"Look who finally decided to wake up."
Barry Allen blinked, the world coming back into focus one piece at a time. The hum of the precinct, the muted chatter, the faint smell of coffee—
Joe West stood beside him, holding out a cup with a familiar, easy smile.
"I figured I'd let you sleep," Joe said. "But the guy who killed Elongated Man isn't going to catch himself."
Barry froze.
That line.
That exact line.
His head snapped toward the television.
Right on cue, the program flickered, cutting to a breaking news segment. The anchor spoke quickly, urgency in her voice.
"We're interrupting scheduled programming. Live footage is coming in from outside the Cryo Museum, where a confrontation—"
Barry didn't need to hear the rest.
On screen, Captain Cold—reformed, somehow—was fighting off criminals.
Barry pressed a hand to his forehead.
No speed. No energy. No connection.
Just… normal.
A powerless body.
He exhaled slowly, something tangled between frustration and relief.
He hadn't stopped himself.
The timeline had already been corrected.
His mother was alive.
The world… hadn't collapsed.
But it wasn't right, either.
"Barry?" Joe's voice softened. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost. If you need time, I can take point on this case."
Barry shook his head, though his expression remained tense.
"Sorry, Joe. I've got something I need to handle."
He couldn't stay here.
Not when the world was still balancing on a knife's edge.
He needed his speed back.
And if everything followed the pattern he remembered—
Then his next step was Gotham.
Find Batman.
Except not that Batman.
Thomas Wayne.
The thought had barely settled when a voice cut in behind him.
"Are you done standing around, or are you planning to keep wasting time?"
Barry turned.
A man sat casually on a desk, arms crossed, watching him with faint amusement.
Black hair. Calm expression.
Completely out of place.
Barry's eyes widened.
"You—"
Recognition hit like a lightning strike.
"You're the one from the time stream."
Noah Vale smiled.
"Glad I made an impression."
Joe frowned, looking between them.
"Barry… you know this guy? What are you talking about?"
Barry hesitated, then shook his head.
"Joe, I need a minute. This is… complicated."
Joe studied him for a second, then nodded slowly.
"Alright. Don't take too long."
Barry gestured toward the exit.
"Let's talk outside."
Noah slid off the desk, landing lightly.
"Lead the way."
They stepped out into the street.
The city felt… normal.
Too normal.
Barry's thoughts churned as he walked, piecing things together.
This wasn't the timeline he had created.
It was closer to the original.
Which meant—
Something had interrupted the process.
He already knew what.
Or rather, who.
Ahead of him, a familiar figure appeared.
His mother.
"Barry?"
Her voice was warm, real, alive.
Even knowing what he knew, the sight hit him hard.
"Mom…"
The word slipped out before he could stop it.
She smiled.
"Of course it's me. And don't forget—we've got dinner tonight. My birthday, remember?"
Then she noticed Noah, her expression brightening.
"A friend of yours? He's handsome. Bold haircut, too."
Barry opened his mouth—
Closed it.
"…Yeah," he said finally. "He's a friend."
There wasn't a version of this conversation where the truth made sense.
"Give me a minute, okay? I'll catch up with you."
She nodded easily and continued on her way.
Barry watched her go, then turned sharply into a nearby alley.
Noah followed without comment.
Barry faced him, all hesitation gone.
"Start talking," he said. "Who are you, and how were you inside the time stream?"
Noah didn't bother dodging the question.
"I'm from another universe," he said simply. "Call me a god, if you want the short version."
Barry didn't laugh.
"You interfered."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Noah shrugged.
"Because your little time experiment was starting to affect my world."
Barry's expression darkened.
"I was fixing something that was wrong."
"And in the process, you nearly rewrote things that had nothing to do with you," Noah replied evenly.
Barry clenched his fists.
"If I don't fix the timeline, this world falls apart. War breaks out. Millions die."
"I'm aware," Noah said.
Barry blinked.
"…You are?"
Noah leaned back slightly, tapping a finger against his arm.
"Different Batman. No Superman in the spotlight. Atlantis and the Amazons gearing up for a global war. It's not exactly subtle."
Barry stared at him.
"Then you know I have to stop it."
Noah met his gaze, unbothered.
"No. You want to stop it."
"That's not—"
"And I'm not letting you mess with time again," Noah cut in. "Not while it risks bleeding into places it shouldn't."
Barry's voice rose.
"You're condemning this world!"
Noah tilted his head.
"Or," he said calmly, "I fix it."
Silence.
Barry frowned.
"…You?"
"Yeah."
Noah's tone was almost casual.
"You're trying to solve this by rewriting history. I'll just deal with the problem directly."
Barry hesitated.
Images flashed through his mind—Atlantis, Themyscira, armies clashing, the planet inching toward destruction.
"You think you can stop all of that?" he asked.
Noah followed his gaze, looking out toward the distant ocean.
"Couple of warlords with too much power?" he said lightly. "Doesn't take long."
To him, it really didn't.
Barry studied him, searching for doubt.
He didn't find any.
And that was… unsettling.
"…If you're wrong," Barry said slowly, "people die."
"If I'm right," Noah replied, "they don't."
A beat.
"Simple math."
Barry exhaled.
"Then we need to move. Every second matters."
Noah didn't budge.
"Relax."
Barry stared at him.
"Relax?"
Noah nodded toward the street behind them.
"Your mom's birthday, right?"
Barry blinked.
"…What?"
Noah's expression didn't change.
"You can go save the world after dinner."
Barry just looked at him.
Caught between disbelief, frustration—
And something quieter.
Something human.