Shortly after returning from Themyscira to the city, Thea was summoned back to Star City by Moira. When she met her mother, Moira mysteriously dismissed her secretary and closed the door. Thea had no idea what was happening.
"Oliver has a son," Moira announced, dropping the bombshell without preamble.
Thea's first thought was that Shado was pregnant. Her second, even more bizarre notion: had Oliver gotten back together with Laurel and put Tommy in an awkward position?
Within a second, she realized her mind had wandered off track from spending too much time at Themyscira. She was overthinking things. After all, she'd just passed by the Arrowcave and hadn't noticed any of the women showing signs of pregnancy. Moira must be talking about something from the past.
Moira didn't keep her guessing. She handed over a photograph showing a boy around seven or eight years old—thin and small, with a few freckles on his face.
"This child is eight years old. His name is William. Back then, I gave his mother a sum of money to send them away. Do you think we should acknowledge this child?" Moira's words were cryptic, but Thea understood the subtext.
Back when the Queen family was a wealthy household, Moira had wanted to prevent outsiders from claiming the family fortune. Plus, Oliver had truly been a mess back then—sleeping around carelessly and fathering a child. As a mother, Moira had paid the woman off. It was hard to say whether she'd been right or wrong.
But with the election approaching, Moira wasn't sure whether this incident might trigger a domino effect.
Thea said nothing at first, examining the photograph. The eyes and chin resembled Oliver somewhat, but she couldn't make out much else.
She thought Moira was overthinking things. A child like this was already one step removed from Moira herself and wouldn't directly affect her campaign.
Thea had a vague memory of this William kid. He should be a child Oliver had fathered before the shipwreck—back in her old life.
She vaguely remembered that this poor kid would keep getting kidnapped by villains. Every time, Oliver claimed to have hidden him somewhere even he didn't know about, yet somehow every villain moonlighted as a detective and managed to grab his son to use as leverage. It was ridiculous.
Now, there were basically two options: maintain the status quo or bring him under protection.
"Maintain the status quo. I'll arrange for his protection," Thea said, her gaze clear and direct. She could only manage preventive measures. This was Oliver's biological child—there were many methods she couldn't employ.
"What about Oliver?"
"Don't tell him." Thea's answer was decisive. It wasn't because she had any ill intent, but rather because of her divine premonition. If this William kid didn't get dragged into Oliver's life, his future would be happy and fulfilling.
Not everyone wanted to be a superhero or a superhero's son. Just look at Professor Alec Holland and Abby, who'd both gone into hiding, or Damian, who'd returned to Gotham to continue his harsh training. Not everyone had an iron will. Being a superhero was definitely not a good career choice for ordinary people.
William had lived eight peaceful, healthy years so far. Thea was confident that once the Queen family acknowledged this child, his previously safe life trajectory would plunge into some unknown abyss. Complex cause-and-effect relationships were at play here—things Thea didn't want to discuss with Moira in mystical terms.
As an excellent politician, Moira didn't want to acknowledge the child either, though she couldn't consider the karmic implications. She could only think in terms of herself, politics, and family. Hearing Thea's words now, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
Little William, living thousands of miles away from Star City in a small town, had no idea that his "evil" grandmother and goddess aunt had decided his future fate in just a few sentences. He continued enjoying his childhood in peace.
After leaving Moira's mayoral office, Thea made some arrangements. She doctored the child's various birth certificates and, through roundabout connections, gave William's mother a small promotion—two levels up, ensuring stable income and a worry-free life. It was a decent outcome.
She'd initially considered assigning two security personnel but decided against it. You couldn't be on guard forever—having security would only invite suspicion. The risk outweighed the benefit.
Beyond this child, Thea didn't implement any other concealment measures. As a presidential candidate, Moira would be fine as long as she herself didn't make major mistakes.
Even if political enemies tore open a gap via Oliver, the damage to Moira would be minimal.
The key point was that Oliver's past private life had been too wild. He'd been with at least eight hundred women, if not a thousand. With such a massive sample size, anyone determined to dig would find something. Thea's Eye of Annihilation, powerful as it was, couldn't eliminate all eight hundred women—she simply couldn't cover it all up.
If Oliver himself were running for office, a dozen children of different ethnicities would definitely jump out at some public event calling him "daddy." But with one degree of separation, the impact on Moira was minimal. America, heavily influenced by Britain, still maintained somewhat serious standards for leaders. Europe, on the other hand, had young presidents with much older wives, presidents dining with mistresses—such things were commonplace. Private life issues didn't matter much, let alone their children's private lives.
Even if problems arose, a little PR and media control could turn it into a populist talking point.
Putting Oliver out front as the target—that was the unspoken understanding between mother and daughter. His thick skin meant he didn't care about such trivial matters anyway.
The intense presidential race had already begun its battles on certain levels. Several candidates had started their campaigns. The current president, thanks to the devastation from the Rot, had earned the crown for the lowest approval rating in history. He was pelted with rotten eggs when going out and had shoes thrown at him during speeches. Rumor had it he was flipping through his calendar counting down the days—he didn't want to spend one more day in that wretched White House.
But as the saying goes, even if you keep your head down, trouble finds you. He wanted to peacefully ride out his term, but others had different plans. The usually stable Central City had encountered trouble.
The military's enthusiasm for converting aircraft carriers into flying carriers was beyond words. These days, Thea spent ten days a month at New Genesis doing nothing much, ten days handling various matters and occasionally communicating with Diana, and spent the remaining ten days basically at the Pentagon's secret experimental facility.
"Thea, Barry Allen is awake." At noon, just as she was leaving the Pentagon, she received secret intelligence from Caitlin Snow—actually Killer Frost, but still pretending to be sweet and innocent.
Ha! The Flash was about to debut. Central City's peaceful days were numbered. She instructed Killer Frost to maintain her current rhythm and just pass along information.
Superheroes were multiplying in this world, and with them came an explosive increase in villains. A mysterious cause-and-effect relationship existed here. Saying "without heroes, there'd be no villains" wasn't quite right, but from a macro perspective, there was some truth to it.