[ Queen Mansion, Star City ]
Lying in bed, Thea knew her mother was a little disapproving of her decision, but she hadn't argued. Moira Queen didn't understand just how dangerous this world could be—how often Thea had been startled awake in the middle of the night, haunted by visions of apocalyptic futures and shadowy threats.
From all the information she'd quietly gathered, one thing was clear: Superman and Batman had clashed more than once. The official line was "each has won or lost," a diplomatic dodge if she'd ever heard one. But to anyone who really understood power scaling, that meant one terrifying thing—this Superman is no longer in his prime.
Because if this were the Silver Age Superman? No one, not even Batman with all his prep time, would have stood a chance. The man could sneeze away solar systems, bench-press planets, travel faster than light, and ignore causality like a child stepping over sidewalk cracks. Even Goku at his peak couldn't hope to match that kind of power.
That Superman was a walking, talking finale boss. But thankfully—or maybe unfortunately—this world's Superman had been toned down. Thea wasn't afraid of him being too strong. She was afraid he'd be too weak to keep order.
If this universe had a Silver Age Superman guarding Earth, no villain would dare show their face. She could've lived a chill life: become a stylish CEO, go on brunch dates with Felicity, binge-watch dramas, and play video games in peace.
But peace? That was a fantasy.
Wealth without power is like a castle built on mist, she thought. Beautiful to look at, but it collapses with the first breeze.
That's why Thea had turned her attention to Queen Consolidated's weapons research and development department. Somewhere in there—buried under bureaucratic dust and academic egos—was something she needed.
Maybe I can become the Iron Man of the DC Universe, she daydreamed, only to scoff at herself. Yeah right. Even if she pulled Merlyn Global into a five-year mega-project, secrecy would be a nightmare. The military would swoop in and absorb the tech faster than she could say "Mark I."
Tony Stark had SHIELD. Even then, he had to hand over suits. What did she have? A mansion and two overprotective parents.
Besides, Tony entered MIT at 15 and had a double doctorate by 18. He built a functional combat suit in a cave. I'm fifteen and haven't even graduated high school yet, Thea lamented. Some people really are born different.
...
[ Next Morning ]
Still, even if the dream of Iron Thea was still a fantasy, she had responsibilities to meet. Train in the woods. Attend board meetings. Pretend she was a normal rich kid. As for her future, Moira Queen had thrown her weight behind Franklin to lobby for a path into Princeton's Department of Electronic Engineering.
Moira supported higher education more than combat training—at least, she understood university rankings better than martial arts disciplines. And when Thea said she wanted to study engineering instead of the usual biopharma or journalism, Moira hadn't blinked. There were few women in mechanics, sure, but that wasn't enough to raise alarms.
Malcolm Merlyn hadn't objected either. Learn more, do more—he approved of that much. He'd even considered pushing Tommy to study harder. That was, until he compared Tommy's SAT scores to Thea's. Maybe it's better for Tommy to just stay in Star City, Malcolm had sighed. Let's not embarrass ourselves on a national stage.
...
[ Queen Consolidated HQ, Star City ]
Unaware that she'd once again indirectly crushed Tommy's self-esteem, Thea was now wandering the R&D department of Queen Consolidated. Officially, it was an "inspection." Realistically, she was just poking around.
"Dr. Hoffman, what is this?" she asked, pointing at a sleek, silvery helmet that looked suspiciously like something Magneto would wear.
The elderly, white-haired scientist beside her wasn't thrilled by her visit. Ever since Director Andre had mysteriously vanished, Dr. Hoffman had been saddled with extra responsibilities. He couldn't afford to offend the future head of the Queen empire.
"It's a positioning helmet," he said vaguely. "Think of it like a radar."
In fact, this thing is completely different from radar, but he was afraid that the young lady would ask too many questions, so he just made up a term that everyone knew in the hope of quickly getting the point across.
Thea squinted. It looked too smooth, too stylish. It felt expensive. Radar? Seriously?
She narrowed her eyes. "Radar? It doesn't look like radar. You're just saying that because I didn't finish high school yet."
Dr. Hoffman inwardly groaned. He shouldn't have tried the hand-wavy approach. Might as well tell the truth. "It works by calculating bioelectric field variations."
Thea blinked. "Bioelectric field? Like sharks? Passive electric field positioning?"
Now that caught him off guard. She was supposed to be sipping cocktails in some nightclub—not referencing advanced predatory mechanisms.
"Exactly!" he exclaimed, a little more animated now. "We studied shark hunting behavior. Despite poor eyesight, sharks evolved to detect prey through electric fields within a ten-kilometer radius. We modeled this helmet's functions off that evolutionary trait."
As the scientist rambled, Thea mentally translated it into gamer terms. Hunter's Mark. Once you tag someone, they show up on the minimap.
Useful. Very useful.
The old scientist was very happy to see Thea listening to his story with great interest. This young lady was the one who showed the most attention to his and his colleagues work in R&D department among all the senior executives of the company. After all, his team had been conducting researches for many years and had produced many results, but it was a joke to say that they were making money for the company. At least he himself did not see what role these researches could play in company's growth. He always felt guilty about the company as he asked for money every year but could not produce any results from which profits can be earned.
But for now, Dr. Hoffman, encouraged by Thea's attention, continued proudly down the corridor, introducing prototype after prototype.
"This is underwater illumination tech. The best commercial ones go 100 meters deep. Ours? 500 meters."
"This is a mini-missile system. Two variants—ground-to-air and air-to-ground. Smaller size, less range, but still packs a punch."
"This here is an emergency rescue drone. Remote-controlled. Travels at 400 kilometers per hour and can carry up to a ton of supplies."
"This one—"
Thea listened intently, fascinated. It was like discovering the secret menu in a superhero game. Sadly, most of the tech had little market appeal.
Aside from the underwater searchlight—which might fetch some cash from deep-sea operations—none of this would pay off. The purchasing audience was niche. Too niche.
It was hard to make a fortune selling things no one knew they needed.
Still, Thea was glad she came. These oddball projects might not turn profits—but they might save lives someday.
And maybe, just maybe, they'd help her become more than just a Queen.
To Be Continued...
---xxx---
[POWER STONES AND REVIEWS PLS]