New Krypton wasn't small, but with only a hundred thousand surviving Kryptonians, the population was modest at best. Rebuilding their civilization and establishing a new social order would take time.
As a go-between, Thea helped them negotiate a deal with the Green Lantern Corps. The Kryptonians would contribute a hundred and fifty sun-irradiated warriors as an independent mercenary force to help maintain universal peace. In return, the Green Lantern Corps would supply critical resources to address the hundred thousand Kryptonians' most urgent needs.
Both sides got what they wanted. Supplies arrived quickly, and the Magistrates—Zor-El included—finally set aside their anxieties about the future and threw themselves entirely into rebuilding their homeworld.
"Are you staying or coming back with me?" Thea asked the group.
Faora said she'd follow Thea to the Underworld. Superman and Supergirl planned to stay and help out. Batman, fearless as ever, intended to observe the Kryptonians up close.
"Fine, just look after yourselves. If anything comes up, call my name. In theory, I can hear it anywhere."
With that, she took Faora back to the Underworld.
The former adjutant had deep reserves of her own, so merging with the Source wasn't difficult. In under three days, Faora officially became the new God of Souls.
Thea spent the next half-month running things there, then left her projection carrying the Godhood of Death to hold down the Underworld. With Faora as backup, she finally had everything on that front sorted.
After that, she went to New Genesis and had a "deep conversation" with Diana for two days...
Thea curled up against Diana's bosom like a lazy cat, nuzzling her head left and right.
"Those Kryptonians really won't become a threat?"
"There'll be some risk, sure. But—ahem—I tampered with their genes. Each generation will grow weaker until they eventually settle at the level of an ordinary cosmic being." She shifted gears before Diana could respond. "Enough about them. Let me see if your technique's gotten rusty!" She pressed her lips to the warrior goddess's.
A battle of tongues in every sense.
As it turned out, Diana really wasn't the prim and proper type. Playing the dignified God-Queen day after day had her pent up, and the moment Thea provoked her, she responded with wild, unbridled passion.
"Oh? Seems like your combat power's gone up... mmph..." The words barely left Thea's mouth before Diana's sudden surge overwhelmed her defenses. She fired back with equal ferocity.
At their realm, the repertoire naturally expanded. Why did ancient depraved emperors get away with so many unspeakable indulgences? Because absolute power meant no one could tell them otherwise. The two of them were in exactly that position now—New Genesis was their domain. Who would dare interfere? Anyone with a death wish?
Free from existential threats for the first time in her life, Thea cut loose entirely, blissfully keeping Diana company on New Genesis.
Between visits, she occasionally hopped back to the world timeline. The first candidate to reach the formal stage of the Sandman trials had failed, unsurprisingly.
She sighed. Nothing to do but reset the process and cycle through again.
The current candidate was the fourteenth to reach the formal stage—a man named Daniel. Handsome, with an impressive bearing, and a hint of world-weariness in his eyes.
Thea was optimistic about this one. If she read him right, Daniel carried memories of a past life. His spiritual power was naturally far above average, and he was exceptionally rational—much like Thea herself had been.
The first three acts had gone perfectly. Daniel had already transcended his mortal body, and every gesture now carried an ineffable grace.
Dream had three artifacts: a pouch of sand that had fallen into Constantine's hands, a Helm that had ended up with Lucifer, and a Ruby lost somewhere in Arkham Asylum.
Daniel had to recover all three to advance further.
With Thea having arranged things with Constantine beforehand, the sand pouch's trial was completed easily enough. One artifact secured.
Hell, however, was another matter entirely—let alone prying the Helm from Lucifer's grasp. Without outside support, this mission's difficulty was firmly in the "Hell" category. Literally.
This was where Thea stepped in. Several steps required Hell's cooperation, so she swept off to negotiate with Lucifer in person, like Guanyin Bodhisattva quietly watching over Tang Sanzang's journey west, pulling strings from behind the scenes.
She crossed vast rivers of flowing magma, traversed jagged basins of twisted stone, and passed through the carnage of countless demons locked in bloody combat.
She moved like a shadow, walking a straight line toward the deepest reach of Hell—toward its most magnificent palace.
Unhurried. Effortless. As if visiting an old friend.
The lesser demons couldn't see her at all. A handful of Archdemons sensed something amiss, but no matter how they searched, they found nothing. The scouts they dispatched died for their trouble—died completely, ceased to exist. Not even the Will of Hell could save those unfortunate souls.
"Care for a drink, beautiful?" A casual voice came from her left.
The speaker was a golden-haired man in a bowler hat, brown overcoat, white dress shirt, and red tie, a gentleman's cane in one hand.
At first glance he looked young. But a closer look revealed an unspoken vastness of ages radiating from him.
This was Lucifer—the first angel to willingly fall into Hell. Unlike those who'd been cast out, he had left Heaven of his own accord, abandoning the mission The Presence had given him.
Thea's gaze swept over him, and layers of rules and laws flickered through her perception.
Who was stronger? Hard to say. In certain domains of authority, Thea held priority. But Lucifer's abilities were comprehensive. If it came to a fight, the outcome was genuinely uncertain.
"Of course." Thea inclined her head.
The moment she spoke, the scenery shifted. Sulfur, fire, and the volcanic hellscape vanished, replaced by an upscale restaurant perched high above a city. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the night stretched out below—city lights glittering, pedestrians weaving through the streets, the nightlife just coming alive.
Thea wasn't here to pick a fight. Sensing no hostility, she played along, shifting into an evening gown that bared her swanlike neck and both arms, stepping into stiletto heels. Lucifer put on quite a convincing gentleman's act, pulling out her chair with practiced flair.
The atmosphere was warm. Piano music drifted in on cue, romantic and intimate, rich with artistic flair. Thea's brow twitched slightly. Under her subtle influence, the melody shifted. A choir-like quality crept in, the tune drifting imperceptibly toward something resembling a hymn.
Lucifer glanced at her. Thea wore her most innocent expression.
"It seems you don't care for the ambiance. Let's try something else." With a thought, the restaurant dissolved. The night sky remained, but now they sat at a plain table in the middle of an amusement park.
Much better. Thea didn't enjoy dining with strangers, much less playing along with someone's little role-play fantasy—"experiencing mortal life." Please. Get help.