When he had gotten home later that day, he was silent. Even when our cook asked a question, he remained silent.

“I was thinking a lamb roast for dinner Mr. Glaine, does that sound to your liking?”

 She spoke in the same hard tone she always did, never showing fear towards my father. I respected her for that. My father however, simply turned away from her and began his trek down the short hallway to the gym. His brief glance in my direction was enough to tell me I was meant to follow, his curled fists meant he intended for us to train.

It was only an hour or so afterwards that I had found myself in my bedroom again, having been sent there until my healing factor completely reversed the injuries my body had taken. It hurt to breathe, my leg was still broken and likely would be for at least another hour, and some of my teeth were regrowing. All the bruises and smaller slashes had already disappeared though, my healing having been trained enough to erase those in a matter of minutes.

My fathers silence had broken while we were training that day, not immediately, but after I had finally landed a hit, pushing him backwards a few feet, he had begun to vent.

“That bitch stole my kill,” he said, landing a kick to my side.

I had not responded at the time, just climbed back to my feet from where I fell at his.

“I held up the whole damn bridge! She takes out some wannabe mage and suddenly it's her victory” 

I blocked the next blow to my face, and lashed back with my own swipe at his arm. I missed his arm but I still managed to grab hold of and break one of his fingers. Caught unawares from my small victory, he had clocked me in the jaw causing two of my teeth to scatter across the room. 

“She's trying to sabotage me, she sees me as a threat and is trying to push me further down the rankings!”

I stopped thinking about that day's training session after recalling that line. I didn't fully grasp what he meant by it all, just that he was getting rougher, and that saving people and stopping villains meant rising in the ranks. Rising in the ranks meant, well, good things I guess, that was all I really thought of at the time. I didn't know exactly what being high in the rankings meant beyond it being something every hero was after.

At that point in my life, I had fully believed my father would someday reach the top spot. That despite all the obstacles that seemed to be in his way, he would overcome them and be the number one. It took being just like him to realize though, strength would never be enough to get you to the top. Nor would speed like that of Lady Luminous. It took the kind of raw power you could only hope to be born with to stand at the top. From the First Era, that was Harmony. In this era, it's Solarius Sunstrider. In the next, however, a villain would stand at the top.

…

July 22nd, 1998,

My first introduction to hero society was when I was thirteen years old, and in the days leading up to it my father, it would seem, wanted me ready for anything. So our training sessions had grown more intense and my injuries from them more numerous. I believed at the time it was necessary though, every mutation one has is like a muscle, and to train them, you must use them, including my healing. If the wound was particularly grievous, however, I would be told to wait in my room until my skin was once again smooth and unmarred, so as to avoid being seen by staff or visitors. It wasn't dignified to be seen in such a state, my father had once said to me.

The event was a masquerade ball hosted by Providence, the international organization at the forefront of hero society. My father expected me to impress myself upon those who held power in the world and garner a reputation as early as possible. Heroism, as I quickly learned, is nothing but a game of repute and power. Despite my outlook of it all being some game to be played, I still couldn't help but be nervous the night of the event. I had stood in front of my mirror for a long time, wearing ornamental armor similar to my fathers, deciding on what to do with my hair. 

The knock at my door is what had broken me from that trance, a quick ‘come in’ was all it took for the door to swing open at the behest of my father, wearing his own formal armor, who stepped into the room. His eyes had looked me up and down in that moment, taking in the sight of me in my own armor, of my physique despite my young age, built from years of training since I was young. Whatever he had been looking for in that moment, I assume he had found it, because he smiled.

“Do you need help with your hair Diana?” he said, as if my plight that night had been as obvious as the difference between day and night.

“Yes please” was all I said in response. 

There was a creak from the metal bed frame as his six and a half foot form took a seat upon it. There had been a few moments between my response and his next one. Moments he filled by pulling out a long, shallow black box, which he opened to reveal to silver hair sticks shaped like swords. His swords to be exact. It was as he was putting my hair up, pinning my hair in place with the two decorative blades, that he spoke again.

“Someday Diana, you're going to become a great hero. That's why it's important for you to stand out tonight. Only Providence heroes have ever breached the top 10. You need them to see your value if you want to make a name for yourself”.

When the hair sticks were firmly in place he motioned his index in a circle, indicating for me to turn around. I did it slowly, looked at myself in the mirror, and admired how mature I thought I looked despite my age. I almost felt powerful.

“Thank you father, they are lovely” 

Short and formal, just as any response of mine is expected to be. 

“Remember Diana, when you're at the top it's the people that hold you up. If you show your fear or hesitation, they will drop you without a second thought”

“Yes father” is all I seemed to have had to say to him at the time.

When we walked out of the room together, and down to the car, I wish I had known at the time just how wrong he was. About everything.  Instead, I was left to mull over his words with the intensity of a child who believed their parents to be infallible. In the silence of our black SUV limousine, with its tinted bullet proof windows and red rims, I found myself gazing out the window from behind my black and red domino mask. My eyes never really focused on anything, or anyone, in particular, rather, they just took in the city as it passed me by. 

The only time I can recall from that drive with any clarity is when we had drawn near The Crown at the base of Lower Manhattan. There had been a digital billboard beaming down towards the street for all to see, and in big letters it read:

Providence is here to protect YOU!
Donate or Volunteer today!

Despite cringing at the slogan now, when I first saw it back in the 90’s I remember feeling called out. When the billboard image shifted from the slogan to an image of the big three, and I was faced with the eyes of my father and the two heroes he deemed his rivals, I shifted in my seat and forced my gaze from the window and onto the hands of my father.

The details of my fathers hands had become the most interesting thing in the world for a few moments, from the way his black and red plated armor had stopped at the wrists in the form of bracers to leave his hands free for the party, to the heavy calluses present from both his work and his abilities.  I briefly glanced at the finger I had broken which, unsurprisingly, had long since healed leaving no trace of it ever having happened behind.

When the limousine had finally come to a stop outside of The Crown I hadn't been sure how to feel. I'd never really been around large groups of people before then, only my fathers staff and the occasional guest he would have over. On those occasions, I had rarely felt any different than usual, it was always just another day but with one or two extra people in it. This was different, I knew that before I had climbed into the limousine back at the condo. At that moment however, I could feel a pressure behind my sternum and my throat was far drier than it had been a moment prior. My mind told me that illness was the only possible cause, but I couldn't tell my father that. He would have made me go on whether I was sick or not, better to enter the party with a sense of dignity. 

I chose to focus on what was ahead of me at the time, rather than on what I assumed was in increasingly worsening condition. The Crown was an impressive building despite not being nearly as tall as those nearby, reaching only about five stories. I couldn't see it from my seat, but I knew The Crown was constructed in a circular shape, with a hollow middle containing a courtyard and tall spires which gave it its namesake. The entire thing had a slightly tarnished gold quality to it, which allowed the floodlights that shone upon its surface to make it shimmer. It had been a sign of the wealth and reputation Providence looked to uphold.

The sight of The Crown had momentarily been stripped from me when the door opened, superseded instead by white which burned into my retina. I grimaced, though my eyes had quickly adjusted to the light which left me to take in the crowds of people with flashing cameras, they lined either side of the well maintained concrete walkway which had led to the building's main entrance. 

My father was the first out of the vehicle, but he had given no acknowledgement to the crowd, he opted instead to reach back in and hold a hand out for me to take. I remember the few seconds between when he reached in and when I took his hand, our eyes had met and he’d given me a gentle smile which, somehow all on its own, made me reach out and place my hand atop his. 

With his help, I exited the vehicle as gracefully as I could manage at the time, but the warmth in my face from when I stumbled slightly still haunts me to this day. My father hadn’t reacted to it though and I elected to not make a show of it either. When I stood straight beside my father, flashing lights and deafening questions bombarding us from all sides, he began to lead me down the path, towards what I'd hoped would become my “in” to hero society.

What I hadn't expected though, was to meet her.