Changing outfits didn't take long. Besides preventing wardrobe malfunctions during gunfights, the main purpose was to hide her identity. With Thea's current physical strength, she didn't need any protective gear to survive the full four-hundred-kilometer-per-hour speed of her hoverboard. Ever since she used sheer speed to torment Ares to the brink of insanity, the board had almost fallen behind her rapid power growth. She desperately needed faster and stronger tech.
After confirming the target location and taking the communicator Barbara handed her, Thea split up from Batman, who flew the Batwing. Barbara, now a fairly competent tech operator, relayed information from the Batcave.
As for Jason Todd—well, even with his thick skull, he'd need a few days to recover from today's psychological trauma.
"Thea, Batman's already engaged!"
Barbara reported just as Thea finished surveying her surroundings.
"Pretty impatient…"
Thea muttered. Batman pretended not to care about Talia and the boy, but clearly, his feelings were deeper than he let on. They'd arrived at the same time, yet Thea had only taken a quick scan with her Eye of Horus — meanwhile, Batman had already stormed in. Not even basic recon. That wasn't the battle discipline of someone who'd dominated Gotham for years.
They had agreed to attack simultaneously, and Thea didn't detect any heavy weapons inside. She folded her board, fired a blast arrow, and blew the iron door open.
Against these modern criminals with guns, Thea didn't bother using high-tier magic or divine-class abilities. She simply used the magic arrows inherent to her divine bow and activated the Eye of Horus—ignoring obstacles, ignoring range—one arrow per target.
In just two minutes after entering the machine plant, seven or eight criminals were already down.
The factory had been abandoned for years, cluttered and obstructive. Too many layers of junk strained the Eye of Horus' visual penetration. It took her five full minutes to locate her target.
"Barbara, tell Batman—my target is his son."
"Copy."
Joker's men shared one trait with their boss: madness.
Thea didn't hold back — she killed whoever she saw. But intimidation didn't work at all. They acted like she didn't exist, hiding in corners and firing wildly. Rockets, grenades — they launched them indoors without hesitation, not caring if everyone — including themselves — might get buried alive.
Truly, mental illness was terrifying.
Thea shook her head and shot down another two idiots with rocket launchers.
"Hey, kid's got spirit. Why are you glaring at me like that?"
Damian Wayne wasn't hard to find. Or rather — these lunatics hadn't bothered to hide him. Thea discovered Batman's son in a room full of junk. Seeing tape still covering his mouth, she casually ripped it off.
"Idiot! Someone's ambushing you—"
The boy began with insults, but still managed to warn her at the end.
Thea had sensed the person behind her long ago, but she had deliberately left an opening.
If the enemy took Damian hostage, it'd be a headache.
Better to lure the attacker into striking so she could get close to Damian in one move.
Now, as a airborne whip-kick sliced toward her from behind, she turned, blocked it with her left arm, and with the enemy suspended midair — full of openings — she clenched her right fist and punched straight into their abdomen.
BOOM!
Even without her mechanical arm, Thea's current physical strength rivaled Bane juiced up on Venom. Her punch sent the attacker flying directly into a wall, smashing a hole through it, and launching them five or six meters further before they hit the ground.
Just as she reached for Damian's ropes, she frowned. Her mental scan showed the attacker wasn't dead.
Joker had someone this strong?
But when the figure climbed out from the rubble — wearing that unmistakable red-and-blue jacket, with a slender, curvy figure — Thea realized this wasn't just a random goon.
This was someone with a name.
Harley Quinn.
The girl had taken Thea's punch head-on and was still standing — barely. Her dirty tank top offered no armor, no padding — only a large, fist-shaped bruise across her bare stomach.
Injected with some enhancement drug, perhaps?
Interesting.
If she had fought Harley back when she first came to Gotham, it might've been troublesome — but now… heh.
"You're Talia's sister? You're much stronger than she is…"
Harley managed to stand, but her insides felt like they'd been rearranged. She was only forcing herself to stay conscious.
"She's NOT my mother's sister! She's an impostor!"
Damian immediately snapped back before Thea could say a word.
Three black lines metaphorically slid down Thea's forehead.
Oh please — what's so great about your family? Impostor?
With Nyssa's big, square face, Thea wouldn't even want to impersonate her. God, she hated kids.
If not for Batman, she'd already have smacked him into next week.
Thea didn't bother explaining the misunderstanding. In fact, she welcomed it.
Let Joker's duo hate the Demon's Head all they wanted.
And if they mistook her for a relative of Darkseid — even better.
Imagining Joker blowing up Apokolips into cosmic dust sounded… delightful.
"Enough talk. Come here."
Thea casually cast Mage Hand, pulling Harley — who had been trying to stall for time and let her body recover — straight into the air and toward her.
Pity.
Up close, Harley's face — despite the smeared red and blue makeup — was actually pretty pretty. Her figure was exactly the kind men of this era drooled over.
Shame she was insane.
Damian went dead silent.
He didn't dare mention "impostors" anymore.
From his perspective, Thea merely gestured — and Harley Quinn, a full-grown adult, was suddenly lifted off the ground as if strangled by invisible hands.
For a mentally mature but physically six-year-old child, the sight was traumatic.
He glanced up at Thea's masked face.
Was she really here to rescue him?
Or was she one of his father's enemies?
He tried to stay calm, but his legs trembled slightly.
"Damn you! What's with that look?!"
Harley, on the verge of suffocation, wasn't afraid of death—
but Thea's "hmm, interesting specimen" expression enraged her.
She snatched her revolver and fired point-blank at Thea's head.
She could still move?
That was surprising.
Two fingers snapped up — catching the bullet.
Harley stared, stunned, as Thea plucked the gun from her grip, weighing it casually.
Nice weight.
Nice balance.
Shame Thea had zero interest in firearms.