Rejecting the merge entirely wasn't impossible—but outright resistance risked lowering synchronization.
So Thea had to compromise, just a little.
For instance, the silver-white cape now trailing dramatically behind her.
Yes, a cape.
A long, sweeping, floor-length cape.
She repeated it to herself three times—because it still felt unreal.
Like it or not, she had to admit it: she was now officially one of those heroes.
A cape-wearing one.
To be fair, it was gorgeous—something between a divine robe and a Navy admiral's coat.
The back was embroidered with gold-thread patterns forming a winged unicorn soaring across the heavens.
When she'd sneaked a look earlier, Thea had to admit—it was tastefully done, powerful and majestic.
If it had been some cutesy cartoon pony drooling rainbows, she would've refused to wear it even at gunpoint.
"Actually," Thea said aloud, glancing over her shoulder as if showing off, "this is our family crest.
It's sort of like Professor Stein's fusion—I merged with a mythical being, and this came with the package."
She turned so they could see the unicorn symbol clearly.
"Believe it or not, that's the truth."
The others took one look and collectively exhaled.
A unicorn—the legendary creature of purity and light.
Clearly, Thea was still on the side of the angels.
That was all they needed to hear.
Thea wiped away a nonexistent bead of sweat.
Thank God it was a unicorn—if it'd been an octopus or something, they'd have grilled her for an hour.
Rip Hunter, seeing her stabilized, carefully ordered Jax and Professor Stein to check for ship damage.
Thea's little "incident" had nearly torn the Waverider apart.
Even Gideon, who never stopped talking, had gone quiet—a sure sign of trauma.
While the others got to work, Heat Wave returned, pushing Captain Cold back into the room.
Not on a stretcher, thankfully—the man was pale but breathing.
It turned out he wasn't fatally injured at all.
As a normal human, years of exposure to his own cold gun had taken a toll on his cells, but Thea's light had actually burned away much of the lingering radiation.
Several damaged tissues had even begun regenerating.
So, technically, he'd profited from the blast.
That alone was enough to keep him from mouthing off again.
Still weak, he slumped into his seat, eyes closed, conserving strength.
What he didn't realize was that Thea could see what was happening to him—literally.
Her spiritual sense, amplified beyond human limits, picked up every microscopic shift within sight range.
She could feel the subtle fusion of his cells with the remnants of the freezing energy inside him.
She frowned, thinking for a moment, then walked up to him.
"Your cells—"
"Back off!" Heat Wave barked before she could finish.
Thea froze, then slowly turned her head toward him, her eyes narrowing.
Again?
"You wanna run that by me?" she said softly.
The air around them shimmered.
Loose objects rattled in midair, caught in invisible ripples.
Even the oxygen seemed to thicken.
"Captain, I'm detecting—" Gideon began.
"Shut. Up." Thea snapped.
She said nothing more—just stared at Heat Wave, calm and cold as starlight.
Right now, she could crush every being in this room—including the AI—without breaking a sweat.
Heat Wave wasn't stupid.
The look in her eyes was enough to make most people's souls try to leave their bodies, but he had one redeeming trait: sheer, bullheaded stubbornness.
He met her glare squarely. His message was clear: You can kill me, lady, but I don't kneel.
"Don't—!" Sara Lance jumped between them, grabbing Thea by the arm.
Truth be told, she wasn't trying to restrain Heat Wave—he wasn't that suicidal. He hadn't moved an inch.
Sara's future feats earned her plenty of respect, and Thea let out a sharp exhale through her nose, standing down.
She turned away from Heat Wave, addressing Captain Cold instead.
"You should run a full check," she said coolly. "Your genetic chain's mutating.
If I'm not mistaken, you're about to awaken as a metahuman."
And with that, she walked off and sat down, leaving the room in stunned silence.
"…What?"
Captain Cold blinked, head still pounding.
Moments ago, his best friend had almost died picking a fight with a demigod, and now this glowing girl was telling him he was evolving?
He tried to ask her to clarify, but Thea ignored him completely.
So he did the only thing he could think of.
"Gideon?"
"Yes, Mr. Snart," the AI replied smoothly. "Miss Queen's assessment is correct. Your genetic structure is undergoing a mutation. However, there is no reference for this specific pattern in my database. I apologize."
"…You don't even know?" Snart muttered, running a hand down his face.
He looked around the cabin.
Ray? Too busy gawking.
Sara? Hesitant.
Stein? Talking to himself about energy resonance.
Jax? Shrugged.
Kendra? Staring at the unicorn embroidery like it might start talking.
Yeah. Nobody here had a clue.
Finally, he met Sara's eyes and jerked his chin toward Thea.
The meaning was obvious: You talk to her. She listens to you.
Sara hesitated.
Was her relationship with this version of Thea even worth anything?
The woman sitting there was miles apart from the moody teenager she remembered.
After a moment of internal debate, she sighed and started toward her—only for Thea's voice to cut through the air, perfectly clear.
"There are two options," she said, not even turning her head.
"One, let the genetic structure stabilize naturally. It'll take about three years."
"Two—" she finally glanced up, her tone matter-of-fact, "I can use concentrated high-energy light to accelerate the fusion between his cells and the cold radiation. But it'll cost him a few years of lifespan. Your call."
Sara and Snart exchanged looks, both falling silent.
Before they could respond, Rip Hunter nearly leapt out of his seat.
"Miss Queen, you're not going to unleash that light again, are you?"
Her faint smile was answer enough.
The poor captain nearly fainted.
You've got to be kidding me, he thought. His ship was already half-ruined; another blast and they'd be traveling through time in ashes.
But he couldn't exactly forbid it, either.
Cold, Heat Wave, and Sara weren't just crew—they were the team's front-line fighters, its brains in combat.
Without them, he'd be left with two bumbling scientists, a rookie mechanic, and a barista-turned-bird-girl.
"Metahuman abilities," he muttered under his breath. "Of course. Why not?"
If he tried to stop them, he'd lose their loyalty—and maybe his ship in the process.
So, for now, Rip Hunter did what he always did best:
smiled through his panic and tried to negotiate with destiny.