New York City.
The apartment building that once served as the Fantastic Four's public residence had gone through several upgrades and renovations. Now it stood as a tower that could rival the old Stark Tower, modern and imposing, its height dominating the skyline.
At the top gleamed the Fantastic Four's iconic logo, catching the eyes of everyone who passed by. Fans of the team often lingered near the building, hoping for a chance encounter with one of its legendary members.
At this very moment, on the street below, Johnny was surrounded by admirers. He had both arms draped casually around fans, flashing his trademark grin, his voice carrying as he greeted the crowd. The roguish charm that defined him had only grown with time. He thrived in it, enjoying every second of the attention. Perhaps in a few years, he would mature into something more steady, but for now, he was satisfied with the life he led.
Not far from the crowd, Flash stepped down from a bus. He tilted his head back, gazing at the enormous logo of the Fantastic Four.
His lifelong dream had been to become a hero, and he had worked toward it with everything he had, pushing himself harder each day. And like many others, he had made countless visits to this place, always filled with admiration.
But this time was different. For once, he could step into this building, not as a fan, but as someone invited.
A smile spread across his face.
After his conflict with Peter, regret had weighed heavily on his heart. He had been reckless, and he knew it. But one of his greatest strengths was the ability to admit when he was wrong.
He had been sure punishment was inevitable. His outburst would likely earn him a demerit serious enough to end his dream of becoming a hero. For most students, it would mean nothing more than a lost opportunity. But for him, it meant far more.
His right to attend LexTech High depended entirely on his potential to become a hero. If he lost that, then he would lose his place there as well. He would be forced to transfer to an ordinary school and live an ordinary life.
But instead of punishment, something else arrived.
An invitation.
The Fantastic Four had reached out, offering him a place as a trainee candidate for their junior program, the Fantastic Squad. It meant access to their resources, training directly under their guidance, and the chance to prove himself. If he succeeded, he would at the very least earn the title of hero. If he excelled, he could even join the Fantastic Squad itself, tying his future to the Fantastic Four.
It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And he would not waste it.
No matter what training awaited him, no matter how harsh it might be, he would endure. If Peter could grow into a true hero, why couldn't he do the same? That was his hope for himself.
Everyone knew Spider-Man was the purest kind of hero. He lacked the wealth of Iron Man, the ideals of Captain America, the overwhelming powers of Captain Marvel, and the endless ingenuity of Mister Fantastic.
What carried him forward was his kindness, stripped of all pretense, and a twist of fate that had given him his powers.
Most heroes would never willingly abandon their gifts. Tony had the Stark empire to think of. Steve bore the burden of Hydra's shadow. But Peter was not like that. As Spider-Man, he would give up his powers if it meant saving even one person.
It was why he stood as a symbol to so many, his spirit reaching the very peak of what heroism could mean.
Yet his light cast long shadows.
Flash, the boy so often dismissed as a side character in Spider-Man's story, had his own strength. In the comics, he inherited Peter's spirit without possessing extraordinary powers, but as a truly ordinary person who chose to fight on. He carried that will into becoming a superhero in his own right and accomplished things even Spider-Man could not.
Take Venom, for example. Eddie had slowly softened the symbiote through their partnership, reshaping its nature with companionship. But Flash did more. He confronted Venom as a hero, embedding justice into the mind of a creature consumed by violence.
His spirit and determination were nothing like the shallow portrayals in the movies that painted him as little more than a class bully or a clown.
Brimming with anticipation, Flash walked into the Fantastic Four's tower. He successfully registered as a trainee candidate and soon met the most elusive figure among the members, Nightwing.
What came next was nothing short of hell.
For those who had powers, Dick designed training regimens tailored to their abilities. But for people like Flash, whose gift was just heightened physical strength, the training was far harsher.
On the very first day, nearly half of the new trainees dropped out. They admitted their willpower wasn't strong enough, and though leaving meant forever losing their chance at becoming heroes, they simply couldn't continue.
But Flash persisted.
At the end of the day, after every grueling drill, after every test of will, he still managed to smile as he collapsed into his bed at the group dormitory. It was a sight that surprised even the others, many of whom had lighter regimens due to their powers. None of them smiled. But he did.
* * *
The residential floors of the tower were quiet. Susan no longer lived there, having married Luthor. Johnny was often out at nightclubs, barely seen after dark. Most of the time, it was only Ben and Dick living here.
Tonight, however, the former, who should have been on the phone with his soon-to-be bride, was instead in the living room, waiting for the latter to return.
"Ben, is something wrong?" Dick asked as he walked in.
"It's nothing too important. I just recommended someone, so it's only right to keep an eye on him. Can't dump all the trouble on you, can I?" Ben replied with a smile. "So, what about that kid called Flash? He shouldn't be holding anyone back, right?"
Dick shook his head but smiled. "Not the strongest naturally. If he relies only on the body-modifying serums from Vought, even if he completes all the training perfectly, he'll just be another street-level hero. But his willpower is rare. If not for his mother still being alive, I'd be tempted to toss him into Gotham and give the old man a little work to do."
Ben's lips twitched slightly as he listened. What a devoted son… Batman would surely 'take care of him' if he heard that. Who doesn't know the legendary Nightwing-Batman mentor duo can't scrape together a single parent between them.
"Well, in that case, I'm relieved," Ben said, rising from his seat. He didn't dwell further. The relationship between Dick and Batman was their private matter, not his concern. All he needed to know was that Flash hadn't held anyone back and that his recommendation hadn't put his partner in a bind. That was enough for him.
The rest would take care of itself.
The two exchanged goodnights and returned to their respective rooms.
Yet, in the earlier conversation, Dick hadn't said one thing: the way to gain superpowers was never limited to body-modifying serums. In this world, miracles could be created in numerous ways.
And just after he returned to his room, his phone buzzed with a message from Luthor.
"For Flash," he murmured softly, "this text is also his miracle."
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