Thea stared at the two lunatics in front of her, black lines practically dripping down her face.
Maybe I was overthinking it. There's no "mystery" here at all—these two just exist to torment me!
She still had no idea what was happening outside, and yet these two had started brawling like it was recess.
Well—"brawling" might be generous. Since all supernatural powers were useless in this space, their fight looked like two squabbling housewives: a kick here, a slap there.
At one point, the black-clad Thea took such a hard slap from Arthas that her face actually swelled—but a flicker of black light healed it instantly.
In a place where you could respawn on the spot, this was less a fight and more… playtime.
Seeing they had no intention of stopping, Thea hurried over to drag them apart—because the longer they fought, the hungrier she felt.
Wait… are they burning through my energy every time they hit each other?
Her overactive brain jumped to that conclusion on instinct. If she let them keep at it, she might actually keel over first.
"Stop—stop already!" Thea shouted, yanking them apart.
The moment her back was turned, Arthas kicked shadow-Thea squarely in the stomach, then pranced away smugly.
"You traitor! You helped her hit me!" the shadow snarled, darting past Thea to give chase again.
"Oh my god—why me?!" Thea threw her head back and roared. What kind of karmic sin did I commit to end up stuck babysitting these two maniacs?
And so began a full-scale chase sequence:
Sometimes Arthas led, shadow-Thea pursued, and Thea trailed behind trying to reason with them.
Other times, shadow-Thea got the upper hand, Arthas went feral in pursuit, and Thea still ended up being the one yelling "Stop it!" from the back.
She gave the same lecture over and over—threats, bribes, life lessons, moral philosophy—until she was hoarse. It took all her strength (and several humiliating compromises) to calm them both down.
By the end, she'd signed a whole list of unequal treaties:
—Promise to buy Arthas good food later.
—Promise never to make shadow-Thea play any "indescribable games" again.
"Alright, enough!" Thea sighed, feeling like a daycare worker wrangling two bratty toddlers who merely looked grown-up.
But the longer they ran around, the stronger that gnawing hunger grew. She had to get out—now.
She glanced between the two, weighing which one might actually know something useful. Arthas looked way too unreliable, so she turned to the black-clad version of herself—the one calling herself a "grand mage."
"Okay, explain. What's going on?"
She pointed at the other Thea in what she thought was a commanding pose—if she'd been wearing a police uniform and had a "Law & Order" slogan behind her, the moment would've been perfect.
Shadow-Thea rolled her eyes. "Our consciousnesses are connected, remember? I know exactly what you're thinking. And wow—your imagination is ridiculous."
Thea winced, but the shadow kept going.
"If I'm right, this all started when you fell through the time vortex. Our power source is light—and in the broad sense, time is a kind of light.
For you it felt like an instant, but from our perspective, about a hundred and fifty years passed. During that time, we evolved—and you've been stockpiling massive amounts of energy in your body.
Before that power could spiral out of control, your subconscious pulled you into this space as a failsafe."
Then she tilted her chin up and gave Arthas an exaggerated eye-roll. "Got it now?"
Time is also light? What kind of twisted physics was that supposed to be? Thea didn't understand, and honestly, she didn't care. She just wanted out.
"So how do I leave?"
"That's easy. Focus your mind and you'll return. But… your body outside is already close to overload. Haven't you considered what happens next?"
The shadow's tone dripped with smug superiority, her eyes saying: You're about to die—better beg me for help.
For someone who valued her life above all else, Thea didn't even hesitate. She threw herself at the shadow, sobbing dramatically.
The performance was Oscar-worthy—it left Arthas staring, slack-jawed.
Even the shadow seemed horrified by her own shameless "main body." After an awkward pause, she muttered,
"You can fuse with that big horse over there to release the excess energy."
She pried herself free from Thea's clingy embrace and pointed sharply at Arthas. "But listen—hold onto your sense of self. Otherwise, her chūnibyō personality will infect you."
With that final warning, she vanished like a puff of smoke.
Personality assimilation? That was new. Thea rubbed her chin. This bloodline's full of surprises…
No time to dwell on it—she turned toward the "big white horse," eyes narrowing.
Arthas didn't wait to be asked. She rattled off a rapid-fire explanation, and Thea memorized it quickly.
After repeating the steps once to confirm, she exited the strange inner space.
When her consciousness snapped back to her body, she was immediately blinded by the radiance flooding the ship.
Even with her light-absorption physique, her eyes burned. The others had it far worse.
"Gideon! Scan it—what the hell's happening in there?!" Rip Hunter barked.
He'd come to 2166 ready to die fighting Vandal Savage; now, before they even reached the man's doorstep, the ship itself was going critical.
Gideon's voice came slower than usual, almost stuttering. "The energy field inside the ship is too strong, Captain. My sensors are being overwritten—I can't determine what's happening."
When even the all-knowing AI didn't know, Rip Hunter knew they were in serious trouble.
"Captain, this resembles a nuclear fission reaction! Could one of the ship's reactors have gone critical?"
Professor Martin Stein—the authority on nuclear physics—looked half-scorched.
If even Firestorm's other half was feeling burned, the heat levels must've been monstrous.
Rip wanted to scream. "We don't have nuclear engines! This ship runs on future tech!"
Still, it gave him a direction. "Gideon, damage report!"
This time Gideon replied faster. "Captain, engine room integrity down seventeen percent. Quantum neural arrays heavily compromised. Switching to manual control. Propulsion status unknown—recommend Mr. Jackson inspect immediately. Also—"
The AI went on and on, listing failures like a doomsday countdown.
Just when Rip was about ready to collapse, its tone shifted. "Captain, I have one good news item… and one bad."
"Bad news first," Rip said through gritted teeth. He knew Gideon too well; best to brace for the worst.
"The bad news is that due to uncontrolled energy leakage, our cloaking field has collapsed. The moment we arrived in this timeline, Vandal Savage detected us."
Rip exhaled, almost laughing. Fine. He could live with that.
If the ship was going to explode anyway, did it really matter whether they died unseen—or went out in a blaze visible to the whole damn world?