Chapter 242 - 122 The Speed Force, Barry’s Probe! Part 1

Chapter 242: Chapter 122 The Speed Force, Barry’s Probe! Part 1

Cold water vapor condensed on the rock walls of the Batcave, the sound of dripping water echoing repeatedly in the cavernous space, as if counting down to an impending storm.

Alex looked at the exhausted Bruce, who was curled up in a ball, a hint of surprise flashing through his black eyes.

Barry Allen, the speedster capable of traveling through time and space, another Son of Destiny in the DC Universe.

"The Flash? Is he not in the Justice League?"

Bruce slowly shook his head, a trace of distant nostalgia sweeping past his grayish-blue eyes. The Batcave still bore the scorch marks from the lightning strike—the place where he had once restored Barry’s connection to the Speed Force.

"As the host of the Speed Force, Barry can travel through time and space at will."

His voice carried a hint of hoarseness as the moments of Barry’s time-traveling slowly surfaced in his mind.

"In fact, much of the evidence of that man’s crimes was discovered by Barry. Monitoring global signals, videos of secretly executing dissidents... that man thought he was acting covertly, but in front of a time traveler, he had no secrets whatsoever."

"When Barry realized he was being targeted, in order to avoid being eliminated, he hid himself within an unknown fissure of space-time."

He paused, the jumping code on the screen illuminating his stubble-covered face.

"But before he left, we made an agreement. As long as I found a way to end that man and left a message in the Batcave, I knew he would return immediately."

Alex nodded slightly.

The Flash’s Speed Force inherently allowed him to cross timelines; returning to the past to investigate that man’s anomalies was perfectly normal.

Moreover, the dimension of the Speed Force was a natural safe haven. Aside from speedsters of the same caliber, no one could capture him within that torrent of energy.

Running fast enough indeed helped avoid a lot of trouble.

The two waited in silence for a moment. Suddenly, the bats hanging upside down from the cave ceiling collectively flapped their wings. Their black wings stirred up the damp water vapor, their sharp screeches piercing the dead silence of the cave.

Immediately after, barely perceptible spatial ripples appeared in the air, like an invisible stone being dropped onto the surface of water. Even the water droplets on the rock walls paused their descent.

In the next second, a dazzling golden bolt of electricity exploded out of thin air, like a thunderclap tearing through the darkness. As the light faded, a red figure suddenly appeared.

The tight red combat suit outlined an athletic physique. The golden lightning emblem on his chest gleamed brilliantly under the faint blue light of the screen. Tiny golden electric arcs still coiled around his body, as if he had just broken free from the torrent of time, even the strands of his hair still carrying the residual warmth of the Speed Force.

The Flash, Barry Allen.

He was much younger than Bruce. His blond hair was slightly curled from the heat of the Speed Force. His breathing was slightly hurried, but his gaze was sharp.

He quickly swept his eyes over the dilapidated Batcave—the shattered wreckage of the Batwing, the mountain of empty liquor bottles, the battered computer sparking with electricity—and finally, his gaze locked onto Bruce.

When he clearly saw Bruce’s stubble-covered, ragged appearance, Barry’s pupils contracted sharply. The golden electric arcs around his body trembled violently. His voice carried a buzzing sound from traversing space-time, as if he hadn’t fully stabilized from his extreme speed state.

"Bruce? You... how did you end up like this?"

The rest of his words caught in his throat. That wealthiest man of Gotham who was always in a suit and tie with a cold gaze, that Dark Knight who protected Gotham... how could he be curled up beside a pile of scrap like a homeless vagrant?

What exactly had happened to Gotham?

What had that man done to him?

Bruce smiled bitterly and shook his head. His voice was as hoarse as if it had been ground by sandpaper, every word wrapped in an unresolvable hatred.

....

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