"Thea! Get over here — spar with the kid for a minute!" She was drifting in her own thoughts when Diana's voice cut through. She looked up.
Diana was waving at her from across the room. The proud Amazon had finally reached her limit — she'd managed to scrape out a draw, barely, but Cassandra's level had genuinely surprised her. Time to call in reinforcements.
"Ha—" Thea started to smile. Then she caught the look Diana was giving her. Not a request. She swallowed the laugh.
She shrugged off her outer layer, revealing the fitted top underneath, tied her hair back, and took a slow breath — pushing every scrap of divine power deep, letting her body settle to something only slightly above ordinary human baseline. She wanted to see for herself just how good Cassandra really was.
"Do you need a minute to rest?" she asked.
The girl shook her head. Ready to go.
"Strong competitive spirit. This might actually be a problem." Thea didn't have that kind of competitive drive in her by nature. She'd come in planning to play around and keep it casual — but Cassandra was clearly taking this seriously. That earned a response in kind. Respecting your opponent was the foundation of martial practice.
Right foot forward, left foot back, hands raised. She settled into a stance and gestured for the girl to come.
Cassandra's eyes narrowed slightly. That opening — it was one of Lady Shiva's favorite stances.
For a moment it felt like time slipping backward. Like being a child again, just the two of them.
Then the memory dissolved. She was here, she was sparring. She locked her gaze on Thea and didn't blink.
Fast.
Two quick steps, closing the distance in an instant. Left jab straight at center. The moment Thea moved to block, she pivoted, torque from the waist, a side kick driving for the midsection.
"Quick feet." Thea compressed her power inward — nothing left but a step or two above human. Both palms swept down, catching the kick. At the same time she kicked low, going for Cassandra's supporting leg.
Cassandra bent her knee, launched — light as a bird — twisted in the air, and came back down with a foot aimed directly at Thea's face.
Thea tilted her head, letting the strike pass. Then she stepped in half a pace and drove her elbow toward Cassandra's shoulder.
The kick had missed. Cassandra's left hand snapped up, deflecting the elbow — but she'd already given up half a beat. Facing Thea's relentless forward pressure, she stayed calm, did three back handsprings in quick succession, and opened up the distance again.
"Come on." Thea reset her stance and waited.
They traded. Fast, precise, ruthless — and within a handful of exchanges the level difference was visible.
Cassandra's attack was fierce, her reaction time and combat instincts both at an exceptional peak. But she was still a notch below Thea. Just one — but it was there.
Thea's raw martial talent was solid. Malcolm had called her a "born fighter," and that wasn't empty flattery. But solid was relative. Against Cassandra, it looked average at best. What elevated her was that she hadn't stayed on the pure martial path. She'd grown in a different direction — stood at a different height — and from up there, she'd developed perspectives on combat that most practitioners never reached. Nobody could copy how she'd gotten here. But calling herself a contemporary martial artist? Nobody would argue.
Cassandra, by contrast, was still mid-climb. Her body hadn't fully grown yet. Her skills were still developing. Combat experience was thin — she led with her feet on the opening exchange, which said something: too eager, too driven by the need to win.
Against a focused Thea, the pressure was immediate. Batman trained her when he could, but his schedule was punishing and the time he could give was limited. Techniques between men and women differ anyway, and their styles didn't align perfectly — what Cassandra got from Batman was mostly experience, not core form development.
Thea was different. Lady Shiva's teaching had been thorough and uncompromising, and the style she'd internalized matched Cassandra's own path almost exactly: sharp, precise, efficient, brutal. Every exchange hit notes that Cassandra recognized in her bones. This was real fighting.
They went for fifteen minutes. When Thea saw Cassandra's energy flagging, she began to ease off — deliberately slowing her movements. To the onlookers, it looked like an even draw.
Others in the hall had been drifting over since the early exchanges. The sparring matches had paused. Even the wedding-planning trio had gotten curious. Kara had been dragged out of the suppression room by Alex — half-dead, looking like a wet dog — and deposited on the sidelines to watch.
"Her style is very close to the League of Assassins'," Sara Lance murmured, studying Thea with new eyes. "I've known her for years and I've never seen her fight like this. I always figured she was on the magic side, not the martial side..." What she was watching was unmistakably familiar — the bone-deep imprint of Lady Shiva's training was hard to mistake. She turned to Laurel. "Did she have ties to the League?"
Laurel had her own suspicions. But she was smarter than to go looking for confirmation. Did the truth matter? Everyone was here, together, and that was what counted. If she wanted answers, she suspected Batman would have them — but she'd never asked. She deflected her sister's question and turned her attention back to the ring.
There was a ceiling to martial growth in this world. No breaking through to another level, no transcendence — it simply wasn't possible. But that didn't make it pointless. Laurel needed to fight. Barbara needed to fight. Even Zatanna, even Constantine, had some physical foundation. They were enough to appreciate what was happening in front of them.
Among the League's full roster of heroes, female martial artists were nearly nonexistent. Outside of Thea and Shiva — both with the same first syllable, both apparently cursed to be the genre's exceptions — every practitioner of note was male. Cassandra was still a fighter on the rise — talented, instinct-driven, capable of punching above her weight in close-matched fights. Against someone focused and technically superior, the ceiling showed fast.
Facing a serious Thea, she felt the pressure immediately. But she also felt something click into place — the style, the angles, the intent behind every movement. It was familiar in a way that made her chest tighten. This is what I've been trying to find.
When Cassandra seemed on the verge of saying something after the match, Thea got in first: "I've set up a large illusion array in Building 15 on West Street. If you want to train, go there. Everyone who enters gets a perfect duplicate conjured from them — same abilities, same skills. You fight yourself. See your own blind spots. That's exactly what you need right now."
Cassandra's eyes lit up immediately. Fight yourself? That sounded — actually fascinating. She gave a quick bow, grabbed her jacket, and was out the door to find Building 15.
"You're just being lazy," Diana said, seeing right through her.
Thea scratched the back of her head. She was genuinely swamped. Setting up an illusion array — let whoever needs it walk in and work through it themselves. Self-directed breakthrough. Efficient. Cost-effective. A gift, really.
The offer proved contagious. Several heroines perked up at the news.
"Can my magic be duplicated in an illusion like that?" Zatanna asked.
"Yes," Thea said, without hesitation. Anything below her own level she could replicate at full fidelity.
Another few combat-hungry women sprinted for the door.
Kara also wanted to go. Alex grabbed her by the collar and hauled her right back into the small training room for more punishment.
The celebrity trio — Starfire, Livewire, Megan — headed out loudly to enjoy the attention of ordinary fans, or "go shopping," depending on how you framed it. The wedding trio organized themselves into a group outing to look at bridal gowns. Hearing about the excursion, Shado — currently in the process of becoming Oliver's bride — fell into step with them.