"You're insane, Thea! Are you running a fever?!"
To Thea, it had been almost a year since she'd last seen Felicity. In truth, only about three months had passed—but Felicity came storming in like she was ready to fight.
"You actually want to demolish one of the Eight Wonders of the World and rebuild it? Something that huge—and you expect nobody online to talk about it? Are you out of your mind?!"
Felicity fumed, not caring in the slightest that this was the CEO's office.
"I am discussing it with you, aren't I…?"
Thea knew this wasn't a trivial matter. She'd intended to gather a few trusted people first to sketch out a plan, but she hit fierce opposition at step one.
"There's absolutely no way people won't talk. You're going against the entire history of human civilization…"
Felicity couldn't comprehend how someone as smart as Thea would choose to do something so exhausting, so thankless. She kept rambling on and on.
Thea also wondered if the headline she wanted was… too big.
But the moment she remembered being dragged through a time tunnel straight to the temple ruins, the goddess's intent was obvious. If rebuilding the temple could both help her find Diana and fulfill the goddess's request—
Then the temple must be rebuilt.
Humans cared about "historical value," "cultural value," "heritage."
But to the goddess? This was Her temple.
And humans had let it crumble until it looked like a barren wasteland, a place not even birds bothered with. Letting it decay was one thing—but humans actually kept bringing tens of thousands of tourists every year, staring and pointing.
What was that supposed to mean?
Mockery?
Laughing at Her misfortune?
No matter how far She had fallen, She couldn't let mortals look at Her shame.
Whether for Diana's attention or the goddess's dignity—
This temple had to be torn down and rebuilt.
Realizing she'd been too naïve at first, Thea sought Moira that evening and laid out her idea.
"Rebuild a temple?!"
Moira, who'd been reading a magazine, froze. This was far, far outside Queen Group's line of business.
Seeing the confusion full in Moira's eyes, Thea understood perfectly how shocking this must sound. Any normal person would think she was just a young heir who'd grown arrogant too fast.
To earn Moira's trust—and to prepare her mentally for a future "god-blood injection"—Thea decided to reveal a little demonstration.
"Mom, watch this."
Her eyes swept the room until she found one of Moira's scarves. Perfect.
"Transmutation!"
A soft green light shimmered.
The motionless scarf suddenly twisted as if an invisible hand pulled at it, reshaping and folding until it became… a perfectly formed hat.
Thea beckoned it over and placed it before Moira so she could examine it herself.
Moira, who'd lived over forty years and considered herself well-traveled, was completely stunned. At first she thought it was some kind of sleight-of-hand trick. But after touching it, feeling it, turning it over—
No.
This was a real hat.
How was that possible?
Only after a long moment did she finally connect this miracle to the earlier conversation.
Moira carefully chose her words.
"You want to rebuild the temple because of… this power? Is it dangerous? Will it hurt your body?"
As a mother, her first worry wasn't how powerful Thea was—it was whether her daughter was safe.
Thea didn't dare dump everything on her at once.
God-blood, divinity—those concepts strayed far too far from a normal worldview. Moira had once been a nouveau-riche CEO and was now just a fledgling politician; she was still miles away from the hidden truths of this world.
Thea wrapped her arms around Moira tightly, and together they slowly lifted off the ground.
"Don't worry, Mom. Don't you think I've only gotten healthier?"
"Oh—?"
Flying had always been humanity's dream. Even though they were only floating a little inside the room, Moira was exhilarated.
A merchant at heart, she understood perfectly: everything gained required a price.
Feeling this extraordinary power firsthand, she began seriously considering Thea's plan for that "big headline."
"You cannot be the one leading this. At most, once everything is settled, you can appear as an important investor. But you cannot be the face of it."
Moira's tone grew firm—she realized Thea was no longer a little girl clinging to her arm.
Thea winced.
Moira was saying the same thing Felicity had said.
Boiled down, both meant:
Thea lacked the authority, reputation, and legitimacy to lead such a monumental project.
Even if the entire world agreed—why should she be the one to rebuild the Artemis Temple?
And in reality, the world wouldn't even agree in the first place.
Once this project became public, criticism would pour like rain.
Reputation…
Where was she supposed to find that?
Sure, killing a god was impressive, but ordinary people didn't know that. And she certainly couldn't hold a press conference waving the Godslayer Sword, shouting:
"This stabbed Ares to death!"
People would think she was insane.
"If the temple truly must be rebuilt, I think the government should be the spearhead," Moira said.
It wasn't complicated. The U.S. government had done so many infuriating things already; one more wouldn't make a difference. They'd bombed ancient Iraqi cities before—knocking down and rebuilding one temple wasn't even the worst of their sins.
The mother-daughter conversation lasted late into the night.
Using her own network, Moira outlined for Thea several key advisors who could influence the government, as well as a few reform-leaning congressmen. The project sounded massive, but it actually didn't threaten any major interests—compared to starting a war, it was trivial.
Under Moira's persuasion, Thea finally let go of her fantasy of personally shoveling the first piece of dirt.
She would simply be a participant.
Her real goal was only to attract attention anyway.
But who should carry the burden?
It wouldn't be easy to find such a patsy.
They would need considerable social prestige, incredibly thick skin, and the ability to withstand media backlash and academic outrage from around the world.
"This is so troublesome…"
Three days passed since that talk. Moira had begun subtle lobbying, while Thea and Felicity were going through lists of officials who might be persuadable. The Court of Owls couldn't offer much help here—their influence abroad was limited, and relying on assassination or coercion would bring far too much unwanted attention. That wasn't what Thea intended the Court to be.
"Miss Queen, a man named Jim Gordon is here to see you. He says he knows you…"
The phone call from her assistant snapped Thea out of her frustration.
What?
Gordon?
That Gordon? From Gotham?
What was he doing here?
After confirming his appearance, it wasn't a namesake—it was indeed the real Jim Gordon. They'd fought side by side before. Thea and Felicity personally went downstairs to receive him.
"Miss Thea…"
The old commissioner looked worn and travel-stained, his expression grim. With people around, he forced out a simple greeting and followed her into the office.
Thea waved for her assistant to bring coffee and gestured for him to sit. Seeing him hesitate endlessly, she had no choice but to start with small talk.
"Uncle Bruce and Barbara—are they doing well?"
She shouldn't have asked.
The moment she did, Gordon's eyes filled and tears spilled down in sheets.
"Barbara… she… she's badly hurt. She's not going to make it!"