Iris had cried until her eyes were red and her voice was hoarse. She nodded and stepped aside.
Obviously, Thea couldn't just walk up and cast a Greater Healing spell. Not only was Reverse-Flash likely watching from sowhere, but even without witnesses, she couldn't do anything too obvious. Fortunately, as a contemporary dical giant, Dr. Thea Queen was proficient with all dical equipnt. Many of S.T.A.R. Labs' diagnostic devices had been developed by Queen Consolidated anyway.
After a thorough and responsible examination, Thea understood the situation. From external and internal perspectives, Barry showed no obvious anomalies. Magic could forcibly awaken him, but the consequences would be catastrophic. She had no desire to fight a pack of speedsters from different ti periods.
"Mr. West, please don't worry. Barry doesn't lack a heartbeat—it's beating too fast for the machines to detect. His body is undergoing a very peculiar transformation. His cells, bones, lymphatic system, muscles, even his skin—everything is changing fundantally."
Thea spoke with absolute certainty. As a Nobel Prize laureate in dicine, no one in the world would dare easily refute her conclusions without testing them hundreds of tis.
Joe West, a lifelong police officer, naturally didn't question her. But concern still shadowed his features as he asked, "When... when will Barry wake up?"
Thea made a show of calculating before delivering her final answer. "Nine months."
After so brief conversation, the siblings bid farewell to the sowhat reassured father and daughter. They then went to et the lab's owner—Reverse-Flash disguised as Dr. Wells.
To compensate the victims' families, Reverse-Flash had liquidated all of the Wells identity's assets to pay the astronomical damages. Having dismissed everyone, he now literally lived at the lab.
"Doctor, please accept my condolences. Failure is the mother of success," Thea consoled with feigned sincerity.
Seeing that she hadn't simply yanked Barry awake, Reverse-Flash relaxed sowhat. His acting exploded into full force as he said tearfully, "Seventeen dead, over a hundred injured. I've failed everyone who trusted !"
The two engaged in a dramatic performance. Thea seamlessly rged her dual personas of life-indifferent capitalist and cutting-edge dical researcher. Reverse-Flash cycled through pain, guilt, and regret.
Both drew on genuine emotions, went through the motions, then went their separate ways.
Reverse-Flash's mother wouldn't be born for at least another four hundred years—Thea wouldn't be seeing her anyti soon. She went ho to find her own mother.
Moira's mayoral term had less than two years remaining. Both she and her advisors welcod her plan to run for the White House. However, the process was extrely complex. In the year before the election, she'd spend the entire year campaigning. Modern candidates typically begin preparations a year and a half in advance.
This required family support. So occasions demanded family mbers' presence as symbolic figures.
Moira wasn't worried about Thea—after all, this had been her suggestion originally. She worried about Oliver. Her son's thought process was peculiar. Honestly, as his mother, she wasn't entirely sure what went on in his head.
As expected, upon learning of her next move, Thea showed no reaction, simply nodding in acceptance while continuing her dinner. Oliver seed dazed. His mother was running for President of the United States?
Would this affect him? Absolutely! At minimum, the FBI and CIA were responsible for protecting the president's family. Being constantly watched by agents would make his nightly vigilante activities far less convenient.
But Oliver had no grounds to object. Plus, there were still two years—what if she didn't win? With that thought, Oliver followed Thea's example and focused on his al.
Moira was satisfied. If the children weren't objecting, that ant they supported her.
After a mont's hesitation, Moira continued. "Thea, your relationship with Miss Prince... it won't beco too public, will it?"
It took Thea a mont to grasp her mother's aning. She was worried about a major scandal. Thea waved dismissively. "Don't worry. We have extrely long lifespans. By Diana's standards, we're still very young."
Receiving a satisfactory answer, Moira turned to Oliver. "And you? What about you and that Chinese woman..."
The rest of dinner devolved into discussions about Oliver's marriage prospects. Honestly, Moira wasn't particularly satisfied with Shado, but she wouldn't be happy if Oliver chose Laurel either. In short, it was the classic mother-in-law syndro—she could always find sothing to criticize.
After dinner, the family rarely sat together in front of the television to chat.
Thea specifically inquired about the post-Moira era—who would succeed as Star City's mayor in two years.
In the original tiline, several mayors had died in office consecutively. Two years later, Oliver had transford himself into mayor.
That was impossible now. Mother-to-son succession? Too shocking. Basic democratic principles had to be maintained.
"Sebastian Blood. A very ambitious young man. I sense he'll ultimately prevail," Moira offered her assessnt of Star City's future mayor.
Sebastian Blood? Thea thought for a mont. She had a vague impression. A showman in the original tiline, he'd erged as a mayoral candidate after Malcolm's earthquake devastated Star City. He'd actually been working for Deathstroke.
Now Malcolm and Lady Shiva were inseparable, and Deathstroke was conquering alien territories. Neither had anything to do with Star City anymore.
Thea heard it and dismissed it, not taking the matter to heart at all.
However, while she didn't care about others, soone had their sights set on her.
Two days later, on a sunny afternoon, her phone's low hum interrupted her work.
"What is it, Gideon?"
"Soone has triggered security file code-nad M," the AI reported emotionlessly.
"Show ." Thea activated her desktop display.
"One minute ago, soone attempted to access records from twenty-two years ago regarding Dr. Gill at Star City Hospital and your birth certificate."
Thea rubbed her temples. "How did you handle it?"
"I intercepted according to the preset protocol, but the party hasn't given up. Based on information from their computer, they're digging deeper into this matter."
Gideon displayed a large photo on screen—a white male in his thirties, plainly dressed with an unremarkable horse-like face. His eyes, however, were quite sharp.
Thea looked at the na displayed below: "Sebastian Blood." She smiled. This nobody dared investigate her background? Interesting.
This was fate's arrangent. After considering her options, Thea took out her power ring and contacted Deathstroke, who was on an alien planet. He was the most suitable person for this job.
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