[ Star City ]
Felicity had no choice but to abandon her usual wardrobe of short skirts and towering heels. After rummaging through boxes and drawers, she finally unearthed an old set of sportswear and pulled on a pair of hiking shoes. But no matter how Thea looked at her outfit, it screamed outdated fashion—tacky and clearly from a bygone era.
Thea wanted to ask Felicity to change into something else, to preserve Star City's reputation at least, but Catwoman kept glancing impatiently at the time. Thea gave up with a sigh, silently hoping that Gotham's citizens were too preoccupied with survival to critique the fashion choices of visiting heroines.
The three of them dashed toward Queen's private helipad, dragging along several bags. Most of them were Thea's, stuffed with hundreds of arrows, dozens of specialty arrowheads, and an impressive collection of swords, daggers, and throwing knives.
The pistols they had confiscated earlier were now holstered on Thea and Felicity respectively. Though Thea hadn't formally trained with guns, her archery background gave her the precision of a seasoned officer—possibly better. As for Felicity, her only mission was simple: protect herself and don't shoot any allies.
"Thea, where are you going?" Moira Queen called out, hurrying over from her office the moment she heard about the helicopter requisition. Her daughter's spontaneous, globe-trotting lifestyle always left her feeling uneasy.
"Uh, we're going to Malibu Beach..." Thea said brightly, draping her arms around Felicity and Catwoman's waists with a dazzling smile.
For Felicity and Thea, this kind of affectionate hug wasn't anything new, so it felt completely normal. However, for Catwoman, it was the first time she had been hugged like this by another woman. Her waist was somewhat sensitive, and the sudden contact made her shiver involuntarily. Still, she forced herself to endure it and strained her facial muscles to produce a rather awkward smile.
Moira knew Felicity, even though they had never actually spoken. She was aware that Felicity work for the Queen Consolidated and was a close friend of her daughter. However, it was the first time she had seen the suddenly appearing Catwoman. While the woman was undeniably beautiful and had an impressive figure, there was a wild glint in her eyes that made Moira uneasy. She couldn't help but feel that it might be dangerous for her daughter to associate with someone like that.
Still, when she saw the three women standing together with an air of closeness, she held her tongue. Instead of expressing her concerns, she simply asked them to give her a call once they arrived so she would know they were safe.
As a seasoned woman, Moira had long sensed her daughter wasn't exactly following the "traditional path," but there wasn't much she could do to change it—not without driving Thea even further away.
She eventually reached out to Malcolm for his take. He was surprised at first—this wasn't exactly what he'd envisioned for his little girl—but the shock wore off quickly. After thinking it through, Malcolm decided it wasn't a big deal. In fact, if the choice was between Thea curled up in some guy's arms or with another woman, he'd take the latter any day.
99% of fathers around the world can't help but feel a pang of dissatisfaction when their daughters start dating. No matter how modern they pretend to be, deep down they're all thinking the same thing: I raised a delicate cabbage, and now some pig is here to take a bite. Some dads sulk silently, others grumble openly—but unhappy they all are.
Take Joe West, Barry Allen's father-in-law. He checks in every day, acting concerned about how their relationship is going—what stage they're at, what they might be doing. But let's be real, the only reason he tolerates it is because Barry was practically raised in his house. It's not father-in-law love—it's keeping the family jewels in the family vault.
As for Malcolm? His philosophy is simple: let fate do its thing. Girl? Fine. Guy? Dead. No trials, no warnings. He's not about to play matchmaker either. In his perfect world, Thea would stay eighteen forever, brilliant, beautiful, and blissfully unattached.
Thea had no idea her parents were quietly fretting over her romantic future. She had more pressing concerns—like assigning Catwoman to pilot the helicopter up front. "You're leading the way anyway," she said dryly. "So if we get lost, I can blame you."
In the back seat, she sat upright, eyes focused as Felicity worked her magic on the Gotham Police Department's firewall. It was no joke—the kind of ironclad system you'd expect from a city with millions of citizens and a crime rate to match. Still, Felicity broke through it in ten minutes flat.
Thea skimmed the pulled-up intel and quickly spotted several familiar names: the Scarecrow, the Riddler, the Penguin… Gotham's usual rogues' gallery was back in full force.
But one name was missing. She double-checked just to be sure—no sign of Poison Ivy. Maybe Ivy hadn't made her return to Gotham yet? That was a relief. As long as metahumans stayed out of the game, Thea figured she had a good shot at handling things with her current skills and gear.
There was still a chance to walk away from this in one piece.
...
[ Gotham City ]
"Get ready, we're almost there!" Catwoman shouted over the roar of the helicopter blades, her voice sharp with urgency.
Through the window, Thea caught her first clear view of Gotham. The entire city seemed cloaked in shadow, like a dark cloud was pressing down on its very soul. Sporadic bursts of fire lit up the streets below—orange flashes against the deep gloom, as if the city itself were breathing embers.
No one really knew what kind of madness possessed the founders to build a city in such a godforsaken place. Thea tried using the sensory technique Lady Shiva had taught her—tuning in to the natural flow of energy in the surroundings. But all she felt was unrest. A deep, bone-chilling unease saturated the air, as if the city had grown old and sick, yet refused to die.
Catwoman had said that even without a full-blown crisis, people died here daily. Nobody tracked the numbers anymore—no one had the time or the heart to care. Thea's imagination spiraled: if a necromancer ever passed through Gotham, there'd be no need for a dramatic ritual. One whisper might raise millions of skeletons from the cracks in the pavement. She wouldn't be surprised if a few hundred death knights rose alongside them for good measure.
If Star City was an aging man riddled with disease, then Gotham was a brute—muscular, scarred, and teetering on the edge of death. Neither was healthy, but Gotham… Gotham felt like it might drag the rest of the world down with it.
As the helicopter dipped lower, the chaos below came into sharper focus. Thea could clearly see the streets awash in violence—muggings in alleys, bodies slumped in corners, figures fleeing with bloodied hands. The cries of women and children hung heavy in the air, echoing between cracked buildings. In one moment, she saw an old man collapse, and a second later, a gang of teenagers rifled through his pockets for a few bills.
It wasn't just crime—it was desperation. And it was everywhere.
She clenched her fists. All of Batman's efforts over the years—gone in a blink. Maybe this was what it meant to be a hero: to step up when everything else was falling apart. If she once just wanted to pass through, now she wanted to fight. To bring order.
Her resolve flared, but just as she prepared to act, she noticed the helicopter circling. "Why aren't we landing?!" she shouted, urgency spilling out.
Catwoman shot back, more frazzled than angry. "Then you tell me where to land! It's a war zone down there!"
Right on cue, a stream of bullets arced up from the chaos below. They were too far to cause real harm, but the intent was clear—no one was safe in Gotham.
Thea scanned the scene. Weather wasn't helping either; Gotham's skies always looked like they were about to collapse. As she tried to spot a safe landing zone, her eyes locked onto a bald thug dashing into view—with a rocket launcher.
Her heart leapt. "Pull up, now!"
Catwoman didn't hesitate. The helicopter's engine roared as they lifted just in time. The rocket whooshed beneath them.
The three women exhaled in unison. Close call. Too close. And the mission hadn't even begun.
To Be Continued...
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"Hey heroes! Due to studies, I'll be posting 1–2 chapters daily for now. Hope you'll stick with Thea's journey—she's not going anywhere! 💚 If you enjoy the ride, leave a review or power stone. It means a lot!"