It all started when Dani complained to Clockwork in his tower about how being human meant she didn’t have any powers. No phasing, no invisibility, and no ghostly escape routes—just regular legs and a lot of running when things went wrong.
The next morning, both Danny and Dani woke up with superspeed.
It was awesome, if you ask them.
They could run halfway across the country and be back in time for lunch. They were having the time of their half-lives.
They went to thank Clockwork for the upgrade, but he just gave them a look.
His Ex had something to do with it, not him.
His two Wards had gotten a blessing by none other than the Speed Force. Now, Clockwork figures he owes his Ex a favor. He should help the Flash family once or twice, then. In return.
“—and when I reset the timeline, the singularity stabilized,” he said, pacing slowly in front of the table. “Most of the damage reversed itself, but a few fixed points shifted. Nothing major. No mass casualties this time.”
Batman was already reviewing data on a holographic screen.
“So you altered a fixed event,” Batman said. “Again.”
Barry winced. “I prefer to call it adjusting.”
Wonder Woman crossed her arms. “You gamble with history too easily, Flash.”
“I know, I know,” Barry said quickly. “But people are alive because of it. That has to count for something, right?”
Green Lantern leaned back in his chair. “I’m just saying, man, one day the universe is gonna send you a bill.”
Barry opened his mouth to reply—
—and a green portal tore open behind him.
Not a boom tube.
Not magic like Zatanna’s or Constantine’s.
Not Speed Force energy.
This was wrong.
The air folded in on itself, glowing an unnatural, sickly green, like light filtered through deep water.
Something stepped through.
No.
Rode through.
A massive, bat-winged Alicorn burst from the portal, with sharp fangs and teeth, red eyes, a horn on the top of his head, and a flaming green mane. It also wears an armor around its head and neck with an insignia of a pumpkin with bones going through it.
On its back sat a knight in gray and black, jagged armor, a helmet that obscured his entire face with a mow hawk of spikes at the top. His cape was made of purple fire, trailed behind him.
The room went dead silent.
Every member of the Justice League went into combat stance in the same heartbeat. Superman moved half a step forward. Aquaman gripped his trident. Green Arrow nocks an arrow.
The knight raised one gauntleted hand.
The temperature in the room dropped as the being spoke. His voice echoed unnaturally, layered, like it came from a cathedral and a grave at the same time.
“By decree of His Majesty, the Ghost King,”
“the presence of one Bartholomew Henry Allen is hereby demanded.”
Barry froze.
“…My full name?” he squeaked.
The horse stepped forward.
Once.
Twice.
“Wow, hey— Wait a second” Barry said, backing up a step. “Can’t we talk about this?”
In the blink of an eye, the knight moved in fluid motion, he leaned down, grabbed Barry by the back of his suit, and hauled him up like he weighed nothing.
“WAIT—!” Barry shouted.
The group of heroes finally snapped out of their shock as Wonder Woman, Batman threw a batarang, Green Lantern projected a barrier.
The knight swung him around and tossed him over the back of the spectral horse.
Barry barely had time to grab on before the horse reared.
The portal flared brighter.
“FLASH!” Wonder Woman shouted.
Superman shot forward—
But the horse leapt.
Straight into the portal.
The green light snapped shut behind them as the Watchtower was silent.
No portal. No knight. No Flash.
Just scorched air and frost on the floor.
Green Lantern lowered his construct slowly. “…”
Batman stared at the empty space where Barry had been.
“…That,” Hal said weakly, “did not look like a time wraith.”
⸻
Barry didn’t know when the Watchtower became something else.
One second, he was clinging to a horse for dear life.
The next—
Endless stone.
The air shifted, heavy and cold, carrying the faint scent of ozone and something older. Not rot. Not dust. Just age. The kind of age you felt in your bones.
They thundered down a massive hallway.
High vaulted ceilings. Pillars carved with symbols Barry didn’t recognize. Green fire burned in sconces that gave off no heat.
This wasn’t a ruin.
This was a castle that had never needed to decay.
It had simply… always been.
The spectral horse slowed.
The knight pulled to a stop in front of a towering set of double doors, black metal banded with unique carvings.
Without ceremony, he grabbed Barry again and set him down hard on his feet.
“Oof. Okay. Thanks. Gentle,” Barry muttered, straightening his jacket.
“Wait here,” the knight commanded.
He dismounted, patting the horse’s armored neck.
The alicorn snorted softly, green vapor curling from its nostrils.
The knight knocked once.
Heavy. Final.
From the other side of the door came a voice.
Young.
Tired.
“Come in.”
The knight opened the door and stepped through.
It shut behind him.
Barry was alone.
With the alicorn.
Barry shifted his weight.
The horse stared at him.
He glanced sideways.
The horse’s glowing eyes didn’t blink.
“…So,” Barry said, forcing a nervous smile. “You uh. Come here often?”
The horse tilted its head.
Barry looked away.
He could feel it still staring.
Thirty seconds passed.
Maybe a minute.
Then the doors opened again.
The knight stepped out.
“The King will see you now.”
Before Barry could respond, the knight mounted his horse in one smooth motion.
The spectral steed turned and trotted back down the hall, hooves echoing until both rider and mount vanished around a bend.
Barry stood there.
Alone.
With a door.
“…Right,” Barry whispered. “Cool. Cool cool cool.”
He raised a hand and knocked.
From the other side came the voice again, “Come in.”
Barry took a breath and opened the door.
He didn’t know what he’d been expecting.
An ancient lich.
A towering demon.
A glowing, incomprehensible being of pure energy.
What he got was a kid.
White hair. Pale skin. He wore dark royal robes, the fabric shifting like mist. Above his head floated a crown made of green flame, hovering without touching him, flickering gently.
That was the King.
The boy barely looked up at first, too focused on the mountain of paperwork spread across an enormous black desk.
“Hold on—” he muttered, scribbling something down. “—if that soul file isn’t reconciled, Clockwork’s gonna yell at me again…”
Barry stood there, frozen.
The boy glanced up briefly, eyes flicking over Barry, then back to the papers.
“Yeah, yeah. Come in. Sit.” He waved lazily to a chair across from the desk. “This’ll just take a sec.”
Barry sat.
Mostly because his legs decided to on their own.
The boy finished signing something, stamped it with a glowing green seal, and finally set the stack aside.
Then toxic glowing green meets blue.
The room felt heavier.
“Okay,” the boy said. “I’m Phantom. The Ghost King, ruler of the Infinite Realms.”
Barry blinked.
“…You’re kidding.”
Phantom tilted his head. “Nope.”
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Also known as the High Sovereign of the Dead, Tyrant-Slayer, Conqueror of Stars—” he made a vague hand motion, “—Breaker of Chains, Warden of the Veil, yada yada. There’s more, but honestly, I stopped keeping track.”
Barry stared.
“…You look sixteen.”
Phantom’s mouth twitched. “Yeah. I get that a lot.”
Barry gestured weakly around the room. “So. Where exactly am I?”
“The Infinite Realms,” Phantom said easily. “The in-between. The place souls pass through before moving on. Home of ghosts. Also the connective tissue between every dimension, universe, timeline, basically if reality’s a spiderweb, this is the webbing.”
Barry frowned. “So… like a cosmic waiting room?”
Phantom considered that.
“…That’s actually not the worst description I’ve heard.”
Barry hesitated, then finally asked the question burning in his chest.
“Okay. Then why exactly did you have your… knight guy kidnap me from the Watchtower?”
Phantom leaned back in his chair.
His expression shifted.
Not angry.
Not cruel.
Just… tired.
“Because, Barry Allen,” Phantom said, folding his hands on the desk, “you are making an absolute mess of my paperwork.”
Barry exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Okay… hold on. Back up. You keep calling yourself Phantom. What does that even mean? Because I’m pretty sure I haven’t— you know— messed with any ghosts.”
Danny’s glowing eyes soften just a fraction.
“You didn’t,” Phantom says. “Not directly.”
Barry relaxes for half a second, until Phantom continues.
“But you did something worse.”
Barry stiffens. “Worse than messing with ghosts?”
Phantom folds his hands together on the desk. “You tampered with souls.”
That gets Barry’s full attention. “I— what? No, I didn’t. I just— I changed time.”
“Yes,” Phantom says calmly. “That’s the problem.”
He stands, moving around the desk, the faint glow of his crown casting ghostly light across the floor.
“Every time someone dies, their soul passes through the Infinite Realms. As Ghost King, I am responsible for processing their arrival. Their status. Their eventual moving on. Every soul has a record. Every transition has paperwork.”
Barry blinks. “That’s… a lot of paperwork.”
“You have no idea,” Phantom mutters, then continues.
“When you altered the timeline, people who were once dead suddenly… weren’t. Their souls were here. Logged. Filed. And then—” He snaps his fingers softly. “Gone. No record of them moving on. No transfer. No destruction. Just… missing.”
Barry frowns. “Because they were alive again.”
“Yes,” Phantom says. “They go back to being alive in your universe.”
Barry opens his mouth to respond, but Phantom keeps going.
“Then there are the opposite cases. People who were once alive,have suddenly appeared in the Realms as dead. With no cause. No arrival event. As if they’d been dead for years and no one bothered to file it.”
“That doesn’t make any sense—” Barry starts.
“And then,” Phantom continues, voice sharpening just a bit, “you did it again. The ones who came back to life? Dead again. New dead. New living. Records contradicting themselves. Souls appearing, disappearing, reappearing. Entire chains of causality breaking.”
Barry finally snaps, “But I fixed it! I reset the timeline! No one remembers the other versions— it’s supposed to be like the original!”
Phantom sighs. A long, tired, very un-teenage sigh.
“In your universe, yes. But the Infinite Realms exist outside of your timeline. Outside of your resets. We remember everything.”
Barry goes very still.
“That means,” Phantom continues quietly, “we remember every soul that arrived… every soul that left… and every soul that was supposed to went back or was not supposed to arrive yet.”
Barry’s voice is small now. “So you’re saying… you remember every version.”
“Yes.”
Silence hangs heavy between them.
Barry looks down at his hands. “I didn’t know. I was just trying to save people.”
“I know,” Phantom says. “And you are far from the first Flash to sit in that chair.”
Barry’s head snaps up. “First?”
Phantom tilts his head. “The Infinite Realms connect to the entire multiverse. There have been many speedsters. Many Flashes. Many broken timelines.”
Barry swallows. “That’s… not comforting.”
“It’s not meant to be.”
Phantom moves back behind the desk and pulls out a thin stack of papers, sliding them across to Barry.
“I have a proposal.”
Barry hesitates, then picks them up. “A contract?”
“Yes,” Phantom says. “If you sign it, you agree not to change the timeline. No deliberate alterations. No ‘fixing’ things by running back in time.”
Barry’s jaw tightens. “I can’t just— what if there’s an emergency?”
“Then you request an audience,” Phantom replies. “You explain your case. I decide whether the change is permitted.”
Barry looks up, incredulous. “You want me to ask permission to save people?”
“I want you to think before you rewrite existence,” Phantom says evenly.
Barry scoffs. “And if I don’t sign?”
Phantom shrugs, far too casually for what he says next.
“Well, considering your ability to travel time comes from your speed, then I sever your universe’s connection to the Speed Force.”
Barry goes pale. “You— you can’t— that wouldn’t just punish me. That would punish every speedster.”
“I’m aware,” Phantom says. “Which is why these exist.”
He slides more papers across the desk.
Barry looks down. His stomach drops. “Contracts… for the others.”
“Yes. Same terms. Same consequences.”
Barry grips the papers, anger and fear battling on his face. “You’re holding my entire universe hostage.”
Phantom doesn’t flinch, but something in his expression shifts. The glow in his eyes dims just slightly.
“This isn’t about leverage,” Phantom says quietly. “It’s about damage.”
Barry frowns. “Damage to what?”
“To souls.”
Phantom steps away from the desk, the flames of his crown flickering lower.
“When a timeline is rewritten, a soul isn’t just ‘reset.’ It’s pulled, twisted, layered over itself. The same soul forced to exist, die, return, and die again. Over and over.”
Barry’s breath catches.
“That kind of strain leaves fractures,” Phantom continues. “Memories that don’t belong. Echoes of deaths that never happened. Pieces that don’t quite fit anymore.”
“What happens if it keeps going?” Barry asks quietly.
Phantom meets his eyes.
“Eventually, the soul starts to unravel.”
Barry’s voice is barely above a whisper. “Unravel… how?”
“First, instability,” Phantom says. “Then erosion. And if it happens enough times—” He hesitates, just for a second. “The core collapses. The soul doesn’t move on. It doesn’t reincarnate. It doesn’t exist.”
Barry goes pale. “They just… disappear?”
“Not just in your universe,” Phantom says. “Across all of them. Every variant. Every possible version. Gone.”
Silence crashes down between them.
“I won’t allow that,” Phantom says firmly. “Not for convenience. Not for hope. Not even for good intentions.”
Barry looks down at the contracts, his hands trembling slightly.
“This isn’t punishment,” Phantom adds more softly. “It’s prevention.”
Barry is quiet for a long moment.
“You don’t have to decide right now,” Phantom adds. “Take a few days. Read everything. Then contact me.”
Barry looks up. “How?”
Phantom produces a ring and places it in Barry’s hand.
It looks similar to a Lantern ring, but simpler. Darker. Etched with faint, glowing symbols.
“Whisper into it,” Phantom says. “A portal to the Infinite Realms will open.”
Barry turns it over in his fingers. “It seems simple, can anyone use it?”
“No,” Phantom says. “It’s bound to your soul. If you lose it, it returns to you. If someone steals it, it returns to you.”
“That’s unsettling.”
“It’s efficient.”
Phantom stands. After a moment, Barry does too.
Phantom leads him to the center of the room.
“You are not a villain, Barry,” Phantom says. “But power without limits breaks more than it saves. Remember that.”
A portal opens, toxic green swirling like liquid fire.
Phantom gestures. “We will speak again.”
Barry hesitates at the edge of the portal, then looks back.
Phantom gives a small, tired smile.
Barry steps through.
The portal snaps shut behind him.
⸻
Light slams into Barry’s vision.
For a split second, all he can see is white and steel and motion. The sterile glow of the Watchtower. The hum of systems. The loud, overlapping voices of his teammates.
They’re talking. Fast. Urgent. Focused.
So focused they don’t notice the green-edged portal fading behind him.
They don’t notice him.
Barry blinks, his eyes burning as they adjust. His heart is still pounding like he’s running, even though he’s standing still.
He clears his throat.
Every voice in the room cuts off.
Heads snap toward him.
For a heartbeat, no one moves.
Then—
“Barry!”
“Where did you go?”
“Are you okay?”
“What happened?”
They crowd him, questions overlapping, hands on his shoulders, scanning him for injuries, for signs of magic, for anything that explains what they just saw.
It takes a few minutes before the noise settles enough for anything to make sense.
“Hours,” someone finally says. “You were gone for hours.”
Barry exhales slowly.
For him, it had been minutes.
Maybe less.
His fingers tighten around the stack of papers still clutched in his hand. The contracts. Proof that it hadn’t been a hallucination. That it hadn’t been a dream.
Someone looks down at them. “Barry… what is that?”
Bart Allen, but it's a design like it's an impulse in the absolute universe!!
So, basically, this Bart is a refugee from a dead timeline. He wears baggy clothes to hide the cooling suit that keeps his temperature within a normal range, and VR because his eyes are unable to focus on the real world except through a screen.
His future timeline was declared redundant after the consolidation of the Absolute Universe, so it began to collapse while he was inside a cryogenic stasis capsule. He was the only thing that survived thanks to the accumulated energy his body emitted.
He was a test subject in a sub-branch of the Olympus experiment, decades ago, created to push human potential to its limits, conducted by Barry Allen and Eleanor Thawne in the current Absolute Flash continuity (#10? I don't know, I hope DC doesn't change this or I'm going to cry).
The idea was to make scientific advancements that would "liberate" humanity: instantaneous time travel, the ability to communicate with anyone, anywhere, the ability to detect any disease or defect at a molecular level and treat it before it even occurs.
This was government-funded, so the real idea was to create more and better weapons.
At some point in the past (Flash Absolute #2), during tests to prove its effectiveness, the machine malfunctioned, hitting Wally instead of the intended test subject. Wally, then 15 years old, gained super speed. But as a teenager with a more developed body, his energy was unstable and uncontrolled because his newly formed cells struggled against friction; therefore, he was discarded, but not his cells. To create a perfect human weapon, they would have to implement speed and energy at a cellular level, someone who grew up with this power from a young age and from within. So, they used the womb of a descendant, along with cells collected from the failed experiment.
Many years later, before Bart even had the consciousness to perceive reality and recognize himself in it, he was already being used by scientists to study his body and abilities. As soon as he was born, he was separated from his mother and kept captive in a cryogenic capsule to freeze his growth, fed by cooling probes and trained by dozens of simulations in his head.
I have a lot more lore, but I'm a little embarrassed to continue 🩷kajdjxk
Danny was pissed. He was chilling in the Speedforce, waiting on his dad—the Flash—to show up when he felt something shift around him. He exited the speedforce to find that the timeline had changed again, and he had been written out of the timeline. He technically was a time anomaly now, and didn’t exist. So he talked to Clockwork, a ghost he’d gotten to know extremely well after Danny’s creation.
Danny was a clone of the Flash and Green Lantern(Hal Jordan) as part of an experiment that Lex Luthor had taken prior to cloning Superboy. Lex had wanted to know if the power ring was able to transmit anything genetically (it couldn’t. It was a wearable weapon, not a genetic thing.) but Danny had inherited Flash’s superspeed, so he wasn’t a complete loss. Danny wasn’t sure if he looked more like either man, considering they both wore masks. He had brown hair and green eyes. Beyond that, he tanned well, was tall for his age, and packed on muscle far easier than the Flash did. He hadn’t ever seen either man out of the costume.
After a talk with Clockwork, he decided he was just going to force his way back into his Dad’s life. Both of them, if possible. He arrived years before his creation by mistake, right near the start of the Justice League. By his estimates, the team had only been formed for a year before he’d arrived. It was strange; he both didn’t exist and was from the future. He guessed that it was around nine years before his birth, and since he was technically six months old, he was 9 years in the past. Thinking about this was going to give him a headache.
The Justice League was severely mistrustful of each other. They didn’t go out of their way for teamups, didn’t have weekly meetings, and almost pretended if the other members didn’t exist. The most recluse of them was Batman, of course. If any hero set foot in Gotham, they were booted out before they even got to downtown. Danny highly suspected Batman had the entire city on camera. The situation was weirding him out more than before. What had happened to the team?! He was used to everyone being one big family, and even the sidekicks having their own teams… speaking of sidekicks, why was Robin so small?! Wait a minute, that wasn’t the third Robin that he was used to, that was the first Robin! Baby Nightwing!
Thankfully for him, he still had his costume on this entire time as he zipped around the country, spying on the younger members of the Justice League. It was surreal watching everyone try to capture him, but he wasn’t going to be caught that easily!
Eventually his presence forced the Justice League into another teamup. Batman laid the trap out, and Flash lured him into it. The plan was so beautiful that he didn’t even realize it was a trap until he was caught in it. Green Lantern took off Danny’s mask, and for the first time, he looked at his fathers without a mask. They didn’t make the connection to him right away. It wasn’t until Wonder Woman’s lasso made its way around his wrist that the truth finally came out.
“Who are you?” Wonder Woman asked.
“Oof , hard question—ow ow oww—I’m being honest!” He struggled against the lasso as it started to burn him. “My designation was Dn-y, I go by Danny, though. I’m a clone.”
“Of who?” Batman demanded.
“Flash and Green Lantern.” The lasso was glowing brightly, indicating that he was telling the truth.
“How did you escape?” Flash asked.
He didn’t answer right away. He was trying to think about how to phrase the whole time traveling—timeline erasure thing when the lasso started to burn him again. “Ow ow! Sorry, I’m thinking! Ow! Turn down the settings on that thing, holy shit—okay, okay.” He winced, his words coming out in one breath as he quickly talked, “What do you know about time travel?”
Diana’s eyebrows were rising. “How are you able to resist the lasso for so long?”
“I’m not really resisting it.” He answered, noting the obvious deflect of his last question, “I just-oww—okay! My mind moves too fast for me to put into words sometimes and it makes me stop to think about it, but like, I’m not good at controlling the speed in which I speak all the time—owww make this thing stop burning me! I’m speaking honestly!”
Diana revoked the lasso, and he rubbed his wrist where his costume was starting to singe. He was still trapped in an anti-speedster prison, so it wasn’t exactly like he was going anywhere anyway.
“Why were you asking about time travel?” Batman asked.
“Based on the crickets chirping I heard earlier, that leads me to believe you guys haven’t had any experience in it yet.” He leaned against the wall of the prison, wincing as it shocked him with electricity. “Seriously? How paranoid are you, Batman?” He rubbed his shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t know what I was expecting with you people, but I feel so attacked right now.”
“So we have experience with it in the future?” Superman piped up.
“Yeah?” His tone of voice equated to a ‘duh’ tone. “Why would I ask what you knew if I wasn’t from the future?”
“How far in the future are you from?” Green Lantern asked.
“Nine years, maybe close to ten? Timelines are weird. I’m technically six months old, but at the same time I’m sixteen. Cloning is odd, but I was like, the first clone ever, so I don’t really have a basis for this sort of thing, if you catch my drift.” He shrugged. He seemed like he talked a lot more than the heroes did, but he didn’t know if that was because he was a chatterbox, or because they weren’t comfortable in each other’s presence. Either way, the silence was odd to him.
“How did you end up here?” Batman asked.
“Honestly? I don’t fully know. Don’t give me that look, Diana! I’m telling the truth.” He added quickly as Diana fingered her lasso again. “All I know is one minute, I’m chilling in the Speedforce, and the next, the timeline is changed and I’m nine years too early for my birth. You’d think the timeline would at least have the decency to spit me out in my own year, but nooo, it wanted to—“
“What’s the Speedforce?” Superman interrupted.
He tilted his head at Superman’s question, then turned to the Flash. “How long have you had your powers?”
Flash shifted uncomfortably. “Two years.”
“Oh boy.” Danny’s green eyes widened. “You don’t know anything about them, do you?”
“I do know things!” Flash deflected, “My suit doesn’t catch on fire anymore! I can run up to Mach 2! I can get from either end of the country in thirty minutes!”
He groaned loudly. “Oh no. Oh no.” He chewed on his thumb, trying to recall everything he’d learned about his powers from his Flash. While he hadn’t learned his or Green Lantern’s identity yet, he knew almost everything about their hero personas and a lot of personal information. They were just worried of the Cadmus connection and didn’t want their identity to fall into the wrong hands if they still could see inside of Danny’s head.
“What’s wrong?” Diana asked.
“Okay.” He ran his hands through his brown hair, making it spike up. “Hypothetically—“ he cut himself off as Batman glared at him. “Okay, totally real, but uh, Flash, let’s just say that I’m faster than you right now. A lot faster.”
“How much?” Flash took a step forward, obviously curious.
“From what we can tell, I’ve topped out at Mach nine.” He responded with a dry laugh, “But your speed was still a lot faster than mine. You’d never tell me what it was. I’m still growing though, and I’m getting faster. I’m able to beat my precious time by almost double each time we test. But my situation was complicated, and things were happening, and it was a mess.”
“Like what?” Superman asked.
“World war three. I think?” He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that he had picked up from Green Lantern, “Things got complicated. That’s why I was going to wait for…” his eyebrows scrunched together as the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “It was you!” He turned to Flash. “You!” He jabbed a finger at the speedster. “You set this up! You set ME up!”
The heroes took fighting stances, but Superman took a step forward, blocking them from Danny. “What are you talking about?”
“Okay okay.” He was trying to calm down his anger, but he had been told by Green Lantern in the past that he had inherited the man’s anger issues. “Let me start at the beginning. This is going to be a long story, you might want to take a seat.”
Nobody moved, but everyone was tense.
“Or not. Okay. So my creation starts with Lex Luthor.” He noticed Superman stiffen. “He used me as his trial, if you will. Once he got a successful attempt at cloning—me—he moved onto his real target. Cloning Superman.” Danny’s green eyes hovered onto Superman’s blue ones. “He was successful.”
“What happened?” Superman’s voice was unnaturally quiet.
“Well, at first, Conner wasn’t showing that he had all the powers of Superman. So Lex tossed him aside and tried again. The second attempt was more successful than the first. But cloning Kryptonian dna was hard, I guess.” He shrugged. “The second clone lacked basic emotions. Empathy, remorse… it made him the perfect little weapon for Lex. But eventually, the clone’s anger and Lex’s greed got to a point of no return. Lex was elected President of the United States and uh…you can probably see where this is going, right? While the fighting hadn’t like…’officially’ started,” He used his fingers to create air quotes around the word ‘officially’, “Things were getting tense. See, we couldn’t take the clone down because Lex had wrote out the Kryptonite deficiency out of his weakness. And the clone had all the strength of Superman and none of his remorse…”
Superman looked pale. “I see.”
“So Flash and I came up with a plan.” He turned back to his father, “We were going to travel into the next dimension for help. From what we could tell, that dimension was full of god-like beings, and one of them actually helped me out earlier! But for a lot of them, they ask for a price for their help. But anyway, Flash and I were going to take our case to the King and plead for help. I was waiting for Flash when the timeline reset and I found out that not only did I not exist, but I was nine years too early.”
“What are you going to do now?” Green Lantern asked.
“Dunno,” His voice dropped as the reality hit him. He wasn’t going home—his home didn’t exist anymore.
Barry Allen. The Flash. God amongst humans. Holds so much darkness inside one could think it takes only a small step to turn into something dark himself. Everyone knows it but him. Or does he? ⚡
