The two exchanged a quick glance—neither had a good plan.
We'll regroup and figure it out later, they agreed silently.
Unfortunately, the faint shuffle of their feet didn't escape Thea's notice. Even back when she'd been just a martial artist, her senses had been razor-sharp; now that her perception had evolved into full mental sensitivity, there was no hiding from her.
"Who's there?!"
Her voice sliced through the dark like a blade. Empowered by Gale Step, she moved with predatory grace, gliding across the ground as if weightless, and appeared before the two intruders in an instant.
But when she saw their faces—she froze, utterly stunned.
That blonde woman—Sara Lance? And the tall, handsome, perpetually good-natured man beside her—Ray Palmer, the Atom?
What in the world? What were they doing here—on Lian Yu, at this time?
Then it hit her. She glanced toward the unconscious Sara Lance she'd just rescued from the ship.
Two Saras.
Her mind pieced it together: the woman in front of me is Sara Lance… from the future.
"Uh—hi! I'm Ray!" the man greeted cheerfully, waving with boyish enthusiasm. "You… probably don't know me yet. I mean, not now. You'll know me later. Actually—well, you're not supposed to know me now…"
He trailed off mid-ramble, realizing he'd already said too much. His grin didn't fade, though.
Thea fought the urge to pinch her nose. Yup. Definitely Felicity's ex. The same brand of cheerful chaos.
Suppressing a sigh, she gave him a polite nod, then turned to the silent blonde.
"You're Sara?"
The older Sara nodded, biting her lip. Already showing traces of the calm, commanding captain she would one day become.
"Yeah. And you—what are you doing on Lian Yu?"
"I came for Oliver," Thea replied without hesitation—simple, direct, perfectly plausible.
Sara winced. Well, that checks out, she thought, though it didn't make her feel any less awkward. Before she could respond, a voice crackled through her earpiece.
"Keep her talking," came the unmistakable tone of Captain Rip Hunter. "We're en route."
Sara and Ray exchanged a quick look. Ray, the more talkative of the two, was nominated for distraction duty.
"So! Uh—where were we? Right, introductions! You don't know me yet, but you will—someday! It's a funny story, actually—"
He was rambling again, words tumbling out like popcorn in a frying pan.
Thea wasn't sure what game they were playing, but neither of them felt hostile. After all, these were all people connected to her circle—Ray, who'd dated Felicity; Sara, Laurel's sister. In some twisted family-tree way, they were almost extended relatives.
So she let him talk.
And talk.
And talk.
But even Ray Palmer had limits. Within a few minutes, he ran out of nonsense and started awkwardly laughing.
Thea smirked. She could tell what he was doing, but decided to play along. Changing the topic, she started asking him about nanotechnology.
That, at least, was Ray's home turf.
Instantly energized, he launched into an enthusiastic lecture on atomic layering, quantum modeling, and power efficiency.
Thea listened intently. To her surprise, the man was brilliant—his ideas, while loosely formed, were dazzling. She found herself genuinely impressed. No wonder they call him a pocket-sized Stark. In just a short exchange, she picked up more than she'd expected.
Midway through his excited explanation of a quantum field theorem, Thea suddenly smiled faintly.
"Your friends are here," she said.
Sara reacted immediately. "We mean you no harm," she said quickly.
"Yeah! Totally no harm!" Ray added, nodding so fast he looked like a bobblehead.
Whether that was true or not, Thea would judge for herself.
Looking up, she saw them—five figures hurrying toward her from the jungle, no effort made to conceal their presence.
And for the briefest, most ridiculous second, she felt… proud.
What, have I become strong enough that people need a whole team to handle me? Nice!
Then reality hit.
Wait—these guys don't even drop loot or XP. What's there to be happy about?
Leading the group was a man in a brown-gray high-collared coat: Rip Hunter, captain of the Waverider.
To his left strode a man in a parka and mirrored shades, wielding an oversized freeze gun—Captain Cold. Beside him lumbered his partner, the flame-thrower-wielding brute Heat Wave, broad as a bear and twice as loud.
On Rip's right walked a heavyset Black man with thick lips—Thea couldn't recall his name—and beside him, a white-haired, bespectacled old scientist who was unmistakably Dr. Martin Stein.
The full lineup of the Legends of Tomorrow.
Well—almost. Where are the Hawks? she thought. Dead? Or just conveniently missing, as usual?
"Miss Queen," Rip began, voice firm but diplomatic, "we are not your enemies. We mean you no harm."
Thea eyed them critically. She believed him—mostly.
Oliver might be weak now, but his future reputation was another story. The "Green Arrow" would one day stand among the Justice League's elite, practically the eighth pillar beside the Big Seven. And as his sister, her name carried weight. No sane time-traveler would dare treat her as an enemy.
Seeing that she hadn't drawn her weapon, Rip exhaled in relief. He'd encountered plenty of awkward "temporal relative" situations before—friends' ancestors, mentors' children, that sort of thing. You didn't go around murdering potential Justice League family.
"We're from the future," he explained smoothly. "We came here to stop a time rogue from altering Sara Lance's past. But instead, we found… you." His gaze shifted toward the unconscious younger Sara lying nearby. "We need to take her back—to her proper point in the timeline."
Thea frowned, thinking it through. "Wouldn't it be better to send her home—to Star City? Back to her father and sister?"
It was a reasonable question. In fact, it made perfect sense.
Lian Yu had been the birthplace of Sara's tragedy. Erase that, and her life might actually turn out happy. Who could argue with that?
Everyone wanted that.
Except Rip Hunter.
Because he knew the truth.
From a personal standpoint, yes—returning home would be a blessing. But from his, it was a catastrophe.
Sara Lance—the woman standing beside him now—was one of his finest recruits: sharp, capable, unflinching when hard choices arose. But all of that strength had been forged in pain.
If he let this version of her go home unscarred, untested, unbroken… then the Sara Lance of his team would never exist.
He could already picture it—this fearless commander reduced to an ordinary girl, hopping from one boyfriend to another, partying on weekends, drowning in bright lights and bad decisions. The quintessential American youth.
No.
That version of Sara couldn't save the timeline from anything.
Of course, he couldn't say any of that aloud. So he merely sighed, his eyes flicking toward the blonde standing quietly beside him.
In the end, the choice would be hers—the woman who had lived both the pain and the growth.
It was up to Sara Lance to decide which life she wanted: the one she'd earned through suffering… or the one she'd lost before it ever began.