," Charlie said sheepishly, raising his glass to Diana.
She politely returned the gesture—but after one sip, set it down. The beer tasted dreadful. Compared to the milk tea Leon had given her before, this was…
"Here. Try this," Leon said, offering her a vanilla ice cream cone.
Diana took a cautious lick.
Her eyes lit up instantly.
Heaven.
Moments ago she had been imposing and fierce. Now she leaned gently against Leon, content as he patted her head, holding the cone like a treasured relic.
Sameer and Charlie stared in disbelief.
"I need to learn that kind of magic someday…"
"Yes, yes…"
Tears pooled in their eyes.
"But who's funding this operation?" Sameer asked. "You know Charlie and me, Steve. Coins don't stay in our pockets overnight."
"Our friendship doesn't print money."
He casually plucked another beer from a passing tray without being noticed.
"Oh! Sorry I'm late."
Etta Candy bowed apologetically—and behind her stood an unexpected guest.
"Sir?!"
Steve snapped to attention—then relaxed slightly upon remembering Leon and Diana were present.
Sameer and Charlie trembled so badly they spilled their drinks.
"No need for formality. Please, sit."
Sir Patrick Morgan approached, removing his hat.
"Mr. Odinson. Miss Prince."
He greeted Leon and Diana politely, ignoring the other two entirely.
"I assume what you're plotting here could land you in court-martial—or killed. Perhaps even jeopardize the impending armistice."
"You're here to stop us?" Steve asked.
"No."
"Not entirely."
Patrick smiled faintly.
"I was young once. If my body allowed it, I'd do the same."
"What you're attempting is honorable. I'm here to help."
"As a private citizen, I stand with you."
Steve, Sameer, and Charlie instantly felt reassured.
Diana, who had begun losing faith in human leadership, softened slightly.
"You've made the right choice, Sir Patrick."
"The honor is mine, Miss."
He inquired about their plan.
"We locate and destroy the last munitions factory. Eliminate Ludendorff and Dr. Maru."
"In that case, Miss Candy may operate from my office to avoid Allied suspicion. And this…"
He slid over an envelope nearly an inch thick.
"Should sustain you comfortably for a month."
Steve didn't even need to look.
Sameer and Charlie stared wide-eyed.
Money was a beautiful thing.
…
At the ferry crossing to German-occupied Belgium,
Diana witnessed countless wounded soldiers returning from the front—men missing limbs, supported by comrades.
Others clutched personal belongings of the dead and wept.
The devastation only strengthened her resolve to end the war.
…
Meanwhile,
German High Command debated armistice terms when General Ludendorff barged in, pitching his new gas weapon.
But the leadership was resolute. They lacked ammunition, food, medicine. Thousands were dying every hour. Germany could not endure.
"One more battle and we win!"
"Then we'll have everything instead of begging our enemies!"
Ludendorff roared.
"Enough!"
"We tolerated you and your witch long enough!"
"It's because of you that the world stands against us!"
"Chemical supremacy was always a fantasy. In twenty-four hours this war ends. Prepare for tribunal!"
The Chancellor dismissed him.
"Is that so?"
"For you, it ends."
"For me… it's just beginning."
Outside, Ludendorff signaled Dr. Maru.
She tossed a gas grenade into the chamber.
Ludendorff threw in a gas mask before slamming the iron door shut.
"They know the masks won't work," Maru whispered.
"But they don't."
He smiled coldly.
Through the glass window, Maru watched the officials convulse—flesh blackening, collapsing into grotesque remains.
She trembled in exhilaration.
…
Night.
After arriving on Belgian shores and meeting their smuggler ally, Chief, the group made camp in a small forest.
Wherever they traveled, Diana could smell gunpowder.
War was everywhere.
"Ares…"
She muttered the name again—relentless in her pursuit.
Leon, by contrast, treated the journey like an oddly romantic excursion—teasing Diana, taking photos by shell craters, picking wildflowers, occasionally replenishing 2B's divine energy in preparation for the coming battle.
As they neared the front lines—and perhaps as Ludendorff prepared to unleash his gas—the War's Rhythm grew stronger.
Leon could feel the passive amplification increasing.
Ares likely felt the same.
Let's see whose passive stacks higher in the end, Leon thought with a smile.
He sat beside Diana by the fire and produced a large modern packaged self-heating hot pot from his System Storage Space.
"What is this?"
"Self-heating hot pot."
He tore open the foil, assembling heating packs and ingredients, explaining the chemical reaction that generated heat.
Though not from the "endless" category, he had so many stored it was absurd.
He handed her Vibranium utensils.
Diana lifted a piece of tripe dripping in red oil and placed it in her mouth.
"Ah—!"
"So spicy! So hot!"
"But delicious!"
Her demigod physiology gave her immense heat tolerance, yet she still felt flavor and pain like a normal person.
Sameer and Charlie, chewing dry salted ham, drifted over, lured by the aroma.
"Oh, esteemed Mr. Leon…"
They practically knelt in reverence.
"Have some dignity," Steve scoffed.
"Easy for you to say!"
Yet moments later, Steve "accidentally" stepped on a pebble and fell smoothly to his knees in front of Leon and Diana, extending both hands in silent plea.
Sameer and Charlie were stunned.
The veteran was clearly more experienced.
Diana burst into laughter.
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