Oh my god.
Thea sprang forward the moment the plump woman screamed, catching the falling baby mid-air. She shot Diana a glare — full of disbelief — before hurriedly returning the child to the terrified mother.
The woman, of course, wasn't letting it go. She shrieked non-stop, spitting out a stream of heavily accented French Thea couldn't decipher — but she was pretty sure it wasn't an invitation to tea.
Her shouting drew more and more people. With a crowd gathering, Thea couldn't use suggestion magic. She could only smile stiffly and try to soothe the woman — which quickly devolved into frantic gestures and useless words, thanks to the language barrier. And the woman herself had the dramatic flair of a petty troublemaker — crying, flailing, doing everything short of rolling on the ground.
Diana finally seemed to realize she'd messed up. She lowered her head, silently watching the chaos she'd caused.
Thea's memory had become frighteningly sharp. From the woman's speech pattern and the murmurs of those around her, she picked up bits of French on the spot. Most beautiful language in the world? She felt none of it. She powered through with a mixture of broken French and wild hand signals.
In the end — after handing over a fat handful of colorful bills from various countries — she finally secured the woman's forgiveness.
"…Sorry."
When the crowd dispersed, Diana approached awkwardly, seeing Thea's stormy expression.
And when Thea asked why she'd thrown the baby — she nearly collapsed on the street.
Hippolyta's nonsense storytelling habits were going to kill someone someday.
Thank god nothing terrible happened. Thea immediately sat Diana down and explained the basics of normal human life. Whether any part contradicted the Amazonian fairy tales Hippolyta had fed her… that was Diana's problem to sort out.
After this disaster, Thea didn't dare leave Diana alone. She would stick with her a few more days.
But lectures alone weren't enough — Diana might look mature, but inside she was a giant kid. And kids needed rewards.
"Try this."
Thea handed her an ice cream. She took one for herself, tasted it — too sweet, nowhere near modern flavors — but after six months of wild game on Themyscira, it was heavenly.
Feeling cheerful, Thea even waved her ice cream at Steve, signaling him to grab one.
Steve recoiled instantly. Two young women eating ice cream on a romantic French street? Fine.
A rigid, British-influenced American captain? Absolutely not.
Man has no idea how to enjoy life, Thea thought, then focused on Diana's first sweet experience.
Sweets really were universal weapons against girls — even five-thousand-year-old ones. Diana was conquered instantly, eyes sparkling.
"I want more!"
For a moment, Ares was forgotten.
Her mouth full of sweetness, Diana felt a weight lift off her shoulders.
Thea saw it clearly — unbelievable.
Ice cream had just helped a demigod reaffirm her resolve.
For that alone, Thea bought every ice cream the vendor had, went somewhere secluded, and froze them one by one with frost beams.
She didn't have water affinity or actual ice spells, but something this low-level — borderline cantrip — she could manage.
Steve didn't even blink anymore. Whatever insane thing Thea did, he just accepted. He watched her hands emit frost as she froze the mountain of sweets, then volunteered to carry all of it on his back.
Thea gave him a satisfied look.
The three boarded a passenger ship to London and began their sea journey.
...
"Your companion still isn't here? We've been waiting two hours…"
Steve leaned against a wall, scanning every passerby with growing impatience.
"She said something came up in a place called Liverpool. Told us to wait until sunset." Diana wasn't worried at all, lazily licking another ice cream.
"Liverpool?! That's over three hundred kilometers away! Did she fly there?"
Since meeting these two, Steve's worldview had been shredded daily. Nothing they did surprised him anymore — but he still had to complain.
"Huff… finally! You two picked such a ridiculous spot to wait."
Naturally, the breathless voice belonged to Thea.
She had instructed Diana to be careful after boarding the ship, then slipped into the night on her hoverboard, flying straight to the northwest port city of Liverpool.
In a bustling port, finding one child took time.
She ended up controlling two MPs, seven tax officers, and eleven gang leaders.
Only through joint effort — legal and illegal — did she locate Thomas Constantine, future father of John Constantine. He was still a child, father dead at the Somme, family destitute.
From there, things went smoothly.
But when Thea tried using magic on the boy, she discovered that while he had no awakened power, his blood contained natural magic resistance. Mental manipulation was instantly out.
So she used her political puppets instead — ensuring Thomas received his father's pension. Then, while he was out, she slipped into the Constantine family's old house.
The search didn't take long. She found five thick, black-bound grimoires.
But taking them risked damaging the timeline. So — she copied them.
She arranged for government clerks to stall Thomas with minor errands.
Then Thea spent three straight days copying the Constantine family's five ancient tomes, passed down since the Arthurian age.
The contents weren't high-level compared to what the goddess had taught her — but they were foundational: elemental magic, illusions, summoning, demonology, rituals, forbidden rites. Some ancestors had traveled the world, recording hidden sites between the lines.
Thea skimmed the mysterious places without interest.
She had enough problems already — she wasn't Constantine.
She wasn't going monster hunting.
When she confirmed she'd missed nothing, she rushed back to London.
Using the Eye of Horus would've been easier — but with Ares in the city, she didn't dare risk creating a divine ripple.
So she did things the hard way.