Journey of the Last Saiyan

Gotham City-Wayne Manor

Deep within the study, Thomas Wayne sat before a computer screen, his face illuminated by the broadcast's glow. His fingers tightened around his whiskey glass as he analyzed Orach's demonstration of power against the Atlanteans. Each replay of the footage only reinforced his grim conclusion.

His gaze drifted to the family portrait on his desk—a snapshot of happier days. Bruce's innocent smile, Martha's radiant beauty, his own proud stance. They looked so perfect, so untouchable. The image blurred slightly as he reached for it with trembling fingers but stopped midway.

Looking up at the vast array of weapons and gear lining his study walls—tools of his violent crusade—Thomas felt a bitter smile cross his face as he contemplated their existence in this altered timeline. "Martha... maybe you were right all along." His eyes fixed on the Joker card at the center of his investigation board, surrounded by blood-stained playing cards, remembering the words Martha Wayne had screamed in the days after they lost their son. "Maybe it really would have been better if we had died and our son had lived. At least then, our legacy wouldn't be this trail of vengeance and madness."

As Thomas adjusted his cowl, preparing to begin his nightly patrol, a spatial ripple materialized behind him. His muscles tensed instinctively, years of combat experience taking over.

Orach emerged from the ripple, his presence dominating the vast cave. Though Thomas had witnessed this being's devastating power against the Atlanteans, he remained unwavering.

"Dr. Wayne," Orach called out calmly. "Or perhaps Batman is more fitting in this timeline?"

"Skip the pleasantries," Thomas replied in a low, steely growl. "A being of your power doesn't make social calls to the likes of us. Why are you here?"

Orach surveyed the Batcave, noting its stark contrast to Bruce's technologically advanced sanctuary. This cave was purely militaristic—its weapons more lethal, its atmosphere heavy with darkness. His gaze pierced Thomas Wayne to his core, understanding the man's torment intimately. Having experienced profound loss himself, Orach recognized the familiar traces of rage, grief, and self-loathing. Although he had come initially out of respect for Bruce, Orach was now glad he had made this visit—before him stood Thomas for what he truly was: a broken man awaiting final judgment.

Without warning, Orach vanished and reappeared before Thomas, placing his hand gently on the older man's forehead. "Let me show you something, Dr. Wayne," he said softly.

In the next moment through Orach's memories, Thomas saw glimpses of the original timeline. He watched Bruce as Batman meeting Orach for the first time after his arrival on Earth. Their initial wariness grew into a partnership as they shared knowledge and trained together. Bruce and Orach went on to create an innovative R&D division that improved Batman's capabilities while advancing medical industry and helping Gotham prosper.

He watched Bruce mentor his adopted son Dick, passing on not just combat skills but wisdom and compassion. The memories concluded with glimpses of Bruce finding personal happiness—enjoying a double date with Barbara Minerva alongside Orach and Diana, sharing tender moments with Barbara, and spending quiet evenings in the manor with Alfred.

When Orach withdrew his hand, Thomas stumbled back, overwhelmed. His legs gave way and he collapsed into a nearby chair, tears streaming down his face as he removed his cowl. His son had not just survived their deaths, he had thrived, becoming everything a father could hope for and then some more, a protector, a mentor, a force for good.

"A parent's greatest fear," Thomas whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "isn't just leaving their child too young. It's wondering who will care for them, guide them through life's challenges, and help them navigate this cruel world." He looked up at Orach, eyes glistening. "But Bruce... though I wish he hadn't needed to take on the mantle of the Batman, I'm grateful he found his path. He found people he could call… family."

Orach nodded and added, "Alfred raised him well. Your son never forgot the values that you and Mrs. Wayne instilled in him during those precious early years. He channeled his pain into purpose, transforming his grief into a force for good."

Thomas wiped his eyes, straightening in his chair. "Thank you," he said with quiet dignity. "For showing me this. For letting me see the man my son was meant to become."

Orach nodded solemnly. "Will be again. Bruce Wayne was one of the first humans to earn my respect. He offered me shelter when I was new in this world, became my partner in advancing human technology, and grew close to be called a possible friend. When I discovered this altered timeline, I felt I owed it to his memory to seek you out - to show you that in the proper flow of time, your son became a man that any father would be proud of."

Thomas stood up, his decision made. If his death was the price for his son's destiny, he would pay it gladly. "What happens now? How can I help?"

Orach gazed at the man before him. "The timeline must be restored to its original course. You and Mrs. Wayne... your deaths that night were the catalyst that shaped Bruce's journey. This cannot be changed. But before we proceed, there is someone else who deserves to know the truth about her son's legacy."

Thomas's expression darkened with concern. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Martha... she hasn't been herself since Bruce's death. The grief broke something inside her. She became..." He struggled to find the words.

"Your wife, beneath whatever mask she wears now," Orach said gently, opening a spatial ripple. "She's still Bruce's mother, still the woman you loved. Let me help her find peace with what must be done."

They stepped through into the Monarch Theater's shadowy interior. The once-grand venue had been transformed into a twisted funhouse, reflecting its new occupant's fractured psyche. Carnival music played discordantly in the background.

"Tommy dearest! Did you like my present?" Martha's voice rang out, pitched between playful and menacing. She emerged from the shadows, her face painted with the Joker's grotesque smile. Her eyes held a flicker of her old self when they fell on Thomas, but sharpened upon noticing the guest. "And who's this overdressed guest you've brought to our little show?"

"Martha," Thomas said softly, removing his cowl. His voice carried years of shared pain and love. "This man knew our son - in a world where Bruce lived."

The change was instant. Martha's theatrical demeanor shattered. "Don't!" she snarled, producing a knife with practiced ease. "Don't you dare speak of him! Our boy is dead! Dead like everything good in this world!"

Orach stepped forward, his movements careful and deliberate. "Mrs. Wayne, I can show you glimpses of the original timeline—the same truth I showed your husband. In that reality, Bruce survived that night and grew into a man who honored your memory, protecting others from experiencing the loss he endured. Let me share these memories of him with you."

The knife trembled in Martha's grip. Behind the madness and makeup, a mother's desperate hope flickered to life. "You...you're not lying… you've seen my Bruce? My baby?"

"He became everything we dreamed he could be, Martha," Thomas said, moving closer. "Everything and more."

Tears cut trails through Martha's makeup as her facade crumbled. Though she distrusted the world, her fractured mind still held one anchor of faith—her former husband. The knife clattered to the floor. "Show me," she whispered, her voice stripped of its manic edge, revealing the grieving mother beneath. "Please... show me my son."

Orach stepped forward, vanishing and reappearing before the startled Martha. Before she could react, he gently placed his hand on her head. His life Ki pulsed gently, reaching out to her trembling form and beginning to heal her fractured mind while his memories of Bruce flowed into her consciousness—memories of a life that should have been.

The first vision showed Bruce as Batman, confronting Orach on the day of his arrival on Earth. Martha's eyes widened in horror as she watched her son, clad in cape and cowl. "No..." she breathed, anguish cracking her voice. "My baby boy... we never wanted this darkness for him."

Thomas moved to his wife's side, taking her hand in his. "Keep watching, Martha. See the man he became."

The memories continued - Bruce leading Wayne Enterprises with wisdom and compassion, working alongside Orach to protect and improve both Gotham and the world, mentoring his adopted son Dick with paternal warmth and strictness. They watched as he transformed Gotham into a safer city. The final scene showed Bruce's genuine smile as he enjoyed a nice evening with Barbara, while Orach and Diana shared their company on their double date.

"His smile..." Martha whispered, the last traces of her Joker persona melting away. "Just like when he was small...I can tell he likes her…Thomas…he found love, helped so many..." Her gaze drifted to Thomas in his vigilante gear. "But the weight he must have carried, the loneliness that drove him to become..."

"He transformed his pain of loosing you two into purpose," Orach explained softly. "Every life he saved honored your memory. Every child he protected from experiencing his loss became your living legacy."

Martha's legs buckled, and Thomas caught her as she sank to her knees. Through the streaked makeup, her tears carved paths of humanity across her face. "My beautiful, brave boy..." she sobbed. "We should have been there... protected him from having to face such darkness..."

"You were there in the ways that mattered most," Orach assured her, kneeling beside the grieving mother. "The compassion, the unwavering moral compass, the desire to help others - these weren't born from tragedy. They were seeds you and your husband planted in those precious eight years. Without that foundation..." He paused meaningfully, his gaze meeting Martha's as he lifted his hand.

In that moment, Martha saw something in Orach's eyes - one eye seemed to swirl with an impossible mixture of light and absolute darkness. The void within made her soul shiver, showing her the terrifying depths of what grief and loss could create. With a shudder and a small cry, she turned away, burying her face in Thomas's chest as she clung to him, understanding at last the full weight of their choices and their son's legacy.

After a while Martha lifted her face from Thomas's chest, her tears having washed away much of her grotesque makeup, her scars vanished under the influence of Orach's life Ki. Her voice was steady now, carrying the dignified strength that had once defined Martha Wayne.

"If restoring the timeline means our boy lives - truly lives, becomes the man we see in your memories..." She looked up at Thomas, their eyes meeting with shared understanding.

Thomas nodded slowly, having already made his decision. "The causality is clear. Our deaths that night weren't just tragedy like you said, they were a catalyst. For Bruce to become the man he is supposed to become…"

"We have to let it happen," Martha finished, her fingers intertwining with her husband's. "It's what parents do, isn't it? Sacrifice everything for their child."

Thomas nodded as he turned to Orach, his expression resolute. "What do you need from us?"

"Just your acceptance," Orach replied gently. "Your understanding that this is how things must be - not just for Bruce, but also, for countless others whose lives he touched."

Martha stood straighter and said, "Then let's give our son his life back—the life he was meant to have."

Thomas squeezed her hand, a ghost of a smile crossing his face. "Together, my love. One last time, for Bruce."

"My love I..." Martha began softly, but Thomas gently interrupted with a knowing smile. "I know," he said, squeezing her hand.

After a moment of respectful silence, Orach spoke. "I must admit, I'm surprised neither of you has asked about resurrection. From the memories I shared, you've seen what I'm capable of."

Martha and Thomas exchanged a meaningful look before Martha spoke, her voice calm. "You could resurrect us, perhaps, but we understand why you won't. The darkness I glimpsed within you isn't merely something you carry—it's fundamental to who you are. We've walked in shadows ourselves and know pain, but you embody something far deeper. Though I can't fathom how many you've lost, the darkness within you shows you haven't resurrected them, and that speaks volumes. Besides," she added with a gentle smile, "such power always demands a price. We'd rather know you'll be there for Bruce, guiding him."

Beneath his cape, Orach's fists clenched imperceptibly as he studied this remarkable couple before him. After a moment, he said, "You should understand something," his voice carrying the weight of his resolve. "While your son has earned my respect, our principles differ in some crucial ways. If circumstances ever force us into conflict..." He met their eyes with an unflinching gaze, his next words resonating with absolute finality. "The only mercy I could grant him would be a swift death."

At these words, Thomas clenched his fists and gritted his teeth while Martha's expression turned solemn. They understood that they stood before a being of unfathomable power, one against whom they had no recourse. Yet after a moment's reflection, they nodded in acceptance, taking solace in knowing this being had not only befriended their son but had shown them genuine respect—a courtesy he need not have extended, given his immense power and status. They could only hope their son would never find himself at odds with such a being.

"Then we have one final request," Thomas said, his voice steady despite the weight of what he was about to propose. "The one who altered history, who changed everything and robbed our son of his destiny—if we must return to that night… let us help you make them understand the consequences of their actions."

Martha's eyes flashed with a mother's righteous fury. "Yes. Whatever their reasons, they must face the truth of what their selfish choice cost—not just Bruce, but countless souls who needed him."

Orach studied them for a moment before nodding. "Very well. You'll both have your part to play in teaching Barry Allen why laws of time are not to be abused. Your presence will make the lesson... particularly memorable."

Central City - Allen House - 2 hours before the meeting

The doorbell's chime pierced the quiet afternoon air. Henry Allen, who had been reading an article while his wife Nora was tidying up the house, made his way to answer it. As he opened the door, he found himself facing a striking couple that seemed to radiate poise and elegance.

The tall man cut an imposing figure in his impeccably tailored charcoal suit. The woman beside him wore an elegant burgundy dress with a matching wide-brimmed hat that cast subtle shadows across her face, her poised demeanor suggesting both grace and high society.

"Good afternoon," the man said. "Would this be the residence of Mr. Barry Allen?"

"Yes, that's right. He's my son," Henry replied, a slight furrow appearing in his brow. "May I ask what this is about?"

The man cleared his throat politely, his demeanor softening slightly. "Its pleasure to meet you Mr. Allen. My name is Thomas and this is my wife, Martha. If you wouldn't mind, we'd like to discuss a rather important matter with him. Perhaps we could wait inside?"

Henry hesitated for a moment, but something about the couple's dignified presence and earnest demeanor put him at ease. "Of course, please come in. My son isn't home yet, but we can wait together. Would you care for some tea?"

"That would be lovely, thank you," Martha replied warmly, as they followed Henry inside.

In the living room, Nora Allen gracefully rose to welcome their unexpected guests. After formal introductions were exchanged, the atmosphere softened into an unexpectedly pleasant gathering as they waited for Barry to return. Thomas Wayne, his history as a physician, engaged Henry in an animated discussion about medical practices and recent advances in the field.

Meanwhile, Martha Wayne drew upon her experience as a socialite in the past to establish an easy rapport with Nora. Their conversation flowed naturally from domestic matters to weightier subjects—the troubling war in Europe and, most notably, the recent summit in Gotham where the enigmatic alien, Emperor Orach had summoned champions and world leaders. Both women exchanged worried glances as they discussed these uncertain times.

"I must say," Henry ventured after their third cup of tea, "you both seem so familiar somehow. Have we met at a medical conference perhaps?"

Before either Wayne could respond, the front door opened, and Barry's voice called out, "Mom? Dad? I'm home!"

As Barry walked into the living room he froze mid-step at the sight of their visitors. He recognized their faces from the Wayne Manor portraits, newspaper archives, and historical records back in the original timeline.

"Barry," Henry said warmly, "These are our guests, Mr. and Mrs.—"

"Wayne," Thomas finished, fixing Barry with a steady gaze. "Thomas and Martha Wayne."

The blood drained from Barry's face as he stared at the couple sitting in his parents' living room, sharing tea and pleasant conversation—two people who should have died decades ago in that dark alley in Gotham City. When he'd decided to change the past, he'd sworn to cut ties with his former life, abandoning his role as the Flash and avoiding contact with other heroes. Though he knew changing the past would create ripple effects, he never could have predicted this. A deep sense of foreboding washed over him.

A heavy silence filled the room until Martha Wayne delicately set down her teacup, her elegant poise masking the calculated nature of her next words. "You have a lovely home and wholesome family," she said softly. "It's quite rare these days—with the world facing such turmoil, many have lost their loved ones in the recent war. Quite enviable, Mr. Allen." She met Barry's gaze and continued, "One can't help but be reminded of... simpler times. When our family was whole."

Thomas's jaw clenched subtly as he placed a steadying hand on his wife's shoulder before addressing Barry. "We had a son roughly about your age, Mr. Allen," he said, his voice carrying a weight that seemed to fill the room. "He would have been, at least."

Barry stood frozen in shock at these words, his eyes widening as he grasped their implication.

"Would you... would you feel comfortable telling us about your son?" Nora asked gently, noticing the sorrow in their expressions.

Martha's fingers trembled slightly as she touched the pearl necklace around her neck. "A mugger," she whispered, her composure cracking just enough to be devastating. "In an alley. One moment our beautiful boy was laughing about the movie we'd just seen, and the next..."

Barry finally understood that in this timeline, Thomas and Martha Wayne had survived while Bruce had died. Remembering Bruce, a wave of guilt and remorse washed over him at the loss of his friend. He trembled and took a step back, his father's concerned "Son, are you alright?" sounding distant and muffled.

Barry could feel Thomas Wayne's gaze boring into him, knowing and judging. But he couldn't change anything now—he couldn't lose his parents.

"I... I need some air," Barry managed to choke out, stumbling toward the door. Behind him, Martha Wayne's voice was heard, soft but piercing: "It's strange, isn't it? How one moment, one choice, can change everything?"

The words stopped Barry in his tracks. "Barry?" Nora's gentle voice filled with concern as she noticed her son's state. "You've gone pale. Are you feeling alright?"

Henry's intuition kicked in as he observed his son's reaction and the guests' demeanor. Something wasn't quite right. He cleared his throat, his expression growing serious. "Thomas, Martha—forgive my directness, but I can't shake the feeling there's something more to your visit..."

Just then without warning, the temperature in the room plummeted. A chill ran down everyone's spine as the space behind Henry began to ripple and distort. Through this spatial distortion stepped Orach, his presence instantly commanding the room. Barry trembled, feeling the same dread he had experienced in the Gobi desert. Orach's eyes found Barry, who had instinctively tapped into the Speed Force and entered Flashtime.

Barry's mind raced. Though he had expected Orach to confront him after the announcement, he hadn't anticipated it happening here and now—before the scheduled meeting in Gotham with world leaders and other heroes. He had assumed Orach would deal with Diana and Arthur first, giving him time to move his parents to safety on another Earth. But watching Orach materialize behind his unsuspecting father destroyed those plans.

Acting on pure instinct, Barry launched himself forward, lightning crackling around him as he attempted to reach his father. But Orach's movement defied even Barry's enhanced perception - one moment he stood still behind Henry Allen, the next his hand had closed around Barry's throat, stopping the speedster mid-stride. The sudden discharge of Speed Force energy sent arcs of lightning dancing across the room's decorations, causing Henry and Nora to jump back in shock.

"Hello, Barry," Orach said calmly but his tone carried a hint of killing intent. "It's been a while since we last met. I believe I was clear about the consequences of interfering with time again."

"BARRY!" Henry and Nora cried out in terror, watching their son struggle in the grip of this mysterious being that had recently created a buzz throughout the world.

"Please, I beg you! Let our son go!" Henry stepped forward, paternal instinct overwhelming his fear. "Whatever this is about, we can discuss it rationally..."

"This is about consequences, Henry," Thomas Wayne's voice was heard. "Your son played God with time itself, and now he must face judgment."

Martha Wayne rose up, her eyes turned cold. "Dr. Allen, surely you've heard Orach's announcement about this being an altered timeline?"

"I have, but what are you suggesting?" Henry's voice wavered.

"Your son, Barry Allen, is the one who changed everything," Martha declared.

"That's impossible," Henry protested. "Barry's just a forensic scientist!"

"Please," Nora pleaded, her eyes fixed on Orach. "There must be some mistake. Please let our son go."

Orach's gaze never left Barry as he spoke. "Mrs. Allen, do you remember the night of the home invasion? When you were mysteriously saved?"

"Yes, but..." Nora's voice trailed off, confusion etched on her face.

"Or...ach... please... don't," Barry choked out, struggling against the grip that negated his connection to the Speed Force—as if the cosmic energy itself dared not act against Orach.

"But your death haunted him," Orach's eyes grew cold. "When he first discovered time travel, he tried to change the past. Though he created a tear in reality, he ultimately chose to return without changing anything—not understanding that even this simple action had consequences. His decisions that day created a paradox that could have destroyed not just this city, but the entire world, had I not contained it myself. That incident led to my banishment—I fell into an ambush and became trapped in another realm. During my absence, Barry suffered another devastating loss when a speedster killed Dr. Allen right in the spot where you were killed. Consumed by grief and desperation, Barry finally broke the cardinal rule of time travel. He saved you, Mrs. Allen, and in doing so, created this altered timeline."

Martha's voice turned grave. "He created ripples that changed not just your lives, but everyone's. We lost our precious boy in that alley, Henry, Nora. It should have been us who died, not Bruce. The timeline demanded balance—a life for a life. Your son's meddling didn't just save you; it shattered countless destinies, including our son's."

"Barry?" Nora's voice trembled as she looked at her son. "What are they saying?"

Tears streamed down Barry's face. "I just... I couldn't bear to lose anyone else, Mom. That night when you were murdered—it shattered my world. And when Dad died, it broke me completely. I…"

Nora collapsed into her chair, one hand covering her mouth. "I... I was supposed to die? All these lives... changed because I survived?"

Henry stood frozen, the weight of these revelations crushing down upon him.

Orach's gaze remained fixed on Barry as he spoke. "Just as Bruce's trauma and experiences transformed him into Batman, a symbol of hope, your parents' deaths shaped you into the man you became, Barry. These defining moments aren't meant to be altered. While I understand the grief that drove you, some points in time must remain fixed—no matter how painful they are."

"There's something else you should know," Orach continued, his voice darkening. "Haven't you wondered why you still retain your powers and memories, or how you merged with this timeline's Barry Allen? The answer is simple—in your universe, I arrived bearing the primordial sigils. Even in my absence, Diana's terminals still hold these sigils, and their higher realm powers are rejecting this altered reality. This is causing both timelines to exist simultaneously. The new timeline cannot fully break away from the original, making stabilization impossible. Hence you merger with your counter part of this reality. But, whether Diana and Arthur's war destroys it or the higher realm powers tear it apart, your peaceful life was destined to collapse. The only remaining question is how many others must suffer before that happens. Tell me, Barry, even if you flee to another Earth in this lower realm, how long will you continue running from the guilt of destroying your world—and possibly this entire universe?"

"No..." Still trapped in Orach's grasp, Barry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I just—I just wanted my family back."

"Barry," Orach's voice softened, though his grip remained unyielding. "Everyone faces the pain of loss. Bruce lost his parents, Diana her first love and countless Amazonian sisters, Arthur his mother. Even I have watched those dearest to me fade away. But we honor them by carrying their legacy forward, not by unraveling the fabric of existence."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "Unlike you, Barry, who relies on the Speed Force—an external energy—to interact with the primordial laws of time, I was born intimately connected to the laws of space and time themselves. They shaped me, guided me, and some say blessed me. Yet even with this deep connection and vast power at my disposal, I would never dare tamper with them as you have. These laws aren't mere rules, Barry—they're the fundamental pillars holding reality together. And death isn't just an end; it's a gateway for souls to continue their eternal journey through the cycle of reincarnation."

Orach's voice took on a grave tone. "By defying these laws, you've done more than create temporal paradoxes. You've challenged the very order that governs life and death themselves. The consequences of such actions reach far beyond mere timeline alterations. Trust me when I say this - you don't want to draw the attention of those who maintain the balance between life and death. Some powers in all realms are better left undisturbed."

"I never wanted any of this," Barry's voice trembled with a mixture of anguish and frustration. "These powers, this responsibility—it wasn't something I chose. I became the Flash because I wanted to help people, to make a difference. But every time I try to do what's right, the universe seems to punish me for it." His voice rose, carrying years of bottled pain and regret. "How is it fair that protecting the people I love always leads to more suffering? That every time I save someone, I lose something else in return?"

Tears burned in his eyes as he continued, his words barely above a whisper but heavy with emotion. "Just this once... just this one time, I chose my own happiness. I chose love over duty to make the hurting stop. I'm not someone like you—I don't understand these laws you speak of. I'm simply human. If I have these powers, why am I wrong to use them just once for something I desperately want?"

The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by Nora's quiet sobs as she watched her son's anguish. Henry stood rigid, his face frozen in helpless pain. After a long moment, Orach's voice cut through the stillness, "Barry, some choices have consequences that cannot be undone. Thank you for making this easier..." With a swift, precise movement, Orach snapped Barry's neck, ending his life.

"NOOOOO!" Henry and Nora cried out in unified horror as Barry collapsed from Orach's released grasp once they registered what had just happened. The Waynes remained silent witnesses as the distraught parents rushed forward, only to be frozen in place by an invisible force emanating from Orach. The sheer pressure of his aura brought them to their knees, though it was clear he was being merciful in its application.

With precision, Orach began weaving strands of golden energy around Barry's body. The air crackled with otherworldly power as he worked, blending his Life Ki and Heavenly lightning with ancient formation techniques. Layer by layer, he constructed an intricate seal around Barry's soul to prevent any further tampering with the timeline. The seal would preserve Barry's humanity and free will while ensuring he could never again abuse his connection to the Speed Force for temporal manipulation—and in extreme circumstances, grant Orach control over his actions if necessary.

Once the seal was completed, Orach channeled his Life Ki into Barry's lifeless form, initiating a complex healing process. Golden energy flowed through every cell, repairing the damage while carefully reattaching the soul to its vessel. With a commanding voice that seemed to echo through both the physical and spiritual realms, Orach spoke, "Arise."

Barry's eyes snapped open as he drew in a desperate, shuddering breath. His mind reeled from the experience, trying to process what had happened. "I... I died," he whispered, his voice trembling. During those brief moments in death's embrace, his soul had witnessed something profound - an endless void of absolute darkness, pierced only by bolts of otherworldly lightning that had seared through his very essence. The memory alone made him shiver uncontrollably.

"Welcome back," Orach said, his tone grave yet not without compassion. "I have placed safeguards upon you. Let your brief encounter with death serve as both warning and lesson. The primordial laws are not to be trifled with, Barry Allen. There will not be a next time."

Unable to meet Orach's gaze, Barry simply nodded. "Spend these final moments with your parents and say your proper goodbyes," Orach said, releasing his parents with a wave of his hand. "I will summon you when the meeting begins, and then we shall rectify the chaos you have created."

As Henry and Nora rushed to embrace their son, Orach opened a ripple in space and stepped through it with the Waynes, returning to Gotham.

"Mom... Dad, I'm so sorry," Barry sobbed as he clutched his parents in a tight embrace. His parents simply smiled and held him close.

Gotham City - Robinson Park - Minutes Before the Meeting

A mysterious dome of dense mist enveloped Robinson Park, drawing curious onlookers from across Gotham. The air thrummed with tension and anticipation for the momentous gathering about to take place.

Despite the gathering of formidable powers, reporters crowded the park's entrance, eager to document this historic meeting called by the enigmatic Emperor Orach. His earlier revelations had shaken the world to its core—the possibility that they were living in an altered timeline had everyone questioning their memories, relationships, and the very nature of their existence.

The Atlanteans arrived first, their Emperor Arthur at the helm, flanked by his elite warriors and advisors. The Amazons appeared moments later, Queen Diana leading her forces with Princess Donna and General Philippus at her side. The air crackled with barely contained hostility between the two factions. Though blood had been spilled freely in their ongoing war, both sides had temporarily laid down arms at Emperor Orach's command - such was the gravity of recent conspiracies and truths that had come to light.

Just then a portal opened in front of the people present and through it, stepped Lois Lane, accompanied by Cyborg and his team escorting the world's top UN leaders. Among Cyborg's group were several teenagers whose faces darkened at the sight of Queen Diana. These were the young heroes who, through divine magic, could combine to form Captain Thunder - the same warrior who had faced Diana's wrath in past skirmishes and now bore a permanent reminder of that defeat across his face.

Diana acknowledged Arthur with a curt nod before deliberately turning away from the others, her dismissal drawing quiet anger from the human contingent and their champions.

"So your traitor has eluded you as well, Diana?" Arthur remarked in a calm tone, returning her curt nod as his words cut through the tense silence.

Diana's eyes flashed dangerously. "You will address me as Queen Diana, Emperor Arthur. A momentary acknowledgment does not grant you such familiarity."

The Atlantean guards bristled at this disrespect, hands moving to weapons before Arthur silenced them with a gesture.

"Very well, Queen Diana," Arthur's voice carried a icy edge. "But the question stands. Even we failed to capture Orm. If I, Emperor of the Atlantean civilization that rivals yours in antiquity, can admit such failure, surely the mighty Queen of the Amazons could show similar humility? Or have your newfound powers convinced you that you're above such courtesies?"

Before Diana could unleash what promised to be a scathing retort, Princess Donna stepped forward. "Emperor Arthur, while your question isn't unreasonable, I suggest we all mind our tongues. Having witnessed my brother-in-law's power firsthand, and interacted with him, I must warn you that disrespecting my sister would be unwise. Besides, his patience is not infinite, and none here wish to test his wrath." She turned to Diana, her voice softening. "Sister, you as well—let us proceed into... the mist and attend to more pressing matters."

Lois Lane stepped forward, her expression grave as she nodded in agreement. "Princess Donna is right," she said, her voice carrying the weight of personal experience. "I've witnessed Orach's power firsthand. Though he can be reasonable and even kind at times, his ruthlessness when crossed is... beyond terrifying. We should proceed without delay."

As one of the few who had directly faced Emperor Orach and survived, her words carried exceptional weight, commanding immediate attention from all present. Without further debate, the assembled leaders and their entourages began moving forward. Cyborg, despite his attempts to analyze the mysterious mist's composition, had failed to understand it. Still, he led his team as they escorted the UN representatives.

As they ventured deeper into the mist, an unsettling phenomenon took place. The ethereal fog began to separate them, not violently, but with an inexorable gentleness that was somehow more unsettling. Each person found themselves gradually isolated from their companions, as if invisible currents were carefully pulling them apart. Even the most seasoned warriors among them felt a flutter of unease at this supernatural segregation.

Yet this was no ordinary mist. Infused with Emperor Orach's Ki—his vital energy and essence—it served a greater purpose. For Diana, Arthur, Lois, and Cyborg, the mist became a window to truth. Through the swirling mist around them, they witnessed records of the events as they took place in the original timeline preserved by Mother Empress and Mother2 last backup on the Void Sentinel.

Before their eyes, scenes from their alternate lives unfolded like short films. They witnessed themselves as they once were—their triumphs, failures, and relationships all hauntingly familiar yet profoundly different. The Justice League they observed felt alien to them all, revealing paths untaken and bonds never forged in their current timeline. Each vision sparked profound questions about identity, destiny, and the true nature of their reality. They found themselves wondering: how could a single change have altered their lives so dramatically?

At the heart of the dome stood a circular table, commanding the space with its presence. Nine ornate chairs encircled it, each adorned with a unique insignia that called to its destined occupant. The chair bearing the bat symbol was already occupied by an imposing figure—a tall man in an impeccably tailored black suit who exuded authority through his mere presence. At his side sat an elegant woman in a sophisticated evening gown, her arm intertwined with his. She radiated both grace and power from her seat marked with a joker's emblem rendered in stark white against black.

As the various entourages arrived first, their initial relief at reuniting quickly giving way to wary observation of the mysterious couple and their surroundings. Princess Donna emerged from the mist, followed by Arthur, Cyborg, Lois, and finally Diana, each rejoining their respective groups. Their followers noticed the complex expressions etched on their leaders' faces—expressions born from witnessing visions of their alternate lives in the mist. Lost in troubled contemplation, the leaders only returned to the present moment when their companions' concerned glances and calls drew their attention to the central table.

Cyborg was the first to break the tense silence, his cybernetic eye whirring as he analyzed the figures before him. "Mr. and Mrs. Wayne?" he asked, disbelief evident in his voice. "This shouldn't be possible. Especially you, Mrs. Wayne - according to all records, you were institutionalized after..."

"Please, take your seats," Martha Wayne interrupted smoothly, her voice though gentle carried unmistakable authority. Thomas Wayne nodded in agreement, adding, "The insignias will guide you to your proper places. We have much to discuss."

"How dare you presume to command us?" the UN representative's voice rang with indignation. "While an alien threatens the sovereignty of our nations, you sit here as if hosting a dinner party. Are you perhaps in league with this Emperor Orach?"

Diana studied the couple intently, a nagging sense of familiarity tugging at her mind. Though she couldn't quite place them, their presence at this crucial meeting spoke volumes—they must have played significant roles in the original timeline. Unlike the posturing UN representatives, she understood the gravity of the situation. Without hesitation, she stepped forward and located her designated chair, marked with the emblem of an eagle and sat down. The simple act carried weight, demonstrating both wisdom and leadership.

Arthur observed Diana's decision with quiet approval. As Emperor of Atlantis, he recognized the delicate balance between pride and pragmatism. Following her lead, he took his own seat, marked with a trident, his weapon held ready at his side. The tension in the space shifted as two of the most powerful leaders present chose to honor the mysterious couple's request.

The UN representatives, shut up by this display of leadership, grudgingly approached the table. A chair bearing the UN emblem awaited them, but immediately sparked an argument between the three representatives about who should take the seat. While they bickered, Cyborg noticed a chair marked with his own insignia. Though hesitant, he moved to claim it.

One of the UN representatives, seeing this, imperiously demanded Cyborg surrender his seat to them. Before Princess Donna, who had been silently observing the spectacle alongside the others till now, could step in to address their presumptuous behavior, a sharp clap cut through the tension. All eyes turned to Lois Lane.

"Enough!" Lois's voice rang with authority born from years of facing down far more intimidating figures. "You represent humanity here - act like it. This petty squabbling only diminishes us all in Emperor Orach's eyes. That chair," she gestured to Cyborg's seat, "clearly bears his insignia. Do you truly believe defying these carefully arranged seating assignments would end well?" She fixed them with a stern look. "While I respect the sovereignty of all nations, this meeting demands clear heads and decisive action. Choose among yourselves who best serves that purpose. The others can advise - but let's not waste any more time on ego."

Suddenly, the mist around them began to churn and twist, as if sensing the arrival of its master. Space itself rippled above the table, causing those who had witnessed Orach's powers firsthand to tense in anticipation. However, what emerged was not the Emperor himself, but rather a gaunt, emaciated man in a gray jumpsuit with an S its middle of his chest. He tumbled onto the table, clearly disoriented and terrified, curling into himself as if expecting a blow from the surrounding humans.

While most observers regarded this unexpected arrival with confusion, the US representative's reaction stood out dramatically. The moment he recognized the asset or the prisoner, he stumbled backward, his face draining of color. Pure terror etched itself across his features as he gripped his chair for support. This visceral response did not go unnoticed by the more observant members of the gathering.

Before anyone could voice the questions clearly forming on their lips, the space above the table rippled once more. A boot emerged first, followed by the imposing figure of Emperor Orach, his presence immediately commanding the attention of everyone present. The contrast between his bearing and the cowering man could not have been more stark.

Diana's breath caught in her throat as she finally beheld him. For years, his presence had haunted her dreams, leaving her torn between conflicting emotions - confusion over their mysterious connection, anger at his constant occupation of her thoughts, and an inexplicable, profound longing that defied reason. Now, as he stood before her, close enough to reach out and touch, she maintained her warrior's composure even as her heart raced. Drawing upon her years of training, she kept her expression neutral, though her fingers unconsciously tightened around the edge of the table.

As Orach emerged from the spatial ripple, his piercing gaze immediately locked onto the trembling US representative. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he gestured toward the cowering figure on the table. "I specifically instructed you to bring Kal-El of Krypton to this meeting," his voice carried a chilling calm. "Yet you chose to arrive without him, despite knowing he was in your custody. Are my words a joke to you humans?"

The revelation sent ripples of understanding through the gathered assembly. This frightened man before them was none other than Kal-El of Krypton—the one Orach had demanded be released from his 'wrongful' imprisonment. Lois Lane felt her heart constrict as she studied him. Through her conversations with Orach, she had learned this man in the original timeline was meant to be their world's greatest protector, destined to stand as a symbol of hope. More personally, he was supposed to be her man. Yet seeing him now, reduced to this shell of a man, trembling and broken, she struggled to reconcile these two vastly different versions of the same person or make sense of her conflicting emotions.

"I... I don't know what you're..." The representative's attempted denial was cut short as Orach raised his hand in a fluid motion. An invisible force seized the man, yanking him across the space until he dangled helplessly in Orach's iron grip before anyone could react.

"Consider your next words carefully, human," Orach's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, his eyes turning cold. "Let me show you the consequences of defying my words." With a snap of his fingers, countless displays materialized from the mist, each one revealing scenes of what could only be described as a slaughter.

Rewinding time-30 minutes before the meeting-Gotham City-Robinson's Park

"You…really went all out…," Martha Wayne murmured, gazing in amazement at Orach's handiwork. His powers had conjured a dome of mist enveloping Robinson Park. At its center, a massive round table dominated the space, surrounded by ornate chairs. Each seat bore an intricate insignia representing its intended occupant. Her eyes lingered on her own chair, marked with the Joker's symbol-a cruel reminder of what she had become in this twisted timeline. Despite the conflict it stirred within her, she remained resolute in her mission to help Orach restore the original timeline and bring back her beloved son Bruce.

"This meeting isn't solely about gathering intelligence to repair the timeline or reuniting with your wife in this altered reality, is it?" Thomas observed, his eyes narrowing as he sensed the deeper purpose behind Orach's calculated demeanor and actions. "You're pursuing another objective."

"Perceptive," Orach replied with a slight smile. "Bruce clearly inherited his sharp mind from you."

"Don't keep us in suspense," Martha leaned forward, intrigued by her husband's observation.

Orach looked up and gazed thoughtfully at the swirling mist before speaking. "Consider the peculiarity of recent events. Two ancient, and yet advanced civilizations, Atlantis and Themyscira suddenly abandon centuries of isolation and animosity to forge an alliance. They progress through months of careful diplomacy, even arrange a royal marriage to cement their union. Then, inexplicably, they descend into brutal warfare over a series of suspiciously successful assassinations."

"These victims were no ordinary casualties," he continued, his voice hardening. "They were seasoned warriors and masters of combat with heightened abilities—formidable fighters even by this world's standards. Yet they fell to hasty, amateurish assassination attempts. Even more troubling is the sudden appearance of enhanced individuals, particularly 'Captain Thunder,' who wields powers allegedly bestowed by this world's gods. This emergence is suspicious in a reality that has shown no catalytic event that could awaken such potential."

"You believe there are hidden forces orchestrating these events?" Thomas deduced.

"Precisely," Orach confirmed. "My performance wasn't mere theatrics. I needed to draw attention, to present myself as an unknown variable of significant power. If my suspicions are correct, these shadowy architects will make their presence known during this meeting. I intend to identify them, so I can eliminate these threats when I restore the proper timeline…huh?" He paused abruptly, his eyes narrowing as data scrolled across his scouter's display.

"What's wrong?" Martha asked, noting his sudden change in demeanor.

"My presence is needed elsewhere," Orach stated curtly, raising his hand to open a spatial ripple. "Excuse me." He stepped through the portal, leaving the Waynes behind.

"That look in his eyes..." Martha murmured, watching the ripple close. "Someone's about to have a bad day."

"Understatement of the year, my love," Thomas replied grimly.

Underground Metropolis secret Government Facility

"Alert! Unknown contact detected in upper airspace, descending rapidly toward our position!" The analyst's voice cut through the quiet of the command center, his eyes fixed on the pulsing red dot on his screen.

"Show me visual confirmation," ordered the captain, his weathered face illuminated by the array of monitors before him.

The main screen flickered to life, revealing a figure descending through the clouds with frightening speed. As the image sharpened, a collective gasp rippled through the room.

"Dear God... it's him," whispered the captain, his knuckles white as he gripped the command console. "The Emperor found us."

"How? This facility is buried under half a mile of lead-lined concrete!" An analyst's voice cracked with fear.

The captain steeled himself, pushing down his own terror as he assessed their options. They all knew about the assets and who, they were protecting and imprisoning in this facility. His jaw set with grim determination as he activated the base-wide comm.

"All personnel, this is not a drill. Execute Protocol Deathknell immediately. I repeat, Protocol Deathknell is now active." His voice grew stronger as he continued, "Since his first appearance, we knew this moment might come. We cannot give in to fear. Everything we've built, everything we've sacrificed—our normal lives, our connections, our very presence in the outside world—it was all for this moment. To protect these assets! Each one is of grave national importance. These assets have allowed our great nation to prosper and thrive. For our nation, for the people we swore to protect—TO ARMS! Activate all defensive systems. Protect the assets at all costs. Show this son-of-a-bitch alien what humanity is capable of!"

The facility erupted into action. Massive turrets emerged from hidden chambers, their barrels tracking the approaching figure. Deep beneath the surface, experimental weapons powered up, their warning sirens adding to the crescendo of preparation.

"All weapons systems online, sir! Energy cannons charged at 100%."

"On my mark..." The captain watched as Orach descended closer, now just seconds away from their first line of defense. "FIRE EVERYTHING!"

The sky above Metropolis lit up like a new sun as five big energy cannons and projectile weapons unleashed their fury simultaneously. Energy beams, experimental enhanced supersonic projectiles, and waves of destructive force all converged on a single point - the approaching figure of Orach.

At the sight of the incoming attacks, Orach's calm eyes turned cold. In an instant, golden energy exploded around him—his hair transforming to a brilliant gold, his eyes shifting to teal, while heavenly lightning crackled across his muscles as he entered his Super Saiyan form.

With casual wave, Orach extended his hand. Countless spheres of Ki materialized around him, each containing enough power to level a city block and sent it hurtling towards the incoming attacks. The two forces collided in a catastrophic display that lit up the Metropolis skyline. Orach's ki blasts effortlessly tore through the base's defensive barrage, continuing their deadly trajectory toward the facility below. The impact was devastating - surface installations vaporized instantly while the reinforced ground split apart, revealing the underground complex beneath.

Orach's scouter beeped steadily, tracking the lone Kryptonian life signature deep within the facility. Using his mastery over space, he vanished from sight, materializing directly inside through the breach he had created. Emergency klaxons blared as he strode purposefully through the smoking corridors, following the signal.

A squad of heavily armed soldiers rounded the corner, their weapons trained on his position. "Stop right there!" the squad leader shouted, his voice barely steady. Without breaking stride, Orach continued forward as they opened fire. Enhanced bullets, plasma bolts, and experimental energy weapons discharged in a desperate fusillade - only to dissipate harmlessly against his golden Ki aura. The soldiers' expressions shifted from determination to horror as they realized the futility of their resistance.

"Your weapons cannot harm me," Orach stated matter-of-factly and then raised his palm and said, "Now it's my turn." With a gentle wave of his hand, a controlled pulse of energy swept through the corridor. The soldiers vanished instantly, granted a swift, merciful end, free of pain. He walked past where the soldiers had made their final stand, moving through the destruction and blaring sirens toward his destination.

His scouter's readings grew stronger, guiding him closer to his target. Following the signal, Orach came upon a massive vault door, an imposing barrier of reinforced lead and exotic alloys. The Kryptonian's energy signature pulsed from within. With precision, he pressed his palm against the barrier. The door crumpled inward with a thunderous boom, revealing a stark chamber awash in crimson solar radiation.

There lay in a corner cowering in a grey jumpsuit bearing the House of El's crest was his target, Kal-El of Krypton. Kal-El's eyes widened with recognition and fear as Orach entered. "You... you're the one they warned me about. The Emperor."

"And you are Kal-El of the house of El from planet Krypton," Orach replied calmly, studying the imprisoned Kryptonian.

"I don't understand," Kal-El's voice was hoarse, weakened by the red sun radiation. "What do you want from me?"

Orach's expression remained neutral as he approached the containment field. "Want? Nothing. I am merely here to correct an error in the timeline."

"Please... stay back," Kal-El whispered, pressing himself against the wall as terror gripped him. Each of Orach's footsteps sent waves of primal fear through his weakened body. His instincts screamed danger, warning him that despite Orach's words, death approached.

Orach paused, reading his scouter's data with a slight frown. "Power level 300? How far you've fallen." His eyes swept over the emaciated figure before him. "The humans' capacity for cruelty never ceases to amaze me. In their desperate attempts to gain power, to combat their fears of the unknown, they've reduced their greatest potential champion to this."

A heavy sigh escaped him. "In the original timeline, you were Earth's beacon of hope, their mightiest defender - at least until I arrived and later guided Diana to surpass us both. Though some feared your power, countless more found inspiration in your example." His expression darkened. "Now look at what they've done to you. Their own symbol of hope, imprisoned and experimented upon like a lab rat. I wonder..." A thought flashed in his eyes. "If I were to merge your memories with your original timeline self, how would that shape you? Would witnessing humanity's darkness extinguish your love for them? Would Superman cease to exist? An intriguing thought experiment - but one that must wait. For now we have somewhere else to be." He reached toward the containment field.

Though Kal-El couldn't grasp the complexities of timelines and alternate realities, one truth crystallized in his mind, this being regardless of his words was no friend.

Heavy boots thundered down the corridor as the captain and his remaining soldiers burst in. "Stop right there, alien! That asset belongs to the United States government!"

Orach turned, regarding them with mild curiosity. "And you believe you can prevent me from claiming him?"

The captain's jaw clenched, but after a tense moment, he spoke. "We both know we can't stop you. Yet as soldiers, we'll stand our ground. But tell me—our intelligence shows you possess an ability to bring warriors to their knees with pure pressure. Why kill my men instead of using that?"

Orach's eyebrows rose slightly at the question. "Are you seriously asking me that?" He studied the captain's determined face before continuing, "When a soldier steps onto the battlefield, they accept two possibilities, taking life or losing their own. The moment your men raised their weapons against me, this became a battlefield. And on a battlefield, there is only one outcome for those who challenge a superior force." His eyes hardened. "Their deaths were swift and painless - more mercy than your people showed him." He gestured toward Kal-El.

Orach's words hung in the air as he turned back to Kal-El. With a precise gesture, the containment field flickered and died. The weakened Kryptonian slumped forward, but Orach caught him before he hit the ground.

"I won't let you..." the captain raised his weapon, but froze as Orach's cold gaze met his.

"Your dedication is admirable, captain, but futile." With another casual wave of his hand, he sent a controlled pulse of energy sweeping through the space. The captain and the remaining soldiers vanished instantly.

Orach shifted his grip on Kal-El and walked through a spatial ripple, emerging into the night sky above the facility. The cool air seemed to revitalize Kal-El slightly.

"What... what are you going to do?" Kal-El managed to ask, still weak from the red sun exposure.

"First, this," Orach stated coldly, raising his free hand toward the facility below. Golden energy gathered in his palm, condensing into a sphere of devastating power.

The ki blast descended like a falling star, striking the center of the complex. For a moment, everything was still. Then, the ground imploded, collapsing inward before erupting in a massive explosion that consumed the entire facility. The blast radius expanded outward, vaporizing concrete, steel, and earth alike, leaving nothing but a smoldering crater where the base once stood.

As the dust settled, Orach looked down at the stunned and horrified Kal-El. "Now, we meet the others." Creating a spatial ripple, he sent him through first before stepping in it himself.