Reading through the diagnostic report, Ray Palmer—who had written enough scientific papers to fill a bookshelf—instantly understood what had happened to him. He wasn't a medical doctor, but the numbers were clear enough. Just from the key metrics alone, he could tell how monumental this was for him.
The usual lightheartedness faded from his face. After a long silence, he asked cautiously,
"Can I ask… that drop of blood—who was it meant for originally?"
Thea saw the hook sink in and immediately switched on her actress mode. With just the right mix of melancholy and relief, she sighed softly.
"It was meant for my mother. She hasn't been well since my father and brother disappeared. But seeing how violently your body reacted… I'm lucky I didn't use it on her. That's your good fortune, Ray. Don't think too much of it."
She smiled gently, turned around, and walked away, leaving behind a perfect picture of selfless heroism.
Ray, however, was left reeling with guilt. If it had been for her own use, fine—but it was meant for her mother. He knew all about the Queen family's tragedies; as the future CEO who'd eventually buy out Queen Industries, he knew that story better than anyone.
Being her "lab rat" suddenly felt… humbling. He would've died anyway—at least this way, he'd been given a chance to live.
After wrestling with himself for a few seconds, he made up his mind. He jogged after her, pulled a small flash drive from his pocket, and handed it to her.
"These are some of the schematic principles for my suit. Consider it my way of saying thank you."
Without waiting for a reply, the handsome scientist turned and briskly walked off.
Thea kept her face solemn, but inside, she was doing mental cartwheels. Score!
A sentient AI and the Atom Suit—arguably the two most valuable pieces of tech on this ship—were now both within her grasp.
Even Eobard Thawne, the Reverse Flash from the 25th century, had once praised Ray's suit. Sure, there had been a hint of flattery in it, but it was still an endorsement from one of the greatest scientific minds in the multiverse.
She slipped the flash drive into her bag with practiced calm. Once she returned to Star City, she could finally begin preparing her own powered armor project.
After all, her original timeline was nothing like 2166. There were dozens of heroes and villains running around. She couldn't afford to act as openly as she had here. She had no intention of joining the Injustice crowd either.
She needed a legitimate, visible heroic identity—one that could inspire rather than terrify. And what better template than the one and only Iron Man—a flying, tech-savvy, PR-friendly superhero?
Before she could get lost in that thought, another "walking gift package" appeared.
Captain Cold.
He didn't bother with theatrics. Without preamble, he held out a USB drive as well. "Freeze gun schematics. Well, not the blueprints, but a breakdown of the parts. Figured you'd want it."
Thea wasn't surprised. The original design had been created by Cisco Ramon as a safeguard against the Flash, but before it could be used, Cold had stolen it—and then proceeded to terrorize the Scarlet Speedster for three years.
Considering that the man only had a high school education, the fact that he'd managed to reverse-engineer and even improve upon Cisco's design was downright impressive. Then again, in this universe, "science" often operated on plot logic. Firestorm's mechanic buddy had gone from fixing cars to repairing a time ship in six months—so maybe Cold's high-school diploma wasn't so bad after all.
Thea was mildly interested in the weapon, though not overly so. She'd studied Mr. Freeze's tech back in Gotham; the principles were similar.
Still, she couldn't just take and not give. She dragged Captain Cold, along with Heat Wave and Sara Lance, to the same ritual circle she'd used the day before.
"Stand in the center," she said, gesturing for Cold to step inside. To make it look like she was earning her keep, she put on another elaborate show—glowing runes, mystic gestures, the whole performance lasting a solid twenty minutes.
When she finally stopped, Cold looked like he'd just survived a sauna on the surface of the sun. Thea studied him closely, activating her divine sight.
The Eye of Horus revealed everything: his genetic structure had changed. Not drastically, but subtle modifications glimmered along the chain—new sequences attached to his natural genome. So this is what a metahuman looks like at the molecular level…
"How do you feel?" she asked, genuinely curious. "Any changes?"
Cold frowned, flexing his fingers. "Something's different, but I can't quite tell what." He raised his left hand, made the motion for summoning an ice shard—nothing happened. The silence was awkward.
Thea crossed her arms, thoughtful. "Probably still stabilizing. You'll need rest and food—lots of it. Give your body time to adjust."
Then she glanced at Sara with mock seriousness. "And maybe skip the… extracurricular activities for a week. Don't overexert him."
Sara blinked. Cold groaned. Thea smiled serenely, ignoring their dark expressions as she strolled off to enjoy another sunbath.
The Waverider lingered in 2166 for a week. Rip Hunter settled his wife and son, half-expecting the Time Masters to show up any minute. But nothing happened.
Silence. No pursuit. No reprimand.
It was… unsettling. The Time Masters used to hunt him like bloodhounds, never letting him stay in one timeline for more than three days. Why the sudden peace?
Unable to figure it out, Rip decided to take the initiative. The Legends boarded the ship once again, ready for what they thought would be their final mission—though fate had far more stories in store.
Of everyone aboard, the happiest man was, without question, Captain Rip Hunter himself—vengeance fulfilled, family safe, career redeemed. He was practically glowing with self-satisfaction.
Second happiest? Dr. Ray Palmer.
The newly "reborn" Atom radiated enthusiasm. His enhanced physique and his brief encounter with Sir Gawain had reignited his old chivalric fantasies.
His first step? A total redesign.
He'd taken his sleek, high-tech Atom Suit and rebuilt it as a gleaming medieval knight's armor—to the despair of every scientist on board. Martin Stein, in particular, nearly wept over the waste of technology.
To complete the look, Ray begged Gideon for a block of the ship's alloy steel and forged himself a massive two-handed sword.
When Thea teasingly pointed out that his skin looked a little too smooth, and Captain Cold chimed in that he looked like "a eunuch in a tin can," the former Atom had the perfect response—he started growing a beard.
Within a week, it was already taking shape.
More importantly, his mindset had changed. Armor could protect the body, but true strength came from within. His brief partnership with Gawain had broken through his inner walls. He could finally face himself—no shrinking, no running.
Giving Thea the armor schematics had been, in its own way, a farewell to his old self.
And as for the title "Atom Knight"?
That was his own joke—one everyone else was more than happy to keep.