Central City.
Barry Allen — the Flash — had finally shed the fatigue from days of chaos and was at home, casually cooking dinner. Beside him, Pietro and Ashley were lending a hand in the kitchen.
At first, things went smoothly. Tasks were divided up: chopping, prepping, organizing. With two speedsters in the kitchen, everything was ten times more efficient. Even when someone realized they'd forgotten to buy an ingredient, Barry zipped out, grabbed it, paid, and returned in under ten seconds.
But eventually, Barry slowly withdrew from kitchen duty, letting Pietro and Ashley take full control.
Now in the living room, Barry sat on the couch with a defeated look on his face. Across from him, Kara was watching the news broadcast.
"What's wrong?" Kara asked, noticing Barry's expression.
Barry sighed dramatically.
"Don't even ask. If I stay in that kitchen with those two lovebirds any longer, I'll be full just from the sugar in the air."
He mimicked Pietro's over-the-top tone.
"Oh Ashley~ I know you love beef the most, but you still have to eat your olives and broccoli! Let me make my signature dish, just for you~"
Then, switching voices: "Oh Pietro~ Since it's your cooking, I suppose I'll try it~ Ugh!"
Barry gave a theatrical shudder.
"Kara, how did I never notice how sappy Pietro is?!"
Kara chuckled softly.
"They say love makes you dumb. Maybe he's living proof."
"Dumb? Pietro's IQ might be in the negatives right now." Barry rolled his eyes.
Just then, Pietro poked his head out of the kitchen, holding a spatula.
"Hey! You little punk, talking behind my back?"
"I'm just stating facts," Barry shot back without the slightest embarrassment.
"You two are way too sweet, it's nauseating."
Ashley strutted out, arms crossed, smirking.
"And you? You don't even have the guts to be sweet with Iris. The world's falling apart, Barry, and you're still scared of your own feelings. Tsk tsk."
Barry flailed, clearly flustered.
"That's not fair! I—I just haven't figured out how to tell her, okay? Besides, you all know how dangerous our lives are. I worry—"
But before he could finish—
A violent gust of wind tore through the living room.
The air around them began to ripple, warping violently. A high-frequency sound, far above human hearing, exploded into the space. Then, right in front of them, the fabric of reality split open.
Instantly, everyone in the room snapped to attention.
In less than a second, Pietro, Barry, and Kara all donned their suits. Even Ashley's clothes transformed — the alien symbiote that bonded with her shifting into full combat mode.
The air cracked. Space tore open.
And from that rupture — a figure fell out of thin air.
Along with him… crashed a metal wheelchair.
After a heavy thud echoed through the room, the spatial rift suddenly contracted and vanished. The chaotic wind currents died down, leaving only a mess in the living room.
"Bruce!"
Barry Allen reacted first. In a flash, he recognized who had fallen. Pietro stood stunned, staring at the scene — a deep sense of déjà vu crawling up his spine, though he couldn't explain why.
A streak of red zipped across the room — Barry was already at Old Bruce Wayne's side, helping him up. Kara rushed in to stabilize the overturned wheelchair.
"That's Stark's magic-integrated Boom Tube module embedded in the chair," Kara explained quickly.
"It's a hybrid device that temporarily opens a Boom Tube and sends the user to the nearest beacon point."
Everyone knew Tony Stark had been obsessed with fusing magic and tech, though few knew how far he'd progressed. While his best-known invention was still the time-space distillery, those in the know — like Kara and Pietro — were well aware that after Stark witnessed the Mother Box and Boom Tube in action, he began his own experiments.
This portable Boom Tube launcher, discreetly built into Old Bruce Wayne's wheelchair, was one such result — a safety net created out of concern for Bruce's deteriorated condition.
They just never expected it would actually need to be used.
"Someone forcibly activated it… What the hell happened?" Pietro asked, his brows furrowing.
Everyone turned their eyes toward Old Bruce Wayne, who was gripping Barry Allen's arm with all the strength he had left.
"The Batcave… Batman is still inside."
"Damn it!"
Barry's face hardened. If Darkseid had somehow launched a surprise assault on the Batcave right now, it could devastate the Justice League. If something happened to Batman — this Batman — they'd be in serious trouble.
Without hesitation, Barry blurred into lightning and vanished from the room — racing straight toward the Batcave.
Old Bruce Wayne saw the streak of red disappear before he could finish his warning and began coughing violently in frustration. Kara dropped to his side.
"Who attacked you, Bruce? Tell us, who was it?"
Through raspy breaths and pained coughs, Bruce managed to croak out a name: "It was… Alex."
Thud!
His words struck like a hammer.
Even Kara, one of the most mentally resilient beings alive, felt the impact of that name like a blow to the chest.
"That's impossible!"
Before anyone else could speak, Ashley shrieked in disbelief.
"Why would Alex attack you!? That doesn't make any sense!"
"I… I don't know."
Bruce coughed again, pressing his hand to his chest. He couldn't accept it either — not yet. But this wasn't the time for doubts or theories.
He looked up, eyes wide with urgency.
"Barry can't go alone! No one should go alone! Get him back — now!"
Ashley's head whipped toward Pietro.
"Don't look at me!" Pietro snapped.
"You think I can catch up to Barry freaking Allen?!"
"Barry can't hear us while in Speed Mode."
Old Bruce Wayne's brow furrowed deeply.
"I'll go." Kara stood up immediately.
"No!"
Bruce's voice snapped like a whip.
"But—"
Kara tried to argue, but he cut her off sharply.
"No buts! It's obviously a trap. Whoever ambushed me and Batman knows us well. And you—being Kryptonian—your weakness to Kryptonite is too great. Going there is suicide!"
"But how could Alex—?" Pietro's voice cracked with urgency.
"That wasn't Alex!"
Old Bruce slammed his fist on the armrest of his chair, his eyes burning with a mixture of pain and certainty.
"It absolutely couldn't have been him. What matters now is getting the word out."
They'd let their emotions cloud their judgment. The idea that Alex—their Alex—had attacked the Batcave had shattered their composure. But Bruce's certainty broke through their panic like a bucket of cold water.
Cold sweat soaked Pietro's back as he looked toward Kara in alarm.
"If that fake Alex goes after someone else—"
Kara said nothing, but the tightness in her face and the furrow in her brow said it all: she was rattled to her core.
Without hesitation, Kara and Pietro activated the Bat-Net, relaying the situation to every active hero in the Justice League and beyond.
Ashley, still at Bruce's side, clenched her fists.
"But what about Barry? He's walking right into that trap!"
"There's nothing we can do."
Bruce's voice was low, heavy with guilt.
"We don't even know what we're dealing with, or what it wants. If The Flash can get Batman out in time, that's the best case."
He paused, eyes fluttering shut.
"…If not, he's on his own."
-----------------------------------
Elsewhere, in mere seconds, Barry Allen had already burst out of Central City.
Unlike some Speedsters who stumbled into their power, this Barry had received the Speed Force with help from variants of himself across the multiverse. He was a veteran — honed by countless battles and hardened by training under the original Batman himself.
Thanks to that training, Barry's speed had reached staggering levels — putting him on par with the best versions of the Flash from alternate realities.
From Central City to Gotham's Batcave, at full sprint?
Barely thirty seconds.
But as Barry tore across the terrain, something suddenly… shifted.
The Speed Force—his one true ally—began to waver.
It started as a flicker. Then a crackle. Then full-blown distortion.
"W-What the hell?!"
His body lurched uncontrollably.
Sparks danced erratically across his limbs. He tried to slow down—and was violently flung off course.
The momentum launched him off the highway, and his body skidded like a burning meteor across an open plain.
He finally staggered to his feet, battered but still conscious. Then… he saw it.
Barry's eyes went wide in horror, his jaw hanging open.
From inside his open mouth—a finger slowly pushed its way out.
Then another.
Then a whole hand.
It was as if someone was crawling out of his throat.
The sight was grotesque, alien. Like something out of a nightmare.
Two conflicting Speed Forces twisted and tangled around each other.
Barry Allen—mouth agape, body trembling—stood paralyzed, his consciousness already fading. And the thing inside him… kept crawling forward.
The figure that had crawled out of Barry Allen's mouth broke free with a burst of momentum, collapsing onto the ground in a heap.
"Hah—huff—hah—huff!"
He was clad in a blood-red speedster suit, unmistakably resembling a version of The Flash—but his mask featured grotesque, fly-like compound lenses, bulging out like the eyes of some twisted insect.
Trembling and crawling on all fours, the man gasped for air like a drowning survivor breaking the surface.
A crazed, manic grin twisted across his face—a grin carved by agony, obsession, and liberation.
"Finally... finally free... HAHAHAHAHA!"
.........
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