"There's… something else," Thea began carefully, already turning over her wording in her head.
Malcolm perked up immediately. Something else? His mind was still spinning with family trees, birth certificates, and genealogical leads. He looked ready to storm the U.S. Immigration Office and demand every record since the country's founding. Hearing that there was "more," he leaned forward, expectant.
"You know I've met Talia, right?" Thea said slowly. "According to her, Ra's al Ghul didn't take you in purely out of goodwill."
Of course, she wasn't about to tell him she knew that from future events. Better to shove the blame on Talia — the woman was halfway across the world in some hidden mountain fortress; Malcolm couldn't exactly go fact-check her.
At the mention of Ra's al Ghul, Malcolm's face stiffened. He forced a dry laugh. "Ah, that's just Talia playing her games. She's probably trying to deflect the League's attention away from herself. Classic misdirection. Thea, you're too smart to fall for that."
There it was — that hallmark of every self-made schemer: pathological suspicion. He saw plots behind every shadow but his own.
So Thea decided to drive the dagger deeper.
"Really?" she said, voice deceptively calm. "You think it's normal? Out of all the people in the world who've lost loved ones, why did the Demon's Head pick you? Took you in, trained you, gave you access to his secrets, his resources — all for free? You never once wondered why?"
Her words landed like hammers, pounding straight into the cracks of his subconscious.
Malcolm froze. He'd never seriously questioned it. But now — now her words tore open something buried deep inside.
He staggered backward, clutching his head as a stabbing pain ripped through his mind. Fractured images flashed before his eyes — incense smoke, whispers in an ancient tongue, a ceremonial blade gleaming in dim torchlight.
He braced himself against the desk, trembling, gasping for breath.
"W–what the hell?" Thea's eyes widened. She hadn't expected this kind of reaction. "Hey, are you—?"
But there was nothing she could do. He was trapped in the flood of returning memories.
Half an hour later, Malcolm finally straightened up, sweat glistening on his temples, face pale but eyes burning with fury.
"That bastard," he hissed. "That old demon—he tampered with my mind!"
"Who?" Thea asked, though she already knew.
"Ra's al Ghul!" he roared, ripping at his tie as though it were choking him. "He hypnotized me! No wonder I never saw it. That's why I ignored the obvious!"
Ah. That explained it. It was the same trick she'd used with her own mind-control spells — only Ra's had used something ancient and alchemical instead of magic.
"You still remember what happened?" Thea asked. "You never noticed anything all this time?"
"I… I remember being cautious at first," Malcolm muttered, voice shaking. "But his chambers always smelled of incense — intoxicating, soothing. At some point, I just… stopped noticing the strange things. I thought I was relaxing. Damn it… damn him!"
He slammed his fist against the desk, fury boiling over.
Thea, watching quietly, pieced it together. Old-fashioned hypnosis, aided by alchemical herbs or some kind of psychoactive vapor. Modern spy agencies used similar methods with truth serums; Ra's had simply perfected it over eight centuries of practice.
When Malcolm calmed slightly, she asked, "Do you remember anything specific? Anything he did to you?"
Malcolm furrowed his brows, thinking hard. "When I first joined the League… he handed me his sword. Told me to cut my palm and swear loyalty in blood. I wasn't trained back then — I thought the dizziness was just because I wasn't used to blood. But now…"
His voice trailed off as realization dawned.
"His sword," he whispered. "He never unsheathed it again after that. Not once. I thought it was respect for me — that he didn't want to use his personal weapon in training. But… what if—"
Thea whistled softly. So that sword really was something special.
A magical artifact, most likely. And in the original timeline, it was that same sword that had run her through and crippled her powers.
Her fingers itched just thinking about it. Should she hunt him down for payback?
No. Not yet. Not until she was stronger — much stronger.
Malcolm finally regained a measure of composure, his calculating expression returning. "Did he… steal my bloodline power? Is that why I can't awaken like you?"
Thea hesitated. The answer was yes — or at least partly. Whatever had been done to him had certainly interfered with his potential. But she couldn't tell him that directly.
So she gave him a different kind of hope.
"My gift," she said smoothly, "is to summon a creature from a higher realm — a unicorn. Once it matures, I'll be able to merge with it. That'll grant me access to light-based spells — healing, purification, even regeneration. If I can heal my own body's damage, maybe I can help you repair yours."
Malcolm blinked. "A… unicorn?"
He stared at her, utterly speechless. His worldview had already been shattered tonight — this just smashed the remaining pieces for good.
But curiosity still won out. "Can you… show me?"
"Now?" Thea hesitated. "It's night, it might not—"
But what the hell, worth a try.
She focused and called out mentally.
Normally, her little unicorn appeared instantly — bright-eyed, shimmering with sunlight. But this time, it took nearly five minutes before a puff of silvery mist appeared, and the small creature stumbled out, looking distinctly grumpy.
It let out a soft snort and sent Thea a psychic message full of irritation: Too dark. Don't like it.
Thea cradled it like a sulking toddler and turned toward Malcolm, forcing an awkward smile.
The unicorn peeked over her arm — and froze.
Its big, luminous eyes narrowed. Then, with all the righteous indignation of a spoiled child, it spat.
Three perfect globs of sparkling unicorn saliva hit Malcolm square in the face.
"Pff—PFF—!"
Malcolm blinked, stunned, droplets of shimmering saliva sliding down his cheek. His expression darkened by the second.
Thea let out two nervous laughs, frantically wiping at the creature's mouth. "Haha… it, uh, doesn't usually do that—"
The unicorn flicked its tail, unimpressed, then vanished back into its pocket dimension with a sparkle and a huff.
Thea smiled weakly at her fuming father.
"So… yeah. That's the unicorn."
Malcolm stared at her in silence, jaw tight, eyes twitching. His face had gone from grey to thundercloud-black.
Thea gave an apologetic cough. "Guess it doesn't like… men with dark energy?"
"…"
For the first time in a long while, Malcolm Merlyn was completely, utterly speechless.