Central City.
Pietro and Ashley were rushing toward Gotham, carrying the aged Bruce Wayne with them.
They didn't yet know exactly what had happened there—but what they did know was that a multiversal catastrophe was about to engulf everything. This time, the safety of all worlds rested on their shoulders.
The threat of the Anti-Monitor and Darkseid was rapidly closing in. The entire world was descending into chaos.
It wasn't just terrified civilians—even some of the supervillains were running around like ants on a hot plate. Armed with whatever weapons they could grab, they stormed the streets, launching random attacks in every direction.
The Fiddler and Crusher hijacked an armored truck, speeding down the avenue with reckless abandon. They had no target, no destination—just pure, chaotic glee as they roared with laughter, firing wildly at storefronts on either side.
Then, suddenly—
A silver blur streaked through the chaos. In an instant, Crusher's submachine gun was yanked from his hands, and before he could even react, a violent force dragged him out of the driver's seat and hurled him to the pavement.
"Flash! You finally showed up!"
Crusher quickly rolled to absorb the impact and, without hesitation, threw a punch at the gust of wind rushing toward him.
This wasn't his first encounter with a speedster. He knew how dangerous their velocity could be—but Crusher's combat technique wasn't to be underestimated either.
After repeated battles with the Flash, Crusher had trained his reflexes to read the movements of speedsters. He tracked the trajectory, anticipated the next move, and launched a punch aimed directly at it.
He was confident. Flash couldn't take that hit.
But this time… he miscalculated.
A dull thud echoed as his punch was caught—cleanly, effortlessly.
Crusher blinked in disbelief as he felt the cold, metallic grip beneath his fist. Slowly, he raised his head, and what met his eyes was an unfamiliar face.
A man with silver hair, smiling calmly, made no effort to hide his identity. He just stood there, casually holding back Crusher's full-strength strike like it was a handshake.
"Hey man, you done messing around?" the silver-haired stranger tilted his head, his tone casual.
"Who the hell are you?" Crusher growled, trying to pull his hand back—but against the stranger's metallic arm, it was pointless.
The next thing he knew, his feet lifted off the ground—he was hoisted straight into the air. Before he could process what happened, he was dangling upside-down next to the Fiddler, both of them wrapped tightly in webbing, stuck to a streetlight.
Still dizzy, Crusher looked across and saw a short-haired woman clad entirely in a sleek black combat suit. She was swinging between buildings at high speed, riding her momentum back into the air—and she was carrying someone.
"Just when I thought dealing with Darkseid was already bad enough… now this freak shows up too?" Ashley muttered, effortlessly swinging through the skyscrapers, one hand gripping Batman.
She leapt off and landed gracefully on a streetlamp. Old Bruce Wayne, dangling from her arm, finally let out a long breath of relief.
Back in the day, he used to dart through Gotham's shadows like a ghost—but rooftop parkour and being carried by Venom-Spider Woman were not the same thing. Especially not at his age. It felt more like bungee jumping than crime-fighting.
"Is it handled?" old Bruce Wayne called down.
Soon, a silver blur came to a sudden stop.
"Central City's stabilized. Most of the civilians have been evacuated. I'd guess the other cities are in similar shape," Pietro replied.
"We need to get to Gotham as soon as possible," Bruce said, frowning deeply. "The energy readings there are the strongest—stronger than even Darkseid."
Hearing that, Pietro and Ashley exchanged uneasy glances and nodded. That spike of antimatter energy earlier had shaken even them—especially Ashley. Her whole body had been ringing with spider-sense alarms.
The last time she'd felt something of this scale... was from Alex. The memory sent a cold chill down both her and Venom's spine.
And then suddenly—
The space in front of them tore open.
"Bruce!"
A blinding milky-white light burst forth in the blink of an eye. Bolts of lightning shot wildly from the spatial rift, tearing through everything around it.
Pietro and Ashley stared, stunned, their minds going blank.
But Bruce's instincts kicked in immediately. He pushed himself up, peering down from the streetlamp at the figure emerging halfway from the rift.
"Barry?!"
Since their last encounter, old Bruce Wayne had been waiting for this moment—for Barry Allen to return.
He had imagined countless scenarios, drafted contingency plans for every outcome—but even now, his mind was still spinning with questions.
"Barry?" Pietro blinked in confusion.
If he remembered right, the Flash had been rendered unconscious and was still under treatment by Doctor Mid-Nite, right?
So where was this version of Barry Allen coming from?
"It's coming! It's almost here!!"
The Flash struggled desperately to emerge from the rift, but something was wrong. Half of his body remained trapped on the other side. His eyes swept across the three gathered before him—and then locked onto Bruce.
"Bruce! Tell me you've found Alex!"
"Alex…" Bruce furrowed his brow. "He's not here right now."
"What...?"
The moment those words left Bruce's mouth, Barry seemed to collapse internally, like the life had been drained out of him. He nearly dropped into the lightning-laced rift.
"What the hell is going on, Barry?!" Pietro shouted, brows furrowed tight. He made a move to rush forward and pull Barry out—but the surrounding lightning was so intense that he couldn't even get close.
"Pietro... the Crisis is coming."
The Flash slowly raised his head, his face grim as he shook it faintly.
"This was a mistake. All of this was a mistake. The Multiverse is being erased. There's nothing—no one—that can stop what's coming."
Seeing that this version of the Flash recognized Pietro, old Bruce Wayne's eyes narrowed. At last, he understood—this wasn't their world's Barry Allen. This was the one who had tampered with the Speed Force and triggered the original Flashpoint.
"What happened?" Bruce asked sharply.
"The Antimatter Wave," Barry said through gritted teeth.
"It's wiping out everything in its path—every parallel universe, every reality. Every known and unknown version of Earth… all reduced to nothing by the wave."
"Antimatter Wave?" Pietro turned to Bruce, his brow furrowed. It was the first time he'd ever heard the term.
Suddenly, the tips of Barry's outstretched fingers began to disintegrate—first the middle finger, then the index… until his whole hand started crumbling into shimmering white glass-like fragments.
"...It's too late. It's all too late," Barry said, staring at his vanishing hand, an expression of conflicted sorrow crossing his face.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this. None of this was supposed to happen…"
"Barry!" Pietro called out, his voice tense, noticing the changes spreading over the Flash's body.
But Barry only shook his head softly.
"My story ends here, Pietro."
With a faint sigh, Barry Allen seemed to surrender to his fate. He slowly closed his eyes.
"From here on... I leave it to you."
As he finished speaking, Barry's body completely broke apart—shattered by some strange, overwhelming force, disintegrating into pure nothingness.
With the Speed Force connection severed, the spatial rift behind him collapsed in a burst of white light, vanishing without a trace.
The three of them stood there, stunned, their expressions frozen in disbelief.
They stared silently at the space where the Flash had vanished.
"Antimatter Wave..." Bruce muttered, deep in thought, brows knotted tightly.
After a moment, something clicked in his mind.
"It's him. The one in Gotham."
If there was any being in existence capable of unleashing a catastrophe upon the entire Multiverse, it could only be one: the Anti-Monitor, born from the Antimatter Universe.
Everyone had assumed this world was His sole target. No one expected He had already extended His reach into other realities across the Multiverse.
"It's the Watcher!" Pietro suddenly blurted, his mind reeling as if struck by lightning. "The Watcher lured Him here—to our universe. He wants to use the Anti-Monitor to annihilate this Earth... and the Wasteland Universe along with it!"
"We have to find Alex," Ashley said, unable to contain her urgency.
But Pietro and Ashley's growing anxiety was halted by a quiet shake of the head from Old Bruce Wayne.
"I'm afraid we can no longer rely on Alex."
Bruce's voice was solemn and steady.
"His path lies far beyond our sight. Wherever he is… whatever he's doing… I can promise you this—"
"The crisis he's facing is far worse than ours."
-----------------------------------
Elsewhere…
In a quiet bar, beneath dim starlight, the Watcher gazed calmly at the man across from him—Alex. There was a strange gleam in his eye, unreadable and vast.
"You've already become part of the story, Time Bard," the Watcher said, smiling faintly.
"You think your enemy is the corruption? That every being who stands against your will is a villain?" He slowly shook his head.
"No… for this universe, you are the greatest 'threat.' It was you who shattered the delicate balance."
The Watcher lifted his finger and pointed directly at Alex.
"You're the invader."
Alex sat in silence, his hand resting on a glass of amber liquid. The words weighed heavily on him.
He thought back—over every world he'd walked, every foe he'd fought, every sacrifice he'd made. There were a thousand things he wanted to say… yet none would come.
The Watcher chuckled softly and raised his glass again.
"See? I'm not the one who set all this in motion, am I?"
There was a long pause. Then, finally, Alex spoke.
"That Rift…"
"The chasm stretching across the entire Multiverse—how did it form?"
At that, the Watcher's smile faded. He lowered his gaze to the glass in his hand. The rippling liquid slowly stilled, revealing Alex's reflection in its surface.
There was a quiet moment.
Then the Watcher replied, his voice low and cryptic: "You tell me."
....
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