The second attempt failed the same way. The golden thread stubbornly severed their connection without any response.
Diana couldn't help with these mystical matters. After carefully reviewing mythological accounts, she found nothing particularly special about this ram.
"This thread probably isn't part of the Golden Fleece itself. It seems more like something mixed in that you accidentally pulled out," Diana analyzed after careful consideration.
Thea had reached that conclusion herself. But how could a random background ram be this powerful? One strand was enough to tell her everything—if a single hair from the golden ram possessed such might, Hera wouldn't need to worry about the First Born and Hades. When enemies attacked, just unleash the ram!
Thea persisted stubbornly in her contest with the golden thread. On her fourth attempt, she increased her mental output and finally glimpsed a fragment of content.
The results proved she'd been completely wrong. The thread wasn't attacking her—the sheer volume of information simply overwhelmed her mental capacity.
Thea's mental power differed from strength or speed. It had always been her forte. Even a wisp of her consciousness exceeded an ordinary person's total mental capacity. Though not a faith deity requiring constant prayer responses, her mental reserves still surpassed those of eighty percent of both Old and New Gods.
While maintaining necessary vigilance, she gradually increased her mental investment. Initially, the returning images appeared fragmented, like a madman's delirious ravings. She glimpsed only scattered visions of towers, cities, and crowds.
When she finally invested a full third of her mental power, the mysterious thread revealed its true nature.
Forget the Golden Fleece! Thea deeply appreciated the importance of modern inventory management. She should really discuss categorization with old Zeus. His method of piling everything together was completely backwards. Over time, even he probably forgot his own holdings. This thread mixed in the fleece proved it perfectly.
Diana couldn't see it due to relatively insufficient mental power. Hera, naturally skilled in magic and now wielding the divine scepter, would likely notice if she looked carefully. But having never paid attention, she'd let this supreme treasure remain mixed in wool, allowing Thea to score a massive bargain.
This was a thread from the Three Fates! The goddesses—Clotho, who spun the threads of life and controlled the future; Lachesis, who measured thread length and determined lifespans; and Atropos, who cut the threads and ended lives.
Born at the universe's chaotic beginning, they controlled the ultimate destinies of both the Titans led by Cronus and the Olympians led by Zeus.
Their authority transcended normal classification. They weren't faith gods like Ares or nature gods like Zeus. Their status existed beyond both—as Fates who controlled destiny, they seemed more like conceptual deities to Thea.
This thread segment came from Clotho, youngest of the Three Fates, woven as a thread of future containing a force called "Destiny."
Mortals spoke of the future with longing, but gods viewed it with dread. Having reached the apex of existence, deities feared change above all. Today New Gods replaced Old Gods—tomorrow would even newer gods replace them?
Escaping destiny's design was impossible. Just look at Reverse-Flash's desperate struggles. No matter his efforts, he couldn't break free from fate's bonds. The harder he fought, the tighter destiny wrapped around him, until his dying breath.
From the day Thea learned her own future, she'd been preparing—for family, but mostly for herself. She'd once considered clinging to Superman and Batman, but now the situation had reversed. They should be clinging to her.
Seemingly she'd gained much, but destiny hadn't released her. Instead, her struggles pushed her toward the storm's eye. The binding seemed to tighten. Never mind other matters—the Darkseid War would make her a primary combatant. Whether from Highfather's perspective or Earth's viewpoint, she bore unavoidable responsibility.
Weak meant playing supporting roles. Strong meant no such luxury. Transmigrators couldn't act with complete freedom. Trapped in the game, they remained destiny's pawns just like anyone else.
Whether Reverse-Flash from the twenty-fifth century, Emerald Empress from the thirty-first, or that so-called First Lantern who'd transmigrated ten billion years—all proved this truth.
An invisible hand seemed constantly pushing her forward. Now this thread offered Thea a possibility—perhaps she could escape destiny's bonds?
Discussing the future seemed premature. Stripped of special powers, Thea ranked as a moderate powerhouse on Earth and in the universe. But so what?
Even multiversal juggernauts like Darkseid and the First Lantern had predetermined fates. How could someone with her limited strength escape destiny?
Thea tried placing the Fate thread in her mental space, but unfortunately, it wouldn't enter.
Hide it somewhere? She didn't feel comfortable with that. She finally understood—Zeus likely hid it in the Golden Fleece precisely because the Fate thread couldn't be stored away.
With no better solution, she couldn't hide the fleece itself or parade around carrying wool constantly. She chose to conceal the thread in her hair. As a blonde, it blended perfectly.
With the Fate thread removed, the Golden Fleece still gleamed brilliantly, but in Thea's eyes, it no longer held immeasurable value—just a decent decorative item now.
"Want me to make you a scarf?" Thea teased her long-legged goddess. For combat-focused deities like them, this wool served little practical purpose.
Diana smiled, recognizing her playful tone.
The next day, Hera privately asked Thea's thoughts on the Underworld invasion.
Having received benefits—tremendous benefits, even—despite Hera's poor judgment being the main factor and Thea's concealment being secondary, they'd completed their transaction. Thea could accept her payment with a clear conscience. It was voluntarily given, after all. Still, with Zeus alive, she felt some guilt.
"Your Majesty, I'll offer three suggestions," Thea said. Having taken such rewards, she couldn't slack off. If Hades conquered Olympus, accepting payment would feel dirty. But if her efforts resolved the crisis, even if Zeus eventually remembered, he'd have no complaints.
"Oh? Please speak," Hera said seriously, seeing Thea's earnest expression.
"First, I suggest recalling Heracles. He's crucial to Olympus's combat power."
"Wait, you're saying Heracles is still alive?" Hera asked incredulously.
"I saw him recently. He just escaped from his imprisonment," Thea confirmed, waiting for Hera to process this news.
Honestly, Hera and Heracles's relationship had solidified at the hatred level in Thea's assessment.
Heracles was Zeus's son with Alcmene—Zeus's own great-granddaughter, disgustingly. Their relationship and Hera's feud with Heracles could fill another book.
"What's your next suggestion?" Hera asked through gritted teeth, clearly reluctant.
"Ally with Poseidon and invade the Underworld!" Thea stated with absolute certainty.