One day is not enough time to ease the burden of knowing this is not her world, not her time, but Diana is holding on to her composure with an iron grip. There are old stories of heroes, unwitting or willing, who found themselves in a strange land, and it helps to imagine herself as one of them--even if that is less fantasy and more reality. Only reality, actually. She has not woken up, has felt nothing that would reassure her that this is a dream.

So on the second day, she dons her armor instead of the strange clothes in her room, if only to give herself some small comfort in this place. She feels like she should be doing something, but doesn't know what that might be. So instead she sits up here on the rooftop, looking at this shining city, searching for a path to take.

She looks over her shoulder at the voice, and inclines her head in agreement. It is beautiful, bizarre as it is. "Where are you going?" She's almost certain she's heard about people going somewhere else, but it's been difficult to focus with the onslaught of information.