They didn't have to wait long for Barry's return. Mere seconds after he'd vanished into distance, a red blur surrounded by crackling yellow lightning streaked back and stopped several feet from Ethan.
Barry's expression was frustrated and confused. "Something's wrong! Someone or something is stopping me from accessing more speed from the Speed Force. I can't break through the time barrier—it's like hitting a wall I can't phase through."
At that moment, Batman had already moved back toward his armory section of the cave and was preparing equipment.
Victor took several steps backward while activating his communication systems. "I'll contact as many heroes as possible for the final fight," he announced as his cybernetic components already reaching out across various networks.
Barry turned back to Ethan with mounting confusion. "What's going on? Why do I get the feeling something's going on here… and I'm the only one not in on it? and Do you know why can't I access enough speed? Who would even have the power to block the Speed Force?"
Ethan sighed deeply—the sound of someone explaining something they'd hoped wouldn't be necessary. "Eobard Thawne. The Reverse Flash. He's actively preventing you from drawing more Speed Force energy in this timeline. And there's something else you need to understand: you're going to lose your speed soon, along with your memories of the original timeline."
Barry's eyes widened in shock.
"Because you were never meant to have them," Ethan explained patiently. "The timeline is trying to correct itself. You're an anomaly—someone who remembers a reality that no longer exists. The universe is attempting to overwrite you with the version of Barry Allen who belongs in this world."
Barry's face paled as realization hit. He'd already suspected something like this was happening.
After Ethan had slapped him multiple times earlier, his memories had clarified—he now possessed full memory of both this timeline and the original. But the original timeline's memories were becoming increasingly blurry, like photographs left too long in sunlight.
And there were other changes he'd noticed. In the original timeline, Iris West had been his wife—his anchor, his love, his reason for being a hero. But in this world, Iris had married Eddie Thawne instead. They had two children together and were living happily in this cursed timeline... at least until the war had made happiness impossible for anyone.
The knowledge that his actions had stolen his own happy ending made Barry want to fix this timeline more than ever. "Then we need to find Thawne. If he's blocking me, we have to stop him first."
Ethan's voice carried grim certainty. "Keep your eyes on the news and monitor anyone connected to popular figures common to both timelines. Thawne will reveal himself soon—he's a sadist who wants to see you suffer. He'll want to watch you realize what this world has become, watch you understand that your attempt to save your mother has damned billions. He will troll you. That's his nature."
Barry's fists clenched with barely controlled anger.
Ethan's tone shifted slightly, becoming more distant. "And that's the last direct help you're getting from me. I don't make moves unless something genuinely piques my interest."
Then he slowly looked upward, his gaze seeming to pierce through the ceiling, through the manor, through the storm-dark sky itself. His irises began to glow blue and his vision extended—not physically, but through enhanced perception that let him see across vast distances.
His sight zoomed outward, traveling thousands of kilometers in an instant, scanning the space beyond Earth's atmosphere.
There... A yellow mass approaching the planet. Not a natural phenomenon—something alive, conscious, and radiating malevolent energy that fed on terror itself.
It is Parallax. The corrupted Guardian who had attempted to wield the power of fear and had been transformed into a living embodiment of that emotion. A cosmic entity of yellow light that sought to destroy the Green Lantern Corps and devour the universe itself. The archenemy of Hal Jordan and the greatest threat the Lanterns had ever faced.
A smile spread across Ethan's face—but this wasn't his normal, warm expression. This smile held something darker, more anticipatory.
'Barry's going to lose his mind when he sees Parallax,' Ethan thought with dark amusement. 'Only a willful Green Lantern or a sufficiently powerful magician can effectively combat a fear entity of that magnitude. Unfortunately, there are no Green Lanterns nearby—Hal Jordan is dead in this timeline. And no magician powerful enough to stop Parallax currently exists on this Earth.'
He turned his enhanced perception slightly and sensed another incoming threat, several Kryptonian ships moving toward Earth through phantom drive technology—a method of faster-than-light travel that utilized the Phantom Zone as a dimensional shortcut.
Ethan's interest intensified dramatically. That technology alone was worth studying. But there was more—the ships themselves contained advanced Kryptonian engineering. And somewhere on Earth was a scout ship with a Genesis Chamber capable of creating new Kryptonians from stored genetic templates.
And most valuable of all was the Codex, extracted from the infant Kal-El's cells, containing the genetic heritage of the entire Kryptonian species.
His grin widened considerably and he mentally thanked Barry for creating such an incredible feast of technology. 'Kryptonian ships, phantom drive, Genesis Chamber, and the Codex itself. This Flashpoint timeline might be a nightmare for everyone else, but it's a treasure trove for me.'
Kara, Elizabeth, and Barry all witnessed Ethan's expression transform from normal to something far more unsettling. They exchanged worried glances and then turned to Anna and Jean with visible concern.
Barry remembered Ethan's terrifying displays of power during previous battles—against Darkseid, against Ocean Master, against beings that should have been unstoppable. If Ethan was planning some new way to torture him or was pleased about something terrible, Barry wanted desperately to ask Jean and Anna for help. He would be completely helpless against someone who could bend time itself.
Jean let out a resigned sigh and spoke reassuringly to the worried observers, "Don't panic. Ethan is simply happy. He's probably thinking about something he likes very much."
Anna nodded with a knowing smile and closed her eyes contentedly. "Umu. He must be thinking of having fun in our—"
Jean cut her off sharply. "Please don't complete that sentence."
Anna raised a teasing eyebrow and looked at Jean with amusement. "What? Are you saying you haven't been thinking about it? Because that expression he's making is very exotic."
Kara and Barry looked at Ethan's predatory smirk and then back at Anna as if silently asking 'Are you okay? Is this normal?'
Jean sighed with long-suffering patience. "She just loves him so much that she even finds his weird villain expressions charming."
Before Anna could protest that characterization, Jean raised her voice slightly, "Ethan! Stop smiling like a third-rate villain and prepare seating for you and Elizabeth. You're going to watch this unfold."
Ethan snapped back to awareness and turned to look at them with surprise. "Wait, are you two—"
Anna nodded with an enthusiastic smile. "Yes! We're planning to join the war too. Jean and I will help stop this stupid, pointless conflict." Her expression became more competitive and fierce. "But don't worry—we won't help Barry regain his speed. That's his problem to solve. But also..."
She slammed her right fist into her left palm with a resounding bang that echoed through the air. "I've been itching to fight Diana from this timeline. I plan to defeat her in single combat."
Jean sighed and turned to address Elizabeth, Kara, and Barry directly, "Anna and Diana fight constantly. They're extremely competitive with each other—it's like having two alpha predators in the same territory."
Ethan's expression softened as he looked at his wives. "I didn't want us to interfere more than necessary because it defeats the entire purpose of showing Barry the consequences of the Flashpoint. But..." He smiled warmly. "This is our honeymoon. Your wishes are my command, my two beautiful moons illuminating the sky of my heart."
Anna and Jean both rolled their eyes at the flowery language but couldn't suppress their pleased smiles. They felt genuinely appreciated hearing such praise.
Barry visibly relaxed. Knowing that Anna and Jean would be helping their side meant significantly more force in their team. Their power levels were extraordinary—he suspects afterall the Wives of Ethan Carter can't be ordinary Woman, right?
Elizabeth also smiled as she watched the interaction between Ethan, Anna, and Jean. Something stirred in her chest—an emotion she couldn't quite identify or explain. Warmth? Longing? Or something else? She can't say for sure.
Victor returned from his communication attempts and his mechanical face somehow conveyed sadness despite its limited expressiveness. "The resistance team will meet us at New Themyscira—which is what they're calling Washington D.C. after it was captured by the Amazons. I also confirmed information about General Lane's plan."
His synthesized voice grew more somber. "Before Lex Luthor was killed, he provided readings on the Atlantic underwater base. Lane attempted a bombing run to destroy it. The mission failed catastrophically. The pilot—a man named Hal Jordan—died when his ship was shot down over the ocean. Based on my personal network analysis, the bombing run caused minimal damage to Atlantis despite the sacrifice."
Barry's eyes widened in shock and pain. Hal Jordan—his friend, his teammate, a man who should have been one of Earth's greatest heroes—had died pointlessly in a failed bombing run in this twisted timeline. His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles went white.
Kara showed no visible reaction, though her eyes flickered briefly with something that might have been sympathy. She'd never known Hal Jordan personally.
Elizabeth's face fell with genuine sadness. She'd seen Hal Jordan's heroic life in the original timeline through Ethan's mental transmission. Learning that he'd sacrificed himself without even accomplishing his mission felt profoundly tragic.
Jean and Anna both disliked the news, but their expressions hardened with determination rather than despair. They had the power to end this meaningless war. And they planned to do exactly that—soon.
Ethan showed minimal reaction and simply nodded once. He'd already known about Hal's death. His Chronokinesis had shown him the likely outcomes of this timeline, and Hal dying in the Atlantic bombing run had been one of the most probable events.
Batman emerged from his armory fully prepared for combat. He carried several heavy bags of equipment and a specialized suitcase. His gravelly voice cut through the moment of grief, "We should move now. Time is limited. We need to regroup with the others and form a coordinated plan—distract Thawne while ensuring that King Arthur and Queen Diana don't interfere with Barry's attempt to fix the timeline."
Most of them nodded in agreement. Jean raised her hand and a red portal materialized, showing New Themyscira on the other side. One by one, the group began stepping through.
Ethan was the last to approach the portal and sighed quietly to himself. 'I told them we shouldn't fight, yet my beautiful wives are making it harder for me to properly educate Barry about consequences. But...' His expression softened with affection. 'What can I do? Even with all the power I possess, I can't say no to my wives' wishes when they want to have fun together.'
He stepped toward the portal and his thoughts turned calculating. 'Besides, I'll soon have access to Kryptonian technology. The ships, the phantom drive, the Genesis Chamber, the Codex—all of it. And if my plan works correctly...'
A small smile crossed his face. 'Barry won't need to create another Flashpoint because of his mother's death. I'll have found a better solution. One that preserves the timeline's integrity while also giving people what they want.'
The portal closed behind him with a soft whisper of displaced air.
...
[New Themyscira]
A few moments later, the waters off the coast of what had once been Washington D.C. began to churn violently.
Several massive warships of Atlantis rose from the ocean depths, water cascading off their sleek, bio-mechanical hulls. The ships were living vessels—grown rather than built, combining organic Atlantean biology with advanced technology. Their surfaces gleamed with mother-of-pearl iridescence even under the dark storm clouds.
The fleet oriented toward the land and began advancing at frightening speed. Weapons systems activated along their hulls—massive water cannons that could punch through concrete, harpoon launchers the size of telephone poles, and energy projectors that glowed with concentrated tidal force.
The warships opened fire.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Explosions erupted across New Themyscira as Atlantean ordnance hammered into buildings that had once been monuments to democracy. The Washington Monument cracked and began to topple. The Capitol building's dome shattered under concentrated fire. Streets buckled and buildings collapsed in cascading waves of destruction.
Amazon archers positioned on rooftops and fortified positions attempted to return fire with their enchanted bows.
Arrows flew in graceful arcs, each one capable of piercing tank armor—but they were largely ineffective against the Atlantean warships' shielding and biological armor.
The arrows either bounced off harmlessly or were intercepted by defensive water shields that caught the projectiles mid-flight.
Then the ground itself began to shake with seismic force.
Cracks spread through the streets like lightning patterns. Chunks of concrete lifted and fell. And then, with an earth-shattering roar, something massive burst up from beneath the city.
A Minotaur—but not the mythological creature of legend. This was something far larger and more terrible. Easily fifteen meters tall at the shoulder, its body was corded with muscle that looked carved from living stone. Its horns were the size of tree trunks and glowed with enchanted energy. Its eyes burned with intelligence and rage.
The Minotaur emerged directly beneath one of the Atlantean warships. The vessel had no time to maneuver—the creature's massive hands grabbed the ship's hull and lifted. Metal and bio-organic material screamed in protest as the Minotaur flipped the entire warship over backward.
The vessel crashed down onto another ship behind it with catastrophic force. Both ships exploded in simultaneous detonations that sent debris raining across the battlefield and created a mushroom cloud of fire and steam that rose hundreds of meters into the air.
The Minotaur roared triumphantly and positioned itself in front of the Amazon defensive lines, ready to tank incoming fire.
Then Queen Diana appeared on the battlefield—a vision of terrible beauty and fury. Her armor was polished and neat for this battle, her face twisted with hatred, her eyes burning with the madness that came from years of endless war.
She moved with impossible speed and strength, grabbing the wreckage of the destroyed Atlantean warships—pieces that weighed tens of tons—and hurling them toward the incoming fleet like a child throwing stones.
The improvised projectiles crashed into three more warships with devastating accuracy. Metal tore, biological components ruptured, and the vessels exploded or began sinking back into the ocean.
Diana drew her sword—a blade forged by Hephaestus himself, capable of cutting through nearly anything—and pointed it directly at the Atlantean fleet.
Her voice carried across the entire battlefield with supernatural volume, "DEATH TO THE WATER DWELLERS!"
The Amazons roared in response—a war cry that echoed with magical amplification. The Minotaur bellowed its own challenge. Together, they surged forward to engage the landing Atlantean forces.
The warships began disgorging soldiers—Atlantean warriors in their distinctive armor, armed with tridents and energy weapons, enhanced by their underwater adaptations to possess strength far beyond normal humans.
Three figures emerged from the largest warship, immediately distinguishable from the regular soldiers.
Aqualad (Kaldur'ahm), Arthur's most trusted lieutenant, wielding his water-bearers with deadly precision, his tattoos glowing with mystical power.
Ocean Master (Orm), Arthur's half-brother, dressed in advanced Atlantean battle armor, his face hidden behind a helmet and his trident crackling with magical energy.
Black Manta, The human who had enhanced himself with Atlantean technology, his distinctive helmet gleaming, his optic beams ready to cut through anything in his path.
They charged forward to engage the Amazon forces.
The battlefield erupted into absolute chaos.
Aqualad's water-bearers formed into solid blades that clashed against Amazon swords with the sound of ringing steel. He moved like water itself—flowing around attacks, reforming to strike from unexpected angles, his magic allowing him to draw moisture from the very air to use as weapons.
Ocean Master fought with the savage efficiency of someone who'd spent his entire life being compared unfavorably to his brother. His trident blazed with power as he parried arrows, impaled Amazon warriors, and sent waves of concussive force that knocked entire groups off their feet.
Black Manta's helmet optic beams swept across the battlefield in deadly arcs. Wherever they touched, flesh burned and stone melted. He moved with mechanical precision, his enhanced armor allowing him to trade blows with Amazons who possessed supernatural strength.
The Amazons fought back with equal ferocity. They were warriors trained from childhood, blessed by the gods, equipped with enchanted weapons and armor. Every arrow found its mark. Every sword stroke aimed to kill. They gave no quarter and expected none.
The Minotaur waded through Atlantean soldiers like a living battering ram, each sweep of its massive arms sending bodies flying through the air. Atlantean weapons struck its hide and barely penetrated—the creature had skin like reinforced concrete.
Then King Arthur himself entered the battle.
He emerged from the ocean depths surrounded by a corona of power—water itself obeying his command, swirling around him in protective currents. His golden armor gleamed even in the dim light. His trident—not the symbol of office he'd inherited, but a weapon he'd claimed through conquest—thrummed with barely contained destructive energy.
Arthur pointed his trident at the Amazon forces and roared, "FOR ATLANTIS! FOR OUR FALLEN! PUSH THEM BACK INTO THE CAVE THEY CRAWLED FROM!"
The Atlantean forces surged forward with renewed vigor, inspired by their king's presence.
The battle intensified to apocalyptic levels. Every second, someone died. Buildings collapsed. Fire spread. Blood—both red and blue—stained the streets of what had once been the capital of democracy.
Then something changed. The sky above the battlefield suddenly grew brighter, as if the storm clouds themselves had caught fire.
A massive ball of flame descended from above, growing larger as it approached. It wasn't a natural fireball—it moved with purpose and intelligence.
The fireball struck the center of the battlefield between the Atlantean and Amazon forces. The impact created an explosion of supernatural flame that consumed both sides indiscriminately. Warriors from both armies were thrown backward by the concussive force.
From the flames emerged a figure of pure nightmare.
Etrigan the Demon - bound in chains he could break at any moment, his yellow eyes blazing with hellfire, his fangs bared in a savage grin. He spoke in his characteristic rhyming speech.
"From Hell's dark pit I now ascend,
To bring this pointless war to end!
Amazon and Atlantean both shall see,
The demon's wrath from boundary free!"
But Etrigan wasn't alone.
Behind him came dozens—no, hundreds—of figures. The resistance. Every hero, anti-hero, and desperate survivor who had decided that this war needed to stop before it consumed the entire world.
Deadshot led a group of enhanced soldiers, his targeting systems already acquiring multiple enemy positions.
And at the front of this force, wearing a press vest and carrying a camera despite the danger, was Lois Lane—the journalist who had decided to document this war and expose its madness to whoever survived to read her article.
Her voice somehow carried across the entire battlefield, "THIS WAR ENDS TODAY!"
Queen Diana turned to look at the newcomers and her lips pulled back from her teeth in a snarl. King Arthur's eyes narrowed with cold calculation.
Both of them had the same thought simultaneously, 'More obstacles. More fools who don't understand that peace died long ago. They'll all fall beneath our forces just like everyone else who tried to stop this war.'
Neither Diana nor Arthur showed any intention of backing down. They would crush anyone who came their way—resistance, heroes, demons from Hell itself. It didn't matter.
The three-way battle for New Themyscira—and perhaps for the fate of the entire world—had officially begun.