At Ben's request, Batman ultimately agreed to help—and brought in Dr. Leslie Thompkins.
The moment the red-haired woman with thin-framed glasses stepped into the room, her eyes locked onto the man in the bat-suit trapped inside the strange crystal.
Her breath caught.
"Thomas…? Is it really you?"
Ben reached out and removed the cowl.
The face underneath was older—hair gone pale, features carved by exhaustion—but it was unmistakable.
Even after twenty years, Leslie recognized her old classmate. Her friend.
"When Bruce told me to come," she said quietly, voice shaking with disbelief, "I thought he'd just… dreamed of you again."
On the way here, Bruce had already explained this Thomas Wayne—how he wasn't from this world, how his history didn't match theirs.
Leslie had assumed it was another toxin-induced hallucination—Gotham had no shortage of those.
But hallucinations didn't look back with tired human eyes.
Now she knew: it was real.
Which meant Bruce's story was real, too.
She swallowed.
"They said… in your world, Bruce died in that alley that night?"
Thomas didn't flinch from the question.
He told her what came after—how he became Batman, and how Martha became something else.
"Yes," he said. "As you can see… in that world I became Batman. Martha became the Joker…"
Leslie's hand flew to her mouth.
"That's… horrifying."
Ben watched them settle into a rhythm—painful, but stable, the way real therapy starts: truth first, comfort later.
Then he stepped out of the room.
He'd done his part. Now he just needed to keep the environment clean and quiet.
Because somewhere nearby… something was stirring.
He heard movement from the adjacent room.
"So you're waking up already?" Ben muttered, moving fast. "Not yet. Nobody's interrupting this session."
In the corridor—someone impossible
At the far end of the hallway, in a shadowed corner, an amber-yellow blur phased into existence.
He was moving so fast that he never fully stopped vibrating—so all you could really see was a smeared silhouette.
A man from the 25th century.
A monster who knew history like a script.
A Speedster linked to the Negative Speed Force.
Reverse-Flash.
He watched Ben with a frown—not of fear, but of confusion.
Something about that kid didn't add up.
Reverse-Flash could sense time anomalies—especially visitors from parallel worlds.
But with Ben… he got nothing.
No "signature." No readable thread.
Like someone—or something—was actively masking the boy from his perception.
"That's not right," he whispered. "I don't know who you are at all."
His eyes narrowed.
"After Flashpoint… something interfered with this timeline."
He was curious, yes.
But curiosity wasn't his priority.
Revenge was.
He wanted Thomas Wayne to suffer—not to reunite, not to heal, not to find closure.
"I didn't send you here so you could play happy family," he hissed under his breath.
What breaks a father the fastest?
Reverse-Flash knew heroes. He knew how to hurt them in ways that never healed properly.
No one could force Bruce Wayne to stop being Batman.
And that was exactly why Reverse-Flash dragged Thomas into the main world.
He wanted Thomas to spiral.
To become extreme.
To sabotage his own son's life—again and again—until every time Bruce put on the suit, it carved another wound into Thomas's chest.
And now Ben was interfering—trying to stabilize Thomas with therapy.
Reverse-Flash didn't fear challenges.
He welcomed them.
"You want to fix this?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "Then I'll light Gotham like a powder keg. Let the whole city burn."
The spark: murder as a message
He phased through the wall into the room where the gang bosses were still unconscious.
His right hand rose.
For a Speedster, a vibrating hand wasn't a hand anymore.
It was a blade.
He flashed forward—too fast for sound to keep up.
One. Two. Three…
He drove his hand through chest after chest, harvesting lives as casually as turning pages.
When it was over, every gang boss in that room was dead.
He turned his head slightly, as if speaking through the wall to Ben.
"He can only watch his son walk deeper into the Bat's path," his voice echoed faintly. "No matter what you do, this city will only harden Bruce's faith."
Then he became a dark-red bolt of lightning dragging a yellow afterimage—
—and vanished from the Iceberg Lounge.
Ben gives chase: Fasttrack vs. Reverse-Flash
Ben saw the flicker—an electrical smear leaking out of the sealed room—and his instincts screamed.
"Who's there?!"
He slapped the Omnitrix.
The enemy was fast. To catch speed, he needed speed.
The dial rolled—Ben caught the silhouette he wanted and slammed the selection.
"Want to race?" he snarled. "Then let's go—Fasttrack!"
Green light burst.
Armor formed.
The visor sealed.
And Ben launched after the fading red lightning.
From the Lounge to the street—everything else became slow-motion.
Pedestrians moved like they were underwater.
Cars crept like toys.
But that red bolt ahead…
Even with Ben pushing Fasttrack to the limit, it was barely more than a receding afterimage.
"Dark-red lightning… insane speed…" Ben's mind raced. "Reverse-Flash?"
He remembered the comics.
Thomas Wayne crossing over after Flashpoint.
Reverse-Flash's revenge.
If this really was him…
Then Ben had a problem: Fasttrack was fast, but without the Speed Force, he was still in a different league.
And Reverse-Flash knew it.
A mocking voice slid into Ben's ear—close, intimate, like the speaker was standing beside him.
"Is that all you've got?"
Ben whipped his head.
Nothing—just a fading spark.
Then the voice again, laughing.
"Where are you looking? My movement is faster than my voice."
Ben stopped running.
He knew this type. Reverse-Flash didn't just want a win.
He wanted pain.
He opened his comms and shouted into the empty street:
"Reverse-Flash! I know it's you! Come out—do you want me to call the Flash over here and see who's really fast?"
The moment Ben said Flash—
Reverse-Flash snapped into view, a red lightning storm with a yellow tail.
He sneered.
"With speed this pathetic, don't make me laugh."
And then he grabbed Ben's arm.
Negative Speed Force contact
Reverse-Flash accelerated violently—dragging Ben along like dead weight.
"Feel it, kid?" he roared. "This is real speed!"
Speedsters usually carry a protective aura—a field that prevents air friction, impact shock, and the ugly physics of moving too fast.
Reverse-Flash didn't give Ben that protection.
Because he loved watching "almost-fast" people get shredded by the world.
He expected Ben's feet to grind into blood.
His body to burn from air friction.
His bones to fail.
But Fasttrack's physiology held.
Fasttrack species were built for absurd velocities—able to handle extreme stress and control friction through their natural traction mechanisms.
Reverse-Flash also wasn't at full power—this wasn't the "prime" Reverse-Flash, but a time remnant, a leftover fragment after the true one had already died in Flashpoint.
So Ben endured.
And then—
A spark hit the Omnitrix symbol on Ben's chest.
Something clicked.
Ben felt it: a foreign, incomprehensible force pushing through him.
The Omnitrix emblem started flickering with strange lightning.
Reverse-Flash felt it too—because his power started leaking backward.
He looked over his shoulder and saw it: his Negative Speed Force lightning was splashing onto Ben… and forming a protective field around him.
His face twisted in fury.
"You're stealing my power!"
He stopped instantly—and with a cruel flick of momentum, hurled Ben into a building.
Ben smashed through one wall.
Then another.
Then a third.
Only then did he stop.
Pain flared across his body—sharp, total—
…and then began fading fast as Fasttrack's resilience kicked in.
Ben stared at his chest.
The Omnitrix symbol crackled with strange electric light.
"…The Omnitrix can do this?"
Attempted kill—and the Omnitrix fights back
Reverse-Flash reappeared in front of him in a burst of red lightning.
He lifted Ben by the throat with one hand.
With the other, he shaped his fingers into a vibrating blade and stabbed straight for the Omnitrix.
No more games.
If Ben could share his Speed Force access, it endangered the remnant's ability to stay ahead of death.
But just before the vibrating hand touched the emblem—
The Omnitrix defense system activated.
The lightning on the symbol detonated outward in a massive energy shockwave.
Reverse-Flash was blown back, skidding across the ground.
He felt something cold and wrong in his gut—instinct screaming.
He rose, glared once at Ben—
—and fled, becoming lightning again.
His voice lingered behind him like a curse.
"This was a warning. Next time, I'll make you die ugly."
Ben stood in the wreckage, the Omnitrix still crackling.
And now he understood the new stakes:
Reverse-Flash had made his move.
Gotham had just been set on fire.
And Ben had accidentally touched a power that the Speedsters treated like a law of nature.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 175)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 126)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter105)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter100)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter82)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter134)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 70
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 87
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 79
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 64
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 73
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 45
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 49
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 45
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 45
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 31
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 27
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player 26
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