The path after demigod was New God. As long as one obtained the "Source," anyone at the demigod level could ascend to New God status. Being at demigod peak wasn't mandatory.
Thea had never encountered a New God. She didn't know the difference between ascending as a peak demigod versus an ordinary one. She could only rely on conventional thinking—perhaps peak ascension led to higher future achievements.
How to obtain this "Source" had troubled her for a long time. If she didn't want to grovel before the Highfather and Darkseid on New Genesis and Apokolips, begging cutely for adoption, then she could only search for wild "Source."
Zeus had searched for thousands of years without finding any. Thea's luck couldn't possibly be that miraculous.
That left her with one choice: find the "Source" behind the Source Wall.
Initially, she'd considered mastering all seven emotions, evolving into a White Lantern, and entering the Source Wall. Behind the wall lay the Reservoir of Emotional Energy for the entire universe, the Life Equation, and many "Sources" that Thea imagined hanging like apples on trees.
This method was both dangerous and uncontrollable. Kyle Rayner became the White Lantern and could enter—could she? Kyle went in and lost his memory. Whether something inside was influencing him, no one knew. Whether what came out was even the same person was questionable. Thea lacked adventurous spirit. If there was even a ten percent chance of failure, she'd be cautious and then more cautious.
Fortunately, another method appeared soon after. Using Excalibur and her new talent, she could communicate with all living beings through the sword. Offering enormous collective willpower might change the rules and draw the "Source" out from behind the wall.
This method seemed far safer than ramming her head into the wall.
Of course, the prerequisite was Thea doing massive amounts of order-related deeds. Hoping to lure out the "Source" with praise from a hundred or so people was impossible. By her own calculations, activities like Superman helping people in need might count as one unit of willpower. Accumulating at this level would require at least one billion units to possibly draw out the "Source."
A long and arduous road ahead. Not just willpower—Black Adam and Shazam still had no leads.
She'd already made numerous clones of the brat Billy Batson. Enough to organize a wrestling team. But the old Shazam's custody transfer still needed a few years. He lived in a subspace pocket—if he didn't come out, others couldn't get in.
Billy the brat was easy to handle. When the time came, gag him, have the clone with the most similar voice shout "Shazam" to receive the power, then gift it to Thea. That's right—direct gifting. No ritual, no sacrifice. Safe, fast, with zero complications afterward.
Black Adam was far more troublesome. Thea only remembered that in the original timeline, he'd been sealed somewhere in the Middle East. The famous archaeologist Dr. Sivana found his seal location and released him.
Finding the seal location would solve everything. Black Adam's strength was decent but not untouchable. Set up traps beforehand, wait for him to emerge, gang up on him, knock him out, extract blood, clone him—then get back on track.
The key problem was she couldn't find it despite searching everywhere. Thea hadn't just planted informants in Dr. Sivana's expedition team—several major expeditions near the Middle East all had her people. Yet after spending countless time and money, she hadn't found anything.
Everything seemed to tell her: the time isn't right. She needed to continue being patient.
Returning to Metropolis, she immediately began preparatory work for doing good deeds.
Facing the dazzling array of difficult and rare diseases on the market, a cure-all? Not only didn't she have one, even if she did, she wouldn't release it immediately.
Thea selected two diseases with large patient populations to begin initial R&D. Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis—a motor neuron disease where patients typically survived only two to five years. Not a single cure existed.
Additionally, she chose spontaneous interstitial pneumonia. Patients lived only six months. The sole treatment was lung transplant, with pathetically low success rates.
Leveraging her deep expertise in genetics, leading her corporation's scientists, she researched for half a month. Both new drugs entered clinical trials.
Compared to Luthor's side where cutting-edge technology abounded, merely developing two specialized drugs wouldn't raise suspicion.
But sometimes, speak of the devil. She'd only left the lab two days when Luthor came knocking.
Seeing him dismiss his entourage, Thea asked leisurely, "What's up?" Both were in Metropolis but maintained a mutual avoidance policy. This was the first time she'd seen Luthor since the Kryptonian incident. This man who wanted to pull Superman off his pedestal seemed emotionally agitated today—quite different from his usual composed demeanor.
"You developed a specialized drug for ALS, correct?" Thea had considered many possibilities, but hadn't expected him to bring up the specialized drug.
The clinical trials had already begun. Those who needed to know basically knew. She'd need to rely on these drugs to treat patients going forward. Nothing to hide. Thea nodded, openly acknowledging it.
"Can I see the current clinical reports?"
This urgent? Thea couldn't quite figure it out. Direct theft of trade secrets? She didn't consider it. Both corporations were massive. The market for one or two specialized drugs was insignificant to them both.
"Sure." Thea pulled a thick report from her desk and handed it to him. He could definitely understand it—she had no doubt about that.
Luthor indeed could understand. He'd also gone far down the cloning path. Genetics wasn't difficult for him. But Thea had the entire universe and all Kryptonian knowledge backing her. Self-study would inevitably have blind spots he hadn't noticed.
The first few pages of disease introduction he read quickly. The later sections on treatment process and results received careful attention.
Thea busied herself with her own work. Luthor could look all he wanted, but expecting her to serve him tea would be absurd.
The room fell extremely quiet. Only the scratching of Thea's pen and the rustling of Luthor turning pages remained.
"My sister has this disease too." After finishing the report, Luthor exhaled deeply, speaking as if to himself.
"Lena Luthor?" Thea was somewhat surprised. That very well-behaved little girl still held proxy shares in her new corporation. She just hadn't seen her in a long while.
"Yes. It's been a year already. I've wanted to develop a cure too, but never had confidence... Your drug... Are you certain there are no aftereffects or similar issues?"
Thea smiled. "Rare to see you so concerned. Of course I'm confident. You saw the experimental reports. I don't need to explain further."
Luthor suppressed his inner excitement, saying "good" three times, then left Quinn-Merlyn Group without another word.