In the end, the choice fell to Sara—well, the future Sara. The unconscious one lying a few meters away didn't count.
Even for someone as decisive as her, hesitation flickered in her eyes. One nod could end every nightmare—no more assassins, no more League, no more Legends. She could just go home, live an ordinary life, forget the blood and shadows.
But a shake of the head meant embracing the pain again, continuing the endless struggle that had forged her into who she was.
The air turned heavy with silence. Those who understood the stakes lowered their heads, lost in thought. The ones who didn't just glanced around, wondering why everyone had suddenly gone mute.
"I…" Sara began—but couldn't finish.
Her lips trembled.
It wasn't indecision so much as fear of what came after deciding.
"You shouldn't choose weakness, Sara Lance." The voice came from Captain Cold—sharp, nasal, and dripping with cynicism. "You're a killer, an assassin, a fighter against fate. Remember why you exist."
That cut straight to her core.
The invisible scales tipped. Sara's face hardened, her breath deepened. She shut her eyes, whispering through clenched teeth, "You're right. That's my path. My fate. I shouldn't run from it."
Thea's gaze flicked toward the man who'd just spoken. Cold. His aura was… unpleasant, like an icy fog that never lifted. Still, she had to admit—he understood Sara better than anyone here.
Right, she thought wryly. The brooding ice man and the emotionally reckless blonde. Never would've guessed they'd end up with chemistry. Guess trauma really does bring people together.
Since Sara had chosen her own road, Thea wouldn't stop her. She gave a small nod, silently telling them: Your mess, your choice.
Rip Hunter, watching the tension ease, finally let out a quiet sigh of relief—only for a new problem to arrive a heartbeat later.
From his coat, he pulled out a small capsule. "Miss Queen," he said awkwardly, "we're time travelers. You'll meet us again in the future—but not yet. To prevent paradoxes, you'll need to take this pill and forget everything that happened today."
"Ha—ha—ha!"
Thea actually doubled over laughing, hand over her mouth.
"You people," she said between gasps, "really think I'm that easy?"
Her laughter stopped cold. Her eyes sharpened, voice dropping to a deadly calm. "You take me for a fool?"
Rip raised his hands, trying to stay diplomatic. "We don't wish to fight you. But this is our protocol."
"Hmph." Thea's smile turned razor-thin. "What, you hand out these things to everyone you meet? You must go through them by the truckload."
That hit close to home. If they had to dose every random civilian they bumped into, the Waverider would've been renamed the Pharmaceutical Express.
Rip sighed. "No. But you have to understand, we have seven people here."
The subtle warning in his tone didn't go unnoticed.
Thea laughed softly. "Seven? That's it? You think that scares me?"
Mockery glinted in her eyes as she drew her bow, the string pulling back with a hiss. The arrowhead gleamed faintly, aimed straight at Rip's chest.
She'd heard his speeches—his "saving the world" sermons—but deep down, he was no hero. Just a man trying to rewrite tragedy. Noble in motive, hypocritical in posture.
She didn't hate that. She just didn't buy the act.
And now, seeing her nocking an arrow, the Legends had no choice but to react.
"What's she capable of?" Captain Cold muttered under his breath.
Sara replied quietly, still watching Thea. "She's Malcolm's daughter. Same training as me."
"So… highly skilled, but human?" Heat Wave snorted, unimpressed.
Rip's voice dropped low. "Do not harm her. She's a fixed point—critical to the timeline."
"Relax," Cold said dryly. "We'll handle her the old-fashioned way."
With a silent nod, the two partners holstered their weapons and sprinted forward, fists ready.
The rest followed.
As they ran, the team changed gear mid-stride. Ray Palmer pulled a small case from his belt—his Atom suit unfolded around him in a shimmer of blue light.
Beside him, the Black man and the gray-haired scientist clasped hands, merging in a blaze of fusion fire—Firestorm was born.
Sara, torn but resolute, spun her bo staff once and moved to join the fray.
Thea just stood there, expression unreadable.
Seven enemies—well, six now that two had fused into one.
They charged in formation, a perfect, cinematic line—like soldiers from a Renaissance painting storming across the battlefield.
From a distance, it looked impressive—six heroes barreling forward in unison, all fire and fury, like tigers descending the mountain.
But Thea couldn't help thinking: This isn't a photo shoot, guys. This is a fight.
They were grouped so tightly she almost felt bad taking advantage. Almost.
"Well," she murmured, lips curving, "since you're offering such a nice target…"
She released the bowstring.
The arrow wasn't ordinary—it drew a shimmering trail through the air, weaving intricate sigils that pulsed with faint light.
This was her custom spell—Luminance, a modification of the League's dark shroud technique. Same gestures, same chant—only the runes swapped from shadow to sunlight.
Within a heartbeat, she conjured the glowing sphere in her hand and hurled it straight at Rip Hunter leading the charge.
The orb detonated midair with a blinding flash.
The perfect formation fell apart instantly.
"What the hell was that?!"
"Flashbang?!"
No one had time for answers.
Thea's next arrow streaked out—a net of silver filaments unfurling mid-flight.
Caught between blinding light and confusion, the Legends faltered. Rip Hunter's reaction time lived up to his name—recklessly fast, but not fast enough.
The net wrapped around him like a spiderweb.
He struggled once, twice—instinctively tightening his own bindings. Thea's formula wasn't just adhesive; it was laced with a chemical concoction that could drop Bane in under ten seconds.
Rip was out cold in eight.
Heat Wave, barreling forward with equal enthusiasm, met a similar fate—tangled, suspended, and too terrified to use his flamethrower for fear of cooking himself alive.
He twisted his head desperately toward his partner. "Cold! A little help here?!"
Captain Cold, to his credit, reacted fast—his shades had shielded him from most of the flash. He'd seen Thea's bow rise and slowed his step just enough to dodge the trap.
Smart move.
Unfortunately for him… she still had plenty of arrows left.