"Limited to ones' Imagination" - DC Fanfic

The void was silent. Not the silence of an empty room, nor the quiet of a world at peace. No, this was the kind of silence that came before existence itself—before light, before time, before the very idea of something existing had ever been imagined.

Alex floated in it, his form still that of Alien X, his cosmic, star-dotted body a stark contrast to the emptiness surrounding him. His three glowing eyes observed everything and nothing at once.

And yet, despite the infinite nothingness, he wasn't idle.

His mind—his near-omnipotent, cosmic, all-encompassing mind—was already at work.

Carefully, meticulously, he began to gather the remnants of the world that had been erased.

It would be so easy to make it different.

To change things.

To fix all the mistakes.

But that would be wrong.

Dangerous.

There was an order to things, even within the chaos of existence. If he changed too much—if he made the world into something it was never meant to be—it would no longer be that world.

So, instead, Alex did only what was necessary.

He reached into the remains of the erased reality, collecting only what was needed, piecing it together exactly as it was meant to be before Barry shattered it.

It was like sculpting from memory, each fragment of reality slotting into place like a puzzle with pieces scattered across an infinite sea.

His mind worked at speeds beyond human comprehension, his thoughts weaving the very fabric of time and space.

It should have felt impossible.

And yet, to him, it was merely...

Work.

Then, suddenly—

He wasn't alone.

A presence emerged in the void.

Not like the cold, mindless force of destruction. Not like the cosmic entities that sought only balance or survival.

No, this was something beyond all of that.

Something... older.

An old man, dressed in a simple suit, a cane in one hand and a worn hat resting atop his head. His eyes held knowledge beyond infinity, a gaze that had seen every creation and destruction that had ever existed.

And Alex recognized him instantly.

The Presence.

The highest being in the DC Omniverse.

The one that even the most powerful gods and cosmic entities feared and revered.

The one who answered to no one...

Except perhaps one even greater.

Alex didn't bow, didn't kneel. That wasn't his way. Instead, he stared at the Presence and asked the first question that came to mind.

"Why was Barry able to go back in time, but not Thawne?"

The Presence smiled politely, as if pleased by the question.

"Because Thawne was going to find you and kill you," the old man answered simply. "Or at least, he was going to try."

Alex's glowing green eyes narrowed slightly. "You say that like it would've mattered."

"It wouldn't have," the Presence admitted. "But there was more at stake than just your life."

The void rippled slightly as he spoke.

"You may not know this yet, Alex," the Presence continued, his voice calm yet absolute, "but your power is its own being. If you die, it dies. And if it dies... so does all of Imagination and Freedom."

For the first time since entering the void—

Alex went silent.

He processed the words carefully, his mind still weaving the universe back together even as he considered their meaning.

Imagination.

Freedom.

If he died, they died.

Not just in the sense of losing a single concept, but in the most literal, fundamental way.

A world without Imagination.

A world without Freedom.

What would that even look like?

Something inside him twisted at the very idea.

The Presence let him sit in that silence, watching as Alex continued his work.

Then, after a time, he finally spoke again.

"Remember the code, Alex."

The words were spoken with purpose, as if they carried a weight that only Alex could understand.

"3x2(9YZ)4A=?

Alex's cosmic body froze for a fraction of a second.

Then, softly, he answered.

"I know."

The Presence smiled again, a knowing twinkle in his ancient eyes.

"Good."

Then, after a brief pause, he tilted his head slightly.

"Don't you want to know why you're here?"

Alex didn't hesitate.

"No."

The Presence raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"It's not necessary information," Alex said simply. "I'm here. That's all that matters."

He turned back toward his work, his cosmic hands shaping the final pieces of reality into place.

"If I was reborn in this existence," Alex continued, "then my purpose is mine to make. Reason or not, I won't be tempted by fate."

Then he paused, letting his three glowing eyes settle on the Presence once more.

"As you technically said," Alex continued, his voice calm, "I'm the embodiment of Imagination and Freedom."

The Presence let out a deep, rich laugh.

It wasn't mocking.

It wasn't arrogant.

It was genuine.

"I like you," the Presence said at last, shaking his head with amusement.

Then, with a simple wave of his hand, the rest of the world—the pieces Alex had yet to place—came together instantly.

Alex blinked.

The universe was…

Complete.

The Presence dusted off his suit, as if he had just finished a casual chore. "There," he said. "That should do it."

Alex looked around, then back at him.

"...Huh."

The Presence smiled again. "It's been nice, Alex."

Then his expression became just a bit more serious.

"Don't be tempted by such egotistical ideas," he advised. "And maybe I won't have to call the man upstairs."

Alex tilted his head. "Who?"

The Presence glanced toward a wall of nothingness, his expression unreadable.

Then, with a small smile, he simply said:

"It's not important."

And just like that—

He was gone.

Alex floated there for a moment, the void around him slowly fading as the newly restored world took shape.

Then, at last, he looked down at the note in his hand.

Thomas Wayne's final gift to his son.

With a slow breath, Alex closed his fingers around it.

The universe was restored.

Barry would remember.

And Alex?

He had work to do.