[Paradise Island – Themyscira | Date Unknown | Late Morning]
"Source?" Artemis stared at the dazzling motes of golden light drifting through the air. "What is the Source?"
"I've only heard that it functions like a divine mantle," Hippolyta said slowly. "To possess the Source is to inherit the divine station and all the powers that come with it." She frowned, searching her memory. When did I even hear that? Some half-remembered story. I've never seen a god die before, much less witnessed this.
"The Source comes from the Origin Wall."
Jack Kadere's voice cut through the reverent silence, and every head turned toward him.
He was coiling the Lasso of Truth, tucking it back against his hip. With his free hand, he steadied Diana, who rose unsteadily to her feet beside him. Her expression was still layered with confusion—but its nature had shifted. Minutes ago, that confusion had been about his cryptic claim that there was only one of her in any universe. Now it was simpler: embarrassment. She had misunderstood. He hadn't been talking about her at all.
He had been talking about the Lasso.
"What is the Origin Wall?" Hippolyta asked. The name was new to her, and curiosity sharpened her voice despite the carnage around them.
The other Amazons leaned in as well. Even Artemis, still half-stunned, watched him with expectant eyes.
Jack didn't answer. Instead, he gestured lazily toward the golden motes still hovering above Eris's shattered body.
"I killed her. By right, I could absorb this Source and become the new God of Discord." He smiled, thin and dismissive. "But I have no interest in becoming a god I can kill with one punch."
No interest in becoming a god.
Hippolyta blinked. The words didn't seem to fit in her mind. A god. They had all seen Eris fight—seen her power crack the sky and shatter stone and turn warriors to ash with a word. That strength had seemed invincible. Untouchable.
And Jack Kadere had obliterated her with a single blow.
Of course he wouldn't want it, she realized slowly. Why would anyone covet power weaker than what they already possess?
"Artemis."
The red-haired warrior straightened. "Master."
Jack's smile widened. "The Source is yours."
"Mine?" Artemis touched her own chest in disbelief. Her gaze darted instinctively to Diana standing at Jack's side. Why not her? She's the princess. She's the one he—
"Don't want it?"
"No—I mean, yes, but—"
"Where's the decisiveness you had when you swore yourself to me? The conviction you showed when you handed Diana the God-Slaying Sword?" Jack's tone was teasing but edged with impatience. "If you hesitate too long, the Source will return to the Origin Wall on its own."
Artemis's jaw tightened. She took a breath, lifted her chin, and strode toward the swirling motes of light.
Jack watched her go for only a moment. Then he turned, and his gaze landed on Diana.
She barely had time to stiffen before he moved.
His hand closed around her arm, and in one smooth motion he hauled her up and over his shoulder. Her stomach slammed against his collarbone, her legs kicking uselessly as her world inverted.
"Our business isn't finished," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Diana gasped—then caught the expression on her mother's face. Hippolyta's eyes were not full of fury this time. The rage that had burned there hours ago had banked into something more complicated: exhaustion, resignation, a dark and weary acceptance. The other Amazons wore similar looks.
He saved us, Diana thought, the realization bitter in her throat. They saw him save us.
She did not struggle.
---
The bedroom smelled of ocean salt and old stone. Sunlight cut through the high window at a slant, catching motes of dust in the air.
Jack tossed her onto the bed. The mattress groaned beneath her, sheets still rumpled from before.
He was on her in an instant, his weight pressing her into the bedding. Diana shoved against his chest with both palms, forcing a gap between them.
"Wait." Her voice was hard. Controlled. "You can't force me again."
Jack paused, one eyebrow raised.
"I haven't forgiven you," she continued, the words spilling out quick and deliberate. "Not for what you did to Paradise Island. Not for what you made me do. I will never forgive that." She swallowed. "But you saved my people today. So—if you release my sisters and swear to leave Paradise Island in peace—I won't hate you anymore. We can end this here."
Jack stared at her. His head tilted, curious.
"Does that mean everything I've done is wiped clean?" he asked. "Including the part where I used the Lasso to make you confess?"
"Yes."
"I refuse."
Diana blinked. "What?"
"Think about it." His smile was lazy, wolfish. "If I accept your deal, I lose my claim over the Amazons. I don't care about slaves, but I'm clearly getting the worse end of this bargain. And what do I get in return? You not hating me anymore?" He chuckled. "That doesn't mean you'll spread your legs willingly. It just means you'll glare at me slightly less."
His grip tightened on her wrists.
"Right now," he said, his voice dropping, "what I want is you. Why would I give that up for something so worthless?"
"You—"
"Besides." He leaned closer, his breath warm against her cheek. "A bet is a bet. You challenged me. You lost. You agreed to bear my children. Is the princess of the Amazons going to break her word?"
Diana's face twisted. He's using my own honor against me.
"So," Jack murmured, "please—keep hating me."
"No—you can't—"
Her protest broke into a sharp cry as he forced her thighs apart with his knee. She thrashed beneath him, hands scrabbling at his shoulders, nails raking across his skin—but he didn't so much as flinch. His strength was absolute. Her resistance meant nothing.
He tore her garments away with brutal efficiency—the clasps of her armor snapping, the fabric beneath ripping like paper. The cool air hit her bared skin, and she gasped, twisting her hips to close her legs. He caught her ankle and wrenched it aside.
"Stop—" Her voice cracked. "Don't—"
Jack ignored her. He positioned himself between her thighs, one hand pressed flat against her stomach to pin her in place. Diana felt him there—hard, thick, insistent—and her whole body went rigid.
"I hate you," she spat, her eyes burning with unshed tears.
"I know."
He thrust forward.
Diana screamed.
---
He was relentless.
Every time she managed to shove him back an inch, he pinned her harder. Every time she twisted away, he dragged her back by the hips. Her struggles only seemed to excite him more—his breathing roughened, his grip turned bruising, his pace grew punishing.
The wet sounds of their bodies filled the room. Diana's cries pitched higher with every brutal stroke, her hands fisting uselessly in the sheets, her back arching off the bed against her will. She could feel him too deep, stretching her open, forcing her body to yield.
I won't— The thought shattered every time he bottomed out inside her. I won't give him the satisfaction—
But her own voice betrayed her. The gasps she couldn't swallow. The whimpers that escaped between clenched teeth. The low, traitorous moan when he shifted angles and hit something that made her vision blur white at the edges.
Jack laughed against her throat.
"There it is," he murmured.
Diana bit her tongue hard enough to taste copper.
He didn't stop.
---
Afterward, Diana shoved him off her and stumbled out of bed on trembling legs. Her body ached in places she didn't want to acknowledge. Her thighs were slick. Her wrists would bruise.
She rounded on him, one shaking hand raised to point.
"I hate you." Her voice was raw, shredded. "I swear on my name as Amazon princess—I will never rest until I make you pay for this."
Jack rolled onto his back and stretched, utterly relaxed. "So the challenge continues, then?"
Throughout the whole thing, she had resisted. Struggled. Fought him every moment.
And it had only made the conquest sweeter.
There was a reason some men preferred force. Whether the woman beneath you submitted or thrashed, the end result was the same—but the feeling was entirely different. Resistance offered friction. Defiance offered heat. Diana's furious pride made her body a prize worth claiming again and again.
"I hate you."
The words were venom. Diana turned and stormed out, not bothering to repair her torn clothing.
Jack smiled at the ceiling. "That's definitely running from the problem."
---
Diana stopped short the moment she stepped outside.
A crowd had gathered in the courtyard—a loose ring of Amazons surrounding a single seated figure. Artemis sat cross-legged on the flagstones, eyes closed, her body haloed by swirling motes of golden light. The Source drifted around her like embers rising from a fire.
"Is that...?" Diana's voice came out hoarse. She cleared her throat. "Has Artemis absorbed the Source already?"
Hippolyta approached her slowly. "It seems so. She needs time to adapt to the power." Her gaze lingered on Diana's disheveled state—the torn fabric, the reddened marks on her wrists, the way she held herself too carefully. "Diana. Are you... alright?"
No. The word sat in her throat like a stone.
"I'm fine," she said.
Hippolyta sighed and did not press further.
I need to speak with him, Hippolyta thought, watching the doorway Diana had just exited. About Eris. About the gods. About this Origin Wall. A cold premonition settled into her chest. Paradise Island may never be peaceful again.
But she wouldn't seek out Jack Kadere immediately. Not with her daughter's pride still bleeding. Not with Artemis's transformation unfinished. This might be the first time a god was born on Paradise Island's soil—that demanded her attention.
As noon approached, Artemis showed no signs of waking. Jack Kadere emerged from his room, glanced at her glowing form, then began wandering toward the island's outer paths.
Hippolyta intercepted him.
"Allow me to show you the grounds," she said. Her voice was carefully neutral.
Jack studied her for a moment, then shrugged. "Lead the way."
---
Paradise Island was beautiful.
Not beautiful in the manicured, artificial way of human resorts—but beautiful in the way of wild places that had never known roads or industry. Cliffs plunged into seas the color of crushed sapphire. Forests grew thick and tangled, heavy with the smell of cedar and blooming jasmine. Waterfalls roared into crystalline pools where light fractured into rainbows against the mist.
Jack walked beside Hippolyta in comfortable silence, cataloging the sights.
Felicity would love this place, he thought. The hacker had a weakness for dramatic scenery—something about "needing beauty to balance out all the ugly code."
His mind drifted.
The Waverider. The Legends. That ridiculous time-ship flitting through history with a crew of misfits and reformed criminals.
I could take it from them.
Not the whole team—just the ship. Bring Felicity here. Let her swim in those pools and complain about the lack of Wi-Fi.
Jack smiled faintly as Hippolyta pointed out an ancient temple in the distance, its marble columns gleaming white against the green hillside.
The idea lodged itself in his mind and refused to leave.
*******
While some of this is not 100% accurate as per DC lore, note that it is a fanfiction. The author is free to take some creative liberties to get the point across.