[ Star City ]
After calculating the advance time and estimating the adverse effects such as wind speed, the arrow flew out with a "whoosh."
The cooling effect of liquid nitrogen was no joke. Though Thea wasn't exactly a pro at refining it, it was more than enough to handle urban thugs.
The arrow hit the wheel hub, unleashing an instant burst of frigid air. The rear car's wheels froze solid, encased in thick ice, but the driver, still pressing the gas pedal, remained clueless. His nerves barely registered the cold before he and his vehicle were sent somersaulting through the air.
Thea looked at her handiwork and felt a twinge of guilt. The power output had clearly overshot her expectations. She only meant to stop the car—not flip it into a human blender. The vehicle did a half-dozen rolls before crashing upside down, and no one emerged for a while. Peering downward, she wondered uneasily—were they dead?
She was about to call it a night when the front car suddenly veered off and slammed into a billboard like a drunken driver.
What now? Invisible attackers? Thea scanned with infrared—nothing out of place.
"Hey, did you see anyone attack the car in front?"
Felicity didn't answer immediately. After checking multiple camera feeds and reviewing the footage frame-by-frame, she said hesitantly, "Looks like a stray bullet hit the tire right as you fired. There's no one else nearby."
What kind of absurd timing was that? Thea was honestly stunned by the guy's luck. They'd been exchanging gunfire for ten minutes with no result, and only the last shot landed?
Was this that legendary fate where true warriors fall at the climax of their final charge?
Michael, the man in the front car, had fared better. He kicked the door open and stumbled out.
After Michael had sprinted about twenty meters, the shouts he expected—things like "Stop running! Don't move!"—never came. The absence puzzled him. Hesitantly, he glanced back, only to find a car overturned behind him.
Was that the vehicle chasing him? It looked familiar, but something was off—half of it was encased in ice. Michael couldn't make sense of it, but the scene before him felt downright surreal.
He debated whether to keep running. On one hand, no one was pursuing him. On the other, standing still seemed unwise.
Just as he hesitated, the rear car's door creaked open. A bald man, drenched in blood, crawled out. Thea, watching from above, winced at the grotesque angle of his bent leg, which dragged a trail of crimson across the asphalt.
"Felicity, call an ambulance for them," Thea whispered.
She turned her gaze back to Michael. Why the hell was he still standing there? He had an open path—why wasn't he running? Was he planning to offer dinner to the guy who tried to kill him? He wasn't particularly tall or good-looking. Honestly, Helena had really poor taste. Willing to kill her own father for this guy? You only get one dad. There are plenty of men out there.
Still, Thea wasn't going to judge Helena's choices. Michael had all his limbs intact, while the guy crawling was barely conscious. The other two passengers hadn't emerged yet—possibly frozen or too injured. The infrared showed faint warmth; unless they were faking death like turtles, they were unconscious.
Michael finally realized the danger and grabbed a cloth bag from his car before fleeing. Thea considered robbing him for spare suit funds but changed her mind. Seeing the pitiful state of his pursuers made her feel guilty. Let the guy keep the cash—for medical bills or therapy.
After two more rounds around the city, she ran into a ten-year-old selling powder and a homeless man stealing a burger. That was the criminal underworld tonight? Thea, disheartened, knocked them around a bit and returned to base empty-handed.
"Felicity, what do we do? Life's tough, and we're broke." Thea grumbled. Despite her name being tied to a sizable trust, she could only access a small monthly allowance. The bulk was locked away, untouchable.
Liquid nitrogen looked flashy but cost a fortune—purification, compression, sealing. All of it came out of her own pocket. No wonder embezzlers and creative accountants were a dime a dozen. This system was designed to push you into desperation.
Maybe that's why Tony Stark had to out himself as Iron Man. The suit's price tag was insane, and hiding that much expenditure from a corporate board was impossible. Justin Hammer's remote-control soldier knockoffs cost over a hundred million. Stark's armor was clearly far pricier.
Felicity, a proud homebody, had no quick fixes. All they could do was hope tomorrow's patrol might yield better results.
...
[ Queen Consolidated's Software Division, Star City ] [ Few Days Later ]
Over the following days, Thea stuck to her routine—night patrols, morning training with Lady Shiva. At 8 AM, when others were just clocking in, she handed off responsibilities to Felicity and hit the sack. Come nightfall, she was back on the streets.
Though she encountered plenty of petty criminals—minor offenses, really—it didn't justify dragging them to the cops. So she'd rough them up, teach them a lesson, and send them packing.
These people must have been small-time, because no bounty posters ever popped up. Thea imagined a dramatic wanted poster featuring her silhouette and a billion-dollar reward. But Star City stayed as quiet as ever.
Was her presence that unremarkable?
One afternoon, as she lay in bed, Felicity shook her awake.
"Thea, someone's here for you."
Still groggy, Thea saw Felicity leading a tall woman into the room.
She looked familiar, though Thea couldn't place her.
"Ms. Queen, we need your help." The voice jogged her memory. Catwoman?
She wasn't in her usual get-up. No leather suit, no mask—just a short skirt. Not that it helped; Thea could've recognized her from the calves alone.
She looked strikingly like Anne Hathaway from her past life. Where Lady Shiva radiated cold authority, this woman oozed graceful poise.
"Selina Kyle. You can call me Catwoman."
"Thea Queen. I go by Red Arrow."
The two women shared a nod and a firm handshake—warriors recognizing kindred spirits.
When Catwoman hesitated to speak, Thea glanced at Felicity, silently asking if she should leave. Not a chance. Thea immediately said Felicity wasn't an outsider—she was part of the team.
"Well then, I'll be direct. Batman's in trouble. And I need your help."
To Be Continued...
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[POWER STONES AND REVIEWS PLS]