When you're powerless, you smile and play nice. When you have power, there's no need to hold back. Their brief clash had been inconclusive—Lucifer remained unfathomable, but Thea was no pushover either.
"I'm here on behalf of The Endless to discuss a matter with Your Majesty." She got straight to the point. Granted, the family currently had only two members, and she was by far the stronger one, but waving someone else's banner had always been her style. Why let a perfectly good intimidation tactic go to waste?
Her meaning was clear: We're a family, and we're picking on you precisely because you're outnumbered.
The former Archangel, now King of Hell, frowned. "I don't fear Fate. I've transcended Fate. All of you together couldn't touch me."
"Indeed—your ability to walk away from Heaven, to abandon the destiny The Presence assigned you, is genuinely admirable. Which is precisely why we hope you'll cooperate and help Dream grow further." Thea sailed right past his hostility as though she hadn't heard it, pressing on with her pitch.
"The Endless would owe you a favor." Every other sentence, she brandished The Endless like a battle standard. She personally wouldn't owe a thing—when the debt came due, the new Dream could pay it, or the family could settle up collectively.
Two omniversal-tier beings, five at multiverse-peak. That kind of combined force could steamroll Heaven and Hell alike.
Lucifer wore an expression that said you've got the numbers; I can't afford to pick this fight. The gentleman's facade dropped entirely, and with a casual wave of his hand, the deal was done.
Business concluded, the tension evaporated.
"If you don't mind my asking—why did you leave Heaven? Did your... Father... foresee you'd do it?" Thea asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
"He is omniscient. Nothing—no event, no being—escapes His attention. Even this conversation today falls within His expectations." Lucifer abandoned the pretense entirely, tossing aside his bowler hat, loosening his tie, and pouring himself a drink.
"Then your departure was also within His predictions? If so, what was the point?"
Thea produced a glass of her own, and Lucifer poured for her without being asked. She had to admit—the King of Hell's private reserve was exceptional. Two tiers above even Dionysus's finest vintage, with a lingering aftertaste that carried a whisper of time itself.
She gave him a thumbs-up. Good stuff.
"I left Heaven because I felt I needed to leave. He foresaw everything because His attention was still here."
"You're saying He never truly left?"
"No, He did leave. Moved on to a higher plane, pursuing something I can't begin to comprehend. The entire world is probably just a small toy in His eyes—no need to deliberately investigate anything. The world holds no secrets from Him." Then, abruptly, he shifted topics and asked Thea a "professional" question. "Do you think I'll die?"
Her answer was suitably professional. "Of course. Life arrives absurdly, death arrives casually. You might be gone before you even notice."
She delivered this like a punchline, but Lucifer listened with full attention.
"Where will I go after I die? What about you—does Death die too?"
"I probably won't." Thea gestured at their surroundings, though Lucifer understood she meant the entire world. "If we think of all this as a big house, my job is to turn off the lights, lock the door, and leave. As for where I go after that—honestly, I don't know either."
The conversation ended quickly. After a few drinks, they counted themselves acquainted. Whether they'd be enemies or friends down the road was irrelevant. Thea couldn't kill him now, and Lucifer couldn't do anything to her.
Still, the topic of The Presence lingered in her thoughts—though only as a passing reflection, nothing more.
Lucifer's problem was that he'd been born at the top. He'd never experienced the joy of leveling up. If he'd lived Thea's life—small breakthroughs every three days, major ones every five, waking up grinning from sheer progress—he wouldn't be so melancholic.
Contentment was its own reward. If anyone asked right now, Thea would say she was perfectly happy and had no interest in chasing higher planes anytime soon. Her current level would keep her on top for a long, long time.
Shortly after she left, Daniel arrived in Hell. Lucifer staged a theatrical "duel" with him and surrendered the Helm.
With the sand pouch and Helm both in hand, Daniel moved quickly to the next stage: Arkham Asylum.
When he retrieved the Ruby, Thea appeared before him once more.
"This has all been your doing, hasn't it? Your test?" Daniel was no fool. With his past-life memories, he read people well and was confident he'd found the answer.
Thea returned an awkward-but-polite smile. Dammit, this is Fate's doing—why is it landing on my head?
She didn't realize the impression that smile left. Daniel regretted the words the instant they left his mouth—too reckless, too presumptuous. Some things you keep to yourself. Why had he blurted it out? That enigmatic smile haunted him for years, seared into his memory.
Thea had no idea her enigmatic smile had thoroughly spooked the Sandman candidate.
She extracted the power from all three artifacts and channeled it into him, one by one.
Ethereal, dreamlike energy suffused his body. Daniel had started as a modestly talented ordinary man. Seventy years imprisoned by the Order of Ancient Mysteries had taught him magic. Now, infused with the power of the laws Thea had distilled from the three artifacts, he instantly reached the equivalent of a New God.
Hands in her pockets, chin tilted upward, she gestured for Daniel to follow.
"Where are you taking me?" Daniel wore a plain white robe now, its hem embroidered with gold thread. His hair had turned silver, and his eyes held the myriad facets of mortal existence. The first traces of a Sandman's essence were already showing.
"The mortal world."
"What? I just came from there. What's worth seeing?"
Thea couldn't be bothered debating a slightly melodramatic Sandman candidate. The two of them set off on a long journey.
She played tour guide—the unauthorized kind—whisking Daniel through a whirlwind survey of Earth.
Without alerting a single soul, they started in Metropolis.
"Uh... is that a statue of you?" They hadn't been in Metropolis long before Daniel spotted the monument the citizens had built in Thea's honor. No expense spared—the finest materials, sculpted by the city's greatest artists. Even now it radiated a dense aura of faith-power. Impossible to miss.
"It is. I'm from here. And it's still my home." Pride colored Thea's voice.
That single sentence gave Daniel his first real impression of her. Something inside him warmed—just a fraction. Perhaps this "Second Sister" of his wasn't so untouchably distant after all. She had an ordinary past, too.