Marvel Login System (Rewrite)

About a month had passed since Arthur had been officially approved by Antiope. During this period, a curious routine had been established: Diana would often come to his room, pulling him—almost dragging him—to the training field. Interestingly, the dynamic between them had shifted: at first, it had been Arthur who took the initiative to seek her out for their training. Now, it was Diana herself who naturally and frequently sought his company.

Their training sessions focused almost entirely on hand-to-hand combat, since Arthur was, in his own words, completely useless when it came to handling swords. He couldn't even pretend to have any skill with a blade, something that made him laugh but also kept him attentive to his strengths.

Considering that it would take a long time for Diana to master any of his more complex martial arts, Arthur decided to teach her more straightforward and effective styles such as Boxing, Muay Thai, and Jiu-Jitsu. He even considered adding Taekwondo or Capoeira to the repertoire, but quickly dismissed the idea: while beautiful and impressive, these techniques didn't suit the pragmatic fighting style Diana would need outside Themyscira.

As the weeks passed, Arthur could perceive significant changes. Diana's strikes became increasingly precise and controlled, replacing the instinctive savagery from before with refined, yet still powerful, technique.

When their training ended, a new ritual would emerge: they walked together to the shore, where they would sit or simply stand side by side, their feet touching the water, while they talked about everything and nothing at the same time. They spoke about cultures, wars, philosophy, and sometimes just enjoyed the comfortable silence that grew between them.

Despite their conversations, Arthur kept a quiet unease to himself: he had no idea what exact year it was. He could very well have landed there shortly before the First World War... or perhaps hundreds of years earlier... or even decades ahead, in a future he couldn't foresee. That uncertainty unsettled him, especially because he didn't know if the world he knew still existed beyond those waters.

The closeness between him and Diana was becoming increasingly evident, not just to them, but to all the Amazons who observed them. It didn't take long for curious comments and glances to begin circulating among the warriors. Some openly wondered about the nature of their relationship.

Then, one afternoon, Arthur finally obtained an important clue about where exactly he was in the timeline: he discovered that Ares had not yet been defeated by Diana. This detail, seemingly small, was enough for him to deduce that he was at some point before or during the First World War—reinforcing his initial suspicion.

This realization affected him deeply. His coexistence with Diana, the silent bond they had cultivated, and the admiration he felt for her strength and indomitable spirit, stirred in him an intense desire to help her—even without knowing exactly when or how he would do so.

That day, the sun shone generously over Themyscira, as it almost always did, casting golden reflections upon the calm waters surrounding the island. The sea breeze carried the salty scent of the ocean, mingling with the sweet aroma of the local flowers.

Arthur walked leisurely along the beach, his feet sinking lightly into the warm, soft sand. This habit of walking the shore had become one of his small daily pleasures, a way to relax and, at the same time, avoid certain... looks.

He wore only the lower part of his improvised armor; the upper part, uncomfortable and heavy, he had abandoned days ago, preferring to leave his chest exposed to the sun's heat and the caress of the wind.

As he walked, he knew that Diana was busy with another training session with Antiope. Though Arthur was skilled in various combat techniques, he recognized without hesitation: when it came to swordsmanship, he was utterly useless. He left that part to Antiope, who, by the way, seemed more than satisfied to take on the role of mentor in that discipline.

Another reason—perhaps less noble—for his long solitary walks was to escape the growing attention from the Amazons. The number of longing glances and veiled insinuations only increased over time, and Arthur wasn't entirely confident that he could resist the temptation represented by so many beautiful and strong women indefinitely.

Lost in his thoughts, Arthur then heard a different sound—a rhythmic, metallic hum that contrasted with the natural tranquility of the environment.

He looked up.

"That's…" he murmured, his eyes widening.

The aircraft, now out of control, was rapidly plunging toward the Themysciran sea, releasing columns of smoke as it lost altitude.

And then, everything became clear. He knew exactly where he was in the timeline.

"It can't be…" he whispered, almost breathless.

The scene unfolding before his eyes was far too familiar. He knew it by heart: it was the beginning of the Wonder Woman movie. The plane... Steve Trevor... the crash… Everything fit perfectly.

Without wasting any time, Arthur sprinted across the sand, his heart pounding. He launched himself into the water with a precise dive, plunging and surfacing with force, swimming as fast as he could toward the aircraft that was sinking deeper by the second.

The cold water enveloped him, but he barely noticed. His eyes were fixed on the figure struggling inside the aircraft's cockpit: Steve Trevor, desperately fighting against the seatbelt that held him in place.

Seeing Arthur approaching, Steve began to gesture frantically, the panic evident in his eyes.

Arthur didn't hesitate. He swam to the plane, grabbed the door firmly, and forced it with all his strength until he managed to create enough space to get in. Then, he tore the seatbelt with a violent tug and grabbed Steve by the arms, pulling him out of the flooded cabin.

The two emerged with a splash, Arthur supporting the weight of the other man as he swam back to the surface.

As soon as they broke into the open air, Steve coughed convulsively, struggling to catch his breath.

"Cough... cough!" he gasped, spitting out the salty water and clutching Arthur's shoulder tightly.

Arthur smiled slightly, relieved that he had managed to pull him out in time.

"Easy, you're safe," he said, his voice firm but gentle.

Steve just nodded, still unable to speak.

(End of chapter)

"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."

So I want to let you know that I didn't post anything yesterday because something very annoying happened with a friend of mine. Do you know what an annoying situation is? Multiply that by ten times. Anyway, I had to spend a lot of time helping her and I didn't have time for anything else.