Themyscira's skies wept with golden rain by the time Koki and Diana reached the edge of the known lands. This part of the island had no name, no markings on Amazonian maps, no paths cleared by the guard. Even the trees looked older—taller, more gnarled, their leaves a deep shade of violet instead of green. The winds that whispered through their branches carried no warmth, only the scent of forgotten places.
Koki walked beside Diana in silence, his mind still echoing with the voice that spoke to him in the underground temple. The power that stirred inside him since arriving in this world now felt like a door left ajar—something on the other side watching, waiting.
They paused at a stone arch carved into a moss-covered hill. Vines clung to its surface, and strange runes shimmered in pale silver along the border. The entrance led into pure darkness, a corridor where sound seemed to die before it echoed.
"This is it," Diana said, drawing her hand across the runes. The door pulsed once, like a heartbeat. "The Temple of the Silent Oracle."
Koki's brow furrowed. "You've been here before?"
"Once," she replied. "When I was still a child. My mother forbade it—but sometimes, the truth demands a price."
He nodded slowly. "What is this place, exactly?"
Diana turned her gaze toward the corridor. "The Oracle remembers what the gods have tried to forget. Before Olympus, before even Chaos, she existed. She cannot lie—but she also doesn't speak in ways mortals easily understand. She shows... truths. And we must interpret them."
"And what does she want in return?"
Diana looked him in the eyes. "A vision of your greatest fear."
Koki's heart thudded once—hard.
"Come," she said. "We face it together."
They stepped into the darkness.
The corridor twisted deeper into the earth, each step taking them further from the surface and the light of the sun. Torches lit one by one as they walked, but their flames gave no heat, only illumination. The walls grew tighter. The air thickened with magic.
At the end of the path stood a circular chamber, its floor etched with glowing lines that formed a massive eye. In the center was a dais, and atop it—hovering slightly above—was a cloaked figure, floating cross-legged, hood obscuring the face.
The Oracle.
Diana stepped forward, lowering her weapon and bowing her head. "We seek knowledge."
The Oracle's head tilted. No mouth moved, but the voice came—inside their minds, sharp and ancient.
"One comes wrapped in fate. One forged in truth. The silence will speak only when paid."
Koki inhaled deeply and stepped forward. "I'm ready."
"Then bear witness to yourself."
The world exploded in light.
Koki stood in a field.
It looked familiar—too familiar. The red dust. The wide-open sky. The single tree in the distance, bending with the wind. He blinked, and suddenly he was younger. Eleven years old. No suit, no powers, no Themyscira. Just Koki Sarive, barefoot, holding a soccer ball.
A woman called from the small home behind him.
"Koki, time for dinner!"
His mother's voice.
Koki turned, stunned. "Mom?"
But the memory was already shifting.
The sky darkened, not from nightfall, but from something descending. A massive shadow stretched across the land. Screams echoed from the village. People ran—people he knew. Friends, neighbors. His mother.
And then—he was back in his current body, watching as he appeared.
A different version of him.
Hair white. Eyes glowing gold and spewing light. Chest emblazoned with the full, pulsing symbol of Infinity.
He wasn't saving anyone.
He was destroying everything.
Buildings crumbled with a wave of his hand. People screamed and turned to ash. The power that had once protected him now consumed the world around him. Even his voice had changed—deeper, distorted.
"I gave them peace," said the dark Koki. "You cling to weakness."
"No," Koki whispered. "That's not who I am."
The other him turned, golden eyes narrowing. "Not yet."
And with that, the ground cracked—and the real Koki fell—
He gasped awake, kneeling in front of the Oracle once more, sweat pouring down his face. Diana stood beside him, steadying him with one hand.
"Breathe," she said gently. "It's over."
He looked up at the Oracle, who now hovered lower, her hands raised and glowing. A new vision—less violent, but far stranger—entered his mind.
He saw a great tree, taller than mountains, its branches stretching across galaxies. It held the stars like fruit, its roots twisting through dimensions. Beneath the roots, a crystal heart—cracked, leaking golden light.
And inside it… Infinity.
But not just a power.
A being.
Trapped. Writhing. Screaming in silence.
And then came words:
"You are not its wielder. You are its jailer."
Koki fell back, stunned. "I don't… understand."
Diana's expression had changed. "Infinity isn't a gift," she said quietly. "It's a prisoner. And the gods didn't give it to you to make you powerful."
"They gave it to me to keep it locked away," Koki breathed.
The Oracle's voice echoed once more:
"The prison weakens. The cracks grow. To understand your enemy, you must know your origin."
Koki rose to his feet, the weight of revelation pressing on him like gravity. "I need to know more. Who created Infinity? Who locked it away?"
The Oracle raised one hand, a swirl of images appearing above her palm—flashes of old gods, of crumbling titans and universes consumed by light.
"Seek the Forge Beyond Time," she intoned. "Where gods were born and monsters unmade."
The vision vanished. The Oracle withdrew into silence.
The torches dimmed.
Diana bowed once more. "We are grateful."
She turned to Koki, her eyes burning not with pity, but respect. "You held strong. That vision could've broken many."
"I almost let it," Koki said honestly. "But I won't run from what I am anymore."
Diana smiled faintly. "Good. Because the real battle hasn't even begun."
Scene Break – Elsewhere
Far from Themyscira, across a rift in time and space, a shadowed realm stirred. Atop a black tower made of the bones of forgotten gods, a hooded figure knelt before a swirling void.
"The boy approaches truth," the voice from the void hissed. "The prison wavers."
"And if he breaks it?" the figure asked, voice feminine, sharp.
"Then he becomes one of us."