Until now, no one had ever seriously considered this possibility.
But the moment Sam voiced his suspicion, both Alex and Luthor's expressions shifted.
The power to dominate minds, bend wills, and force submission to the user of the Anti-Life Equation—it was, in essence, almost indistinguishable from the corrupting force Alex had long battled: the Pollutant.
"You're suggesting... the Pollutant is the Anti-Life Equation?" Luthor asked, unable to hide his astonishment.
Alex shook his head immediately. "No. The Pollutant originates from high-dimensional ideations—there's no doubt about that. What Sam's suggesting is something else: the Anti-Life Equation might not be the Pollutant itself... but a part of it. Or perhaps it was born from the Pollutant."
Alex had been waging war against corruption for a long time now. Ever since Deadpool had gone rogue and massacred part of the Marvel Universe, Alex had been journeying across tainted realities, trying to unearth the truth behind the Pollutant.
One question had always bothered him: Why did the corruption seem to exist only in the Marvel Multiverse? He had traveled through the DC Universe multiple times—but had never once detected traces of it there. So, by default, he'd never suspected its presence.
But now...
What if corruption wasn't limited to the Marvel Multiverse at all?
What if—like the Cthulhu Batman that had attacked him within Sentry's mindscape—corruption existed in every universe?
What if in each reality, it simply manifested differently?
And the Anti-Life Equation—a concept synonymous with death, control, and despair—might just be the DC Universe's form of corruption. That idea could be the missing piece in all this madness.
"I need to visit Flashpoint-1 myself," Alex said grimly. "If the Anti-Life Equation really is a form of controlled corruption... then this could become a disaster for the entire Multiverse."
"I'll begin preparations on my end too," Luthor replied immediately, already working through contingency plans in his head.
"Appreciate it, Luthor."
"No trouble at all. I serve the people now," Luthor said with a tired but genuine smile. His bloodshot eyes betrayed his exhaustion, but his tone was unwavering.
Alex opened his mouth to speak again—but suddenly, the entire room flickered into unreality.
In the blink of an eye, Luthor, Dean, and Sam were gone. Vanished like illusions. Only Alex remained in the office.
He paused… then turned around slowly.
"You're here," he said.
""Your power has grown again.""
The Watcher's presence emerged from the shifting air behind him. But this time, the entity looked stronger—not as frail and dim as before. The moment it laid eyes on Alex, it frowned instinctively.
""There's a… fulcrum signature radiating from you.""
"I know," Alex said evenly. "That power has anchored to me. I'd be surprised if you didn't notice it."
""So... you've dealt with the fallen ones.""
The Watcher sounded genuinely relieved—as if a weight had been lifted. Clearly, the corrupted Watchers had caused problems even among their own kind.
"More or less," Alex replied. "But a few of them never showed themselves. Judging by their silence... they're not done. They're just switching battlefields."
"I heard everything you said earlier," the Watcher began, its tone grave. "It seems we've all underestimated the situation. The Anti-Life Equation—under no circumstances—can be allowed to fall into the hands of those corrupted ones."
Clearly, the Watcher was taking this matter seriously. After all, the Equation originated from a different universe and was now somehow linked to the Pollutant. Whether it fell into the hands of Darkseid or the corrupted Watchers, the consequences would be catastrophic.
"This whole mess is on me," Alex said with a weary sigh. "If I hadn't revealed myself to you, the other Watchers might never have been corrupted. And the Flashpoint-1 Universe only got entangled with the Wastelands because of me."
"You're not to blame," the Watcher replied, shaking its head gently. "Blame lies with those whose wills weren't strong enough to resist corruption."
Then it looked directly at Alex, and its voice deepened.
"The Flashpoint-1 Universe was destined to collapse into entropy. You saved it. And because of you, we've had our first real confrontation with the Pollutant. In a sense... you've done a good thing."
Alex chuckled faintly. "That almost sounds like you're letting me off the hook."
"I'm merely stating the facts. Regardless, things are much clearer than they were. The situation is complex, yes—but if we can resolve this... I believe we'll finally bring it all to a close."
"To a close, huh..." Alex repeated, his eyes drifting toward the window. As he gazed out at the Wastelands—a world beginning to rise from the ashes—he felt a rare moment of calm wash over him.
"Do you have a plan?" the Watcher asked, standing silently beside him like a statue.
"Darkseid may not be your equal, but the corrupted Watchers won't go down quietly."
"No, they won't," Alex agreed. "Now that the two universes are connected, those corrupted ones can peer into that timeline through the Watchers' eyes. That means everything happening there is being watched... and potentially influenced."
"Except for one person," the Watcher said, tilting its head slightly.
"Me," Alex replied, knowing exactly who the Watcher meant.
"Yes. You're the exception."
The Watcher nodded and continued: "You exist under the Pollutant's shadow. Even we can only catch fragmented glimpses of your past—visions like mirages, immutable echoes of history. But your future? It's completely beyond observation."
Alex didn't answer. He just stood there in silence, staring out the window—his mind heavy with thoughts unspoken.
After a long silence, the Watcher spoke again.
"Time Bard… your choice is pivotal. This is our only chance—the one opportunity to end this, once and for all. Not just the corrupted Watchers, but the Pollutant as well."
Alex's voice was heavy with solemnity. "Do you really think we'll succeed this time?"
"To be honest, I don't know," the Watcher replied frankly. "But I believe nothing in this universe can truly bind you. You are the most unique existence in this world—something we can't comprehend. If anyone can redefine reality, Alex… it's you."
Alex gave a dry chuckle. "You know, one of those corrupted Watchers called me an 'intruder.'"
The Watcher simply shook its head. "I didn't know that."
With a sigh, Alex continued.
"You say I'm special… but he claimed I was something that shouldn't exist at all. Like a virus infecting a running program—if the Pollutant is a malware let in by flawed users, then I'm… a bug. Sometimes I wonder if I was just a mistake."
The Watcher looked at Alex with a rare flicker of surprise, but didn't interrupt.
"I've drifted through these universes for so long… I think I've forgotten my original purpose. With every battle, every world I get pulled into, it feels like I've lost a part of myself. Now it's like I'm being carried forward by inertia, not choice."
A faint, resigned smile tugged at Alex's lips.
"It sounds melodramatic now that I say it aloud. But maybe you're right—after this mess is over, once everything's settled… maybe I'll finally chase that original dream again."
"Your original dream…" the Watcher echoed, quietly staring at him.
"What was it?"
Alex paused at the question, thought for a moment—then slowly shook his head without answering.
He turned away, offering the Watcher a small, genuine smile.
"I'm just glad someone was willing to listen."
As the illusion dissolved, reality snapped back into place—Luthor, Dean, and Sam reappearing as if no time had passed at all. The Watcher was gone.
Looking at them, Alex shook off the weight of that otherworldly conversation and nodded with determination.
"We should get moving. I need to personally check on what's happening in the Flashpoint-1 Universe."
"Got it," Sam said with a nod.
Dean grinned. "Finally! Been wanting to see Pietro again. Missed that speedster."
The three of them descended from the top of the Federation Tower in the private elevator. This time, the Masked Lady didn't accompany them—Luthor had assigned her to a more critical task.
The early sun had begun to rise, casting golden rays over the misty city. The haze parted under the morning light, and it felt as though the world itself was breathing again.
As the elevator doors slid open and the trio stepped out, a strange calm settled over them. Something about this moment felt heavier than before.
Alex paused.
The wind brushed across his face. He turned, looking up toward the tower's peak.
Above, the sky was a pristine blue, and among its expanse, stars still shimmered faintly with an eerie brilliance. His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing as if sensing something beyond mortal sight.
"What is it?" Dean asked, walking up beside him.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Alex shook his head and gave a quiet smile.
"Nothing. Let's go."
...
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