Under Rip Hunter's very unamused stare, Thea laid Ray Palmer carefully at the center of the glowing magic circle and began another round of spellcasting.
The familiar motions. The familiar blinding light.
Once again, brilliant radiance filled the ultra-tech interior of the Waverider—like someone had installed a sun in a spaceship.
It looked impressive. It wasn't.
The dark energy in Ray's body was still eroding him, while Thea's regeneration spell kept patching him back up. The end result was simple: the poor guy being tugged between destruction and repair.
At least he was unconscious. That was about the only mercy left.
After five grueling minutes, Thea wiped the sweat from her forehead. Holding a steady magic output wasn't easy work—especially for someone with her ridiculous mana volume and questionable control. One slip, and she might blow him up instead of saving him. Killing the team's favorite goofball would be bad PR, even for her.
Finally, it was time for the last step. Godblood.
With a pained expression, Thea took out a small metal case, sealed layer upon layer until it was tighter than Fort Knox.
She wasn't about to use the best sample, of course. Rarity meant value; even Americans understood that. She chose a small vial filled with a single drop of golden blood—one of the earlier, weaker samples. The richer, darker blood she'd saved for herself. This drop was milder, just right for the Atom.
Holding the bottle up to the window light, she put on her best "torn with moral conflict" face—brows furrowed, lips trembling, eyes conflicted. Internally she was thinking: I hope at least one of them's buying this act. Please don't make me hold this pose too long.
To her credit, Kendra was completely taken in. Still shaken from the battle, she looked at Thea's expression and asked softly, "Miss Thea… what is that?"
"I've used every method I know," Thea said with weary resolve. "This… might be the only thing left."
"What is it?" asked Professor Stein, his scientist's curiosity flaring. He could feel the immense energy radiating from the vial.
"Divine blood," Thea said simply.
She didn't elaborate—and didn't need to. Let them fill in the blanks themselves; their imaginations would make it sound even more miraculous.
Everyone inhaled sharply. None of them had realized any trophy could've survived that god-slaying battle. They'd assumed Thea had just blasted the god into retreat, not that she'd literally walked away with divine blood.
Stein's mind instantly went into overdrive. The possibilities! Run a few lab tests, dilute it, replicate it—mass-produce it! Humanity could drink it with breakfast! A carton of Divine Blood Light, twice a day, and humanity would be colonizing Mars by Thursday.
His mouth opened to start the speech—something about "sacrifice for humanity," "the spirit of scientific progress," "for the greater good"—
Then he looked at Ray's dying body and hesitated. Save one life now, or advance science for the future? The eternal dilemma. Sweat rolled down his bald forehead.
Around him, the others were thinking much the same. What would they do in her place?
Thea watched them out of the corner of her eye. Perfect—right about the right level of tension. Any longer and the Atom would really be dead.
She gathered a flicker of light on her fingertip and traced a small cut along Ray's artery, then gently pressed the glowing droplet of godblood against it.
The moment it touched his skin, the blood moved on its own, flowing straight into his veins like it had been waiting for the invitation.
Normally, a mage would need elaborate rituals to prepare for such an infusion—but there was no time. Ray was a man of science; you could tell him about earth, fire, water, and air, and he'd probably just nod politely. Fortunately, that lingering trace of Horus's divine energy inside him served as a natural guide.
And no, drinking it wasn't an option. This wasn't a protein shake. The human digestive system couldn't handle god-tier energy. Direct bloodstream contact was the safest—or rather, least suicidal—choice.
The reaction was instant. The godblood surged through him like liquid lightning. Ray Palmer, ordinary human, had just taken the metaphysical equivalent of a hydrogen bomb intravenously. His consciousness was obliterated on the spot.
The divine essence tore through his body, clashing violently with the remnant darkness of the Underworld. Inside him, the two powers collided in a silent, apocalyptic war.
Thea stayed outside, maintaining the magic circle, mending flesh and bone, shielding his brain from being fried.
The battle lasted an hour. Finally, the godblood won. The black haze bled out of his body in smoky wisps, evaporating into nothing.
Ray's convulsions stopped. Gideon's monitors stabilized. Aside from some weakness, his vitals were better than before. His body had literally rebuilt itself stronger.
"Let him rest," Thea said. "He'll wake around this time tomorrow."
She eyed him briefly—looked like he'd grown about two centimeters taller. His skin was smoother, his old scars fading. Not exactly a full rebirth, but a decent magical detox.
With that, she turned and left. She was exhausted. Time to find sunlight. She didn't care if it burned her right back into her mortal limits—the warmth of the sun was worth it. That cellular-level joy was irreplaceable.
The others stared after her, then back at the unconscious Atom.
Lucky bastard.
Divine blood. The ultimate miracle cure.
They couldn't help picturing it—Ray Palmer awakening with newfound powers, challenging Superman, outsmarting Batman, maybe even glowing with divine aura.
One by one, they drifted out of the med bay, each lost in thought.
Captain Cold lingered last, his gaze cold and calculating. He looked down at Ray, then silently made his own decision.
Meanwhile, Thea didn't care about any of their looks. She found a folding chair, dragged it onto the deck, grabbed a blanket, and spent an entire day and night there—sunbathing by day, moonbathing by night, without a care in the world.
The Waverider crew had no idea what kind of "training method" this was supposed to be, but they decided to just… not ask.
Not that Thea was sleeping the whole time. Every now and then, she entered her inner realm to converse with the unicorn.
Truthfully, her light magic was a mess—barely passable. The unicorn, for all its beauty, was more of a warrior than a mage, its understanding of spells only halfway decent.
Honestly, it was a miracle the two of them together had managed to kill a god at all.
As the ship hummed quietly through time, Thea wondered how Malcolm and the Court of Owls were doing in their search. If either of them could find even one proper spellbook, her power would take another leap forward.