Morning sunlight filtered down through miles of blue before a disturbance broke the surface.
A blonde head burst out of the ocean with a sharp inhale.
"Fuck this system portal," Daniel muttered, wiping saltwater from his eyes as he treaded water. "Why does it always open gateways to new worlds in questionable places?"
The first time, it had dropped him midair.
This time, it had decided the bottom of the ocean was appropriate.
He glanced around.
Endless sea in every direction.
No ships. No land. Just horizon and sky.
Daniel floated on his back for a moment, staring upward.
"At least I didn't materialize inside a volcano," he added dryly.
He rose slightly, water rolling off him as he straightened and stood atop the surface as if it were solid ground.
"Now let's see which world I've landed in."
Daniel closed his eyes and expanded his senses outward. His perception stretched for miles in every direction—beneath the sea, across the horizon, into the sky.
Nothing.
No ships. No islands. No life large enough to register. Only endless ocean.
His brow twitched faintly.
"Well… I always wanted to try wandering the sea under the sun," he muttered.
The light reflected sharply off the waves, the heat already settling in. He began walking in a random direction, hands loosely at his sides, steps calm and unhurried as ripples spread outward from his feet.
If there was land, he would find it eventually.
After walking for some time, Daniel felt it.
Not ordinary magic.
Divinity.
It was faint at first, like a distant pulse beneath the sea, but unmistakable—ancient, restrained power woven into something physical.
He slowed.
"Hmmm… there's something ahead."
He narrowed his eyes at the horizon.
The air shimmered.
The ocean distorted like heat over sand, and then—like a veil parting—an island revealed itself in the distance. Towering cliffs. Dense greenery. Hidden, protected.
Daniel's lips curved slowly.
"That feels familiar."
He extended his senses again, brushing against the divine barrier surrounding it. Old magic. Olympian.
"Amazonians," he murmured.
A hidden island of warriors. Blessed by gods.
He exhaled lightly.
"So this is DC."
Before he could take another step, a sharp mechanical roar cut through the sky.
Daniel looked up.
A biplane tore through the clouds—old, World War I era, canvas wings trembling violently. Smoke trailed from its engine. Flames licked along the fuselage.
It was losing altitude fast.
Daniel watched with mild interest.
"Hah. I'm at the beginning of the plot. Convenient."
The plane spiraled downward and slammed into the ocean in a violent explosion of spray and debris.
***
Inside the sinking cockpit, Steve Trevor struggled.
Water rushed in from every direction. The impact had jammed the controls, and his leg was pinned beneath twisted metal. He pulled, but the seat wouldn't budge.
The water kept rising inside the cockpit, cold and heavy, pressing against Steve's chest.
Then—
"You know," an amused voice said calmly, "they say life flashes before your eyes before death. Does it really flash?"
Steve froze.
He turned his head.
He saw a blond man sitting on the surface of the ocean as if it were a dock.
Steve blinked.
The plane stopped sinking.
The downward pull vanished. The wreck hung suspended beneath the surface like it had been hooked from above.
"Who are you?" Steve asked, staring at the impossible figure.
"Me? God of death," the man replied casually.
"A god? And death?" Steve looked again at the way he was seated on the water. The halted descent. The unnatural stillness around him.
It didn't feel like a hallucination.
"So what?" Steve asked, jaw tightening, "my time's up?"
Daniel tilted his head slightly. "Why would you think that?"
Steve shifted in the flooding cockpit, eyes still locked on the man above the water. "Because I'm trapped in a sinking plane, and I'm seeing a god who just said he's responsible for death."
A faint smile touched Daniel's lips.
"Relax. You're not scheduled to die here," he said calmly. "You will die someday—like all humans—but not today. I only stopped because I was bored."
The water around the wreck remained unnaturally still, suspended in place.
Steve stared at him. "Bored?"
"Yes," Daniel replied simply.
Then, with a soft ripple of darkness, a black scythe formed in his hand. Its blade shimmered faintly, not reflecting light but swallowing it.
"Though," Daniel added casually, resting the weapon across his shoulder, "if you truly want me to end things early, I can arrange your afterlife now."
Steve's eyes flicked to the scythe.
He swallowed.
"…I'll pass."
Daniel gave a small nod. "Good choice."
Steve swallowed, eyes still fixed on the scythe. "So… God… can you help me pull me out of this?"
"Okay," Daniel said casually.
The cockpit tore apart without being touched. Steve was yanked free as the damaged plane sank into the depths behind him.
"Alright, Steve," he said calmly, "be prepared for a roller-coaster ride you're about to experience."
Steve blinked water from his eyes. "How do you know my name? And what's a roller coaster?"
"You'll find out," Daniel replied with a faint smile.
Out of the corner of his vision, he saw movement beneath the water—fast, precise.
Before Steve could ask another question, Daniel snapped his fingers.
The ocean vanished.
In the next instant, three figures stood on warm sand.
Steve hit the shore face-first, coughing violently. Diana stood upright a few steps away, confusion flashing across her features. A second ago she had been swimming toward the crashing plane. Now she was on land.
Daniel stood calmly, hands in his pockets, observing the island.
"It really is a good island," he muttered.
A sudden touch interrupted him.
He looked down.
Diana was standing close—very close—her hand pressing against his chest as if confirming something.
Her brows drew together.
"You are a man…" she said slowly, genuine curiosity in her voice, as if this discovery required verification.
Daniel looked at her hand, then at her face.
"Yes," he replied evenly. "Last I checked."
*****
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