The city lights blur from the 30th floor—neon streaks against the glass, restless and alive. I used to watch campfires flicker on Themyscira, tracing constellations between the flames. Now, I trace the grid of streets below, both worlds humming with their own kind of magic. Strength isn’t just in the swing of a sword or the click of heels on a runway. Sometimes it’s in the quiet moments when you choose who you’ll become, not who you were meant to be. #Unwritten