For a split second, Malrick had a strange misconception.
He couldn't help but feel that Kara was a bit like Jarvis—always loyal to Tony. Jarvis had always been like that. Whatever Tony said, he believed it. Whatever Tony wanted done, even if it was questionable, he would execute it after giving his opinion—completely, faithfully, and without hesitation.
But it wasn't that Malrick thought Kara was his housekeeper. It was that Kara's trust in him had reached an astonishing level—almost immeasurable. Being gazed at by Kara's clear, sincere eyes, so full of quiet faith, gave him a faint sense of guilt. Even though he wasn't actually lying, her pure trust made him feel undeserving of it.
With that uneasy feeling, he looked away, removed his white protective suit, and opened the door.
"Alright, that's settled. Let's go—it's time to leave."
Outside, the faint smell of disinfectant lingered in the air beneath the pale glow of street lamps. But this wasn't a real street. It was inside Tony's World Ring—a pocket dimension of Tony's design.
After the battle with Dormammu, Malrick had custom-made a pair of dimensional rings for Tony and Pepper. The world inside the ring was small, without a sun, only a barren wilderness with scattered vegetation and minerals. Tony had built a secret base there—complete with a suit production line, research labs, medical rooms, and even entertainment systems. Kara's surgery had been performed here, in one of the sterile rooms.
Stepping out, Malrick scanned the area, confirming Tony had already left the small world. Normally, people couldn't stay here long. Without sunlight, every light source came from Tony's arc reactors. The whole place had a desolate, Victorian-industrial feel. The rumble of machinery and automated production echoed faintly in the distance, while Jarvis's sub-systems tirelessly built armor after armor. Malrick never liked staying too long here. A world without sunlight was suffocating—especially for a Kryptonian.
Kara instinctively reached out and held Malrick's wrist. A thought flickered through his mind—and in an instant, the bleak mechanical world around them vanished.
They reappeared in a luxurious hotel suite in Gotham. Sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, warm and golden. Outside, cicadas buzzed lazily, their sound filling the summer air. It was hard to believe such a tranquil afternoon could exist in Gotham.
"Kara," Malrick said, stretching in front of the window, "it's still early. You should go out and explore. You've been on Earth for years, but you haven't really seen what it's like. Gotham has its dark sides, but it's also full of life."
Holding the Life Codex in his hand, he felt a rare sense of contentment. Everything seemed brighter now—even Gotham appeared gilded in sunlight.
Kara watched him quietly. "I will. Are you… going to rest, like Tony?"
"I don't need to." Malrick chuckled. "Rest is for mortals like Tony. For Kryptonians, just basking in the sun is enough." He winked, teasingly.
Kara smiled faintly, though her gaze lingered on him for a few seconds longer before drifting to the view outside. She looked like a curious child seeing something new for the first time—excited yet hesitant.
Malrick laughed and rubbed his forehead. "Sorry, I can't go with you today. I've got an appointment to keep—one that's been ninety years overdue."
Time travel with Tony—from World War I to World War III—had been instantaneous for them. But on the other side of the world, beyond the Black Sea and near the Aegean, a woman had been waiting for him for ninety long years. She wasn't like Captain and Peggy Carter—there was no promised dance or lingering goodbye. Yet Diana had waited all the same. Every evening, she would sit on the cliffs of Paradise Island, looking out toward the horizon where he had vanished.
For the past week, Malrick had been working with Tony to refine the Life Codex extraction device. Once their mission here was complete, he planned to meet the woman who had never stopped waiting.
"An appointment?" Kara asked, surprised. "Didn't you and Tony just arrive here a week ago?"
Because of Malrick, Kara had gotten close to Tony as well. Despite Tony's mock complaints about his "reckless little brother" charming another woman, he treated Kara kindly, almost like family. Most of what Kara knew about Malrick came from Tony, which made her all the more curious now.
"An appointment," Malrick said simply, "a promise made ninety years ago." He waved casually. "I'm heading out. Go explore, and have fun. Just—try not to punch anyone too hard if they bother you."
And before Kara could respond, he vanished.
If she knew where he was going, she'd have wanted to follow him. But Malrick couldn't bring himself to take her. Diana had waited ninety years for him. Showing up with another woman by his side—that would be thoughtless, even cruel.
---
The Black Sea. Paradise Island.
The sun was setting into the water, and the sea breeze brushed through the trees, turning the leaves a fiery orange-red. Diana sat on the cliff's edge, gazing into the endless horizon. Her heart mirrored the waves below—rising, falling, breaking, and returning again.
"Diana, it's almost dark. Come back inside; dinner's ready," Queen Hippolyta called from behind her.
"You go ahead, Mother. I'll come later." Without turning around, Diana picked up a pebble and flicked it toward the sea. The small stone shot forward like a bullet, skipping across the water before disappearing beneath the waves.
"I'll stay a little longer… maybe Malrick will come today," she murmured.
Hippolyta sighed softly. "Still waiting? After all these years? Maybe he's forgotten, child. Ninety years is a lifetime for mortals."
"He hasn't," Diana said firmly. "He told me he'd travel through time to the future. It just… isn't the right time yet." She puffed her cheeks stubbornly, throwing another stone—this one slicing through the air like a torpedo, bursting the water's surface.
She said he would come, and she believed it with all her heart. Yet the longer she waited, the deeper her feelings grew—both longing and quiet resentment twined together.
For someone who had lived thousands of years, ninety shouldn't have meant much. But this wasn't like the centuries she had spent carefree and content. These were ninety years of waiting. Ninety years of hope and silence.
Every day, she came to this same spot—waiting for Malrick to appear, to hold her, to tell her it had all been worth it. But he never came.
---