by Barry Lyga
He was asking questions after getting the answers. Causality had been flip-flopped, spun around on its axis, tossed in a blender. Effect no longer necessarily followed cause. They’d been in the time stream so long that time itself was losing its grip on them.
“I think the Time Trapper moved it farther into the future!” Superman shouted suddenly.
“Did we already go through the Iron Curtain of Time?” Barry asked. “Is it really this easy?”
Answered before asked.
“Yeah, it’s disorienting,” Barry told him.
“I think I see the Iron Curtain somewhere around the year two million. Is this . . . is this causality spiral giving you a headache?”
Barry tried to ignore the temporal discrepancies. He just kept running.
The Iron Curtain of Time loomed before them. Causality was beginning to take shape again as the “quantum event” from the year 200,650 faded into deep history. They were more than two million years in the future now, and the barrier athwart the time stream did, indeed, seem like a curtain—a grayish, rippling wall that stretched to infinity in every direction.
“This is it!” Superman yelled.
Yeah, with only billions more years to go once we get through it, Barry thought.
Still, getting through the Iron Curtain was the important part, he knew. The rest of it was just, well . . . running.
The Curtain loomed before them. Barry’s heart froze and his blood turned to ice at the sight of it, so infinitely massive, so powerful and adamantine. The Waverider couldn’t get through this thing—could he?
At his back, the vibrational pattern initially generated by ten thousand speedsters urged him forward. All that power, following them from the distant past into the far-flung future.
Yes. Yes, he could do it. More, he would do it.
Now.
Barry slowed ever so slightly, allowing himself to drop back into the tidal swell of the Earth 27 speedsters. The wavefront of the vibrational pattern relaxed against him for a moment, then rebounded, impelling him forward at even greater speed. It occurred to him suddenly that James Jesse and the rest of the Earth 27 refugees had been dead for thousands of millennia, but their hope and goodwill still extended into the future, propelling him onward.
The Iron Curtain of Time rose before him. Barry sprinted ahead, not slowing for an instant as the Curtain loomed higher and higher, larger and larger.
If they’d miscalculated, he knew, he would be destroyed beyond even death, his body shredded at the subatomic level and scattered throughout Time.
“I’m going through!” Barry shouted to Superman. “Hang back half a second so you can pull up if it doesn’t work!”
“Not a chance!” Superman yelled back. “We go through together. Our chances are better if we all hit at once.”
Barry wanted to argue the point, but there was no time left in which to do so. At a speed that was incalculable and undefinable even for the Flash, they hit the Iron Curtain of Time.
Barry had assumed that the Iron Curtain of Time would slow them down, the same way that the simple friction of a paper screen would slow down someone jumping through it, albeit minutely.
But he’d been reckoning based on the physics of the real world, where friction mattered. Here in the time stream, friction didn’t exist—it was a construct of three dimensions, not four.
Bursting through the Iron Curtain of Time, he found himself moving faster, not slower. Beside him, Superman’s face lit up with pleasant surprise. They bridged dozens of millennia with every step forward, their momentum increasing their velocity until millions of years blurred by with each eyeblink.
Superman’s expression of joy suddenly sobered. “There’s nothing, Flash,” Superman said, his voice strangled with awe. “I’m using my powers to perceive the physical world outside the time stream . . . We’ve gone so far into the future that the stars are dying. Worlds are frozen, tumbling through a darkening void . . .”
Barry nodded grimly. He had known, deep down, that traveling to the end of the universe meant going to a time when everyone and everything were dead. Had been dead for a long, long time. Iris—his heart clenched like a desperate, angry fist—had been dead for billions of years; by now, all that was left of her was random carbon atoms fusing to iron in the depths of the swollen sun, its convective zone having expanded to where the planet Earth had once been.
But I can go back. We can get Cisco and defeat Thawne and win the day and go back.
That thought and that thought alone propelled him farther, faster.
“I see something,” Superman said. “I see the end! There’s nothing beyond!”
Barry slowed his body’s vibrations, matching them to the surrounding physical universe. In a matter of instants, the rushing bands of rainbows around him subsided, dimming, then going translucent, then finally vanishing altogether.
He stood on a rocky outcropping that drifted in a black void. There should have been stars overhead, but there were none, merely spots that seemed a little less black than the surrounding emptiness. Asteroids of various shapes and sizes floated nearby in the abyss, suspended like eroding ornaments on a dead Christmas tree.
Barry stretched out his arms and felt a slight tug, like a tight-fitting jacket. The Legion of Super-Heroes had provided the team with a technology called a “transsuit,” which was a “polymeric transparent body encasement.” It worked similarly to the ring in which Barry stored his Flash costume—when exposed to a harsh environment, a tiny capsule sewn into the user’s clothing expanded into a nearly invisible sheath of special polymers that surrounded the entire body. It filtered oxygen from the surrounding environment, and in a vacuum it could even break down the wearer’s exhaled carbon dioxide, ejecting the carbon into space and recirculating the oxygen. They all had them, even Superman, who didn’t need one but could use its tech to communicate in a spatial vacuum. The transsuit was invisible and almost undetectable, save for the slight pull when he moved his limbs to their extreme limits.
“What is this place?” Ray asked in a hushed voice. The Atom, White Canary, Heat Wave, and Green Arrow had emerged from the Time Sphere and stood nearby on the dead soil.
“The end of everything,” Superman replied in a reverent tone. “This is the last outpost of reality, the final moments of existence before the entire Multiverse . . . dies.”
“Everything looks almost . . . bluish,” Sara said, her voice hesitant, as though embarrassed to bring it up.
Barry and Ray exchanged a glance, sharing a moment of science-think. “Blueshift,” Barry said in something like awe. “Never thought I’d see it.”
The universe—the universes, really—had been created in a single moment billions of years ago called the Big Bang. Basically, all matter in the universe had been condensed into a space the size of a single atom. At some point, the pressure of all the mass built up and the atom exploded—i t made a Big Bang, hence the term—and spewed matter out into the void, creating the universe.
As a result, everything in the universe was always moving away from everything else. This led to something called redshift—the faster and farther one object accelerated away from another, the closer to the red part of the electromagnetic spectrum it would appear to an observer. Since everything in the universe was propelled by the force of the Big Bang and moving away from everything else, that meant everything was redshifted.
No longer. They were now experiencing blueshift. Which meant that the universe was collapsing, not expanding.
“Cosmologists were wrong,” Superman muttered. “It’s closed, not flat.”
Barry immediately understood. Cosmologists had basically agreed that the universe was flat. By which they didn’t mean it was two-dimensional. The term flat simply meant that the force of the Big Bang, the amount of dark energy in the universe, and the density parameter combined to craft a universe that would continue expanding into infinity.
But the Multiverse was the agglomeration of all universes.
Perhaps that combination of separate physical models yielded not something flat but rather what cosmologists referred to as a closed universe, where gravity takes hold and everything contracts into a Big Crunch. All matter would blueshift as it drew toward each other, eventually compressing into the space of a single atom again.
Barry understood now: By opening breaches and shunting matter between universes, the Time Trapper had artificially manipulated the amount of matter and energy in each universe. Changing the universal densities and causing fifty-four Big Crunches, leading to this, the End of All Time. The Biggest Crunch of all.
And then there would be nothing left. Forever.
“I think this is why we’re here,” Superman said, pointing.
They all followed his gesture. A spindly rock floated some distance away, but even those without telescopic vision could make out a steely structure of some sort erected on its surface. And standing there was a large figure swaddled in a purple cloak. Yellow and blue light flickered and flashed there. Two other asteroids drifted nearby, each of them with a metallic structure that—even at this distance—seemed corroded. Everything here was corroded, Barry realized. Everything was as old as anything in the universe could possibly be. The ground was dead. The sky was dead.
“That’s our enemy,” he said. “That’s the Time Trapper.”
33
“Breach!” Caitlin yelled. “Breach!”
Sure enough, a blue vortex spiraled into existence in the center of the Cortex. No one should have been breaching into S.T.A.R. Labs. Iris immediately snatched up a phase rifle that she kept in a bracket under her workstation console, aiming it at the cloudy blue mass. Meanwhile, Caitlin and Felicity dived for cover behind some chairs.
Iris blew out a controlled breath, then sighted down the barrel of the rifle as a silhouette formed at the center of the breach. It took a step forward.
“Don’t shoot! I come in peace!”
“Kara!” Iris threw down the rifle, not wanting to think how close she’d come to zapping her friend with whatever a phase-centric photonic array was.
Supergirl hunched up her shoulders, wrinkling her nose in embarrassment. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to spook you guys.”
Felicity and Caitlin came out of hiding as Iris threw her arms around Supergirl. “I am so glad to see you, Kara! We could totally use a Kryptonian right now.”
After returning the hug, Supergirl held Iris out at arm’s length, her expression one of disappointment. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but my powers still aren’t back. I came here because Brainy and Lena have things under control back on Earth 38, and I thought you guys might be able to use an extra pair of hands. Even if they aren’t superpowered.”
“We can always use your help, Kara,” Caitlin assured her.
“Even if that extra pair of hands can’t, you know . . .” Felicity mimed bending something with both hands.
“Powers or not, we’re grateful you’re here,” Iris said. “It’s good to see you up and about. Why don’t you settle in at Cisco’s old station and take a look at—”
Iris glanced at the computer screen, then did a double take and looked again.
“Hey!” she called out. “Why is there a second pulse coming from the speedster treadmill?”
Supergirl grinned nervously. “I don’t even understand the question, honestly.”
Felicity craned her neck to peer at the screen. “What are you even talking about?”
“Look at the telemetry from the treadmill,” Iris insisted, pointing. “It’s all wonky.”
Felicity snorted derisively. “Wonky. I love when you try to be all technical and precise and . . . Hey!” she exclaimed as she skimmed the readout. “That is wonky!”
“See?”
Grinding her teeth, Felicity tapped some keys. “It looks like the speedster treadmill has been modified.”
“How would that happen?”
“Dunno.” Felicity shrugged. “It’s wonky.”
Iris growled with impatience. “Well, let’s figure it out, because anything that messes with the treadmill can’t be good news.”
The main screen bleeped for attention. Mr. Terrific’s image fuzzed into place. He held an ice pack to the back of his head. “Gang, we have a problem, and its name is Owlman.”
34
In the Bunker, Joe watched the feed from multiple security cameras. The chaos in the streets of Star City in the wake of the A.R.G.U.S. broadcast was not as bad as he’d feared. Yes, people were afraid, even panicking, but several days of Ambush Bug’s madness had prepared them for more craziness. In general, people took the warning seriously and the streets emptied quickly, save for a few teenagers and twenty-somethings who just had to stick around and shoot selfies and videos.
“Idiots are gonna die trying to one-up each other’s Instagram Stories,” Joe muttered.
“Nah, they’re probably doing it for TikTok,” Rene advised. “That’s what all the teenagers are on now.”
“I’m glad we settled that,” Joe said. On the monitor, the swarm was shifting. It was going to happen any moment now. He could feel it in his bones.
“Any last ideas?” he asked the room. “No matter how crazy? Bert? Your last chance to be a hero.”
Larvan snorted and pointedly gazed at the floor between his feet.
“That collar thing she wears seems to let her focus her sonic screams for different effects,” Dig mused, pointing at Dark Canary. “What if we took it off her and let Dinah use it?”
Dinah hmpfed and made a show of sticking out her tongue. It was grotesquely bulging and dark red.
“Right. Forgot. Sorry.” Dig flashed her a smile, then turned and tossed a grossed-out expression at Joe.
On the screen, the swarm bunched . . . massed . . .
And then dived from the air.
It was beginning.
“Buh . . . Flash isn’t back from the future yet,” Supergirl said, just barely catching herself before blowing Barry’s secret identity. On the screen before her, she saw not only Joe West, Dinah, Diggle, and Rene, but also a handcuffed Bert Larvan and a woman who looked like Dinah’s cosplaying cyberpunk twin sister. Kara had questions, but Joe’s frantic expression obviated them. Code names were the order of the day, and speed was of the essence, especially with Owlman in the wind again.
They had caught her up quickly on what was going on, from the group of heroes headed to the far future to the fracas in Star City. Supergirl ached to fly over to help out, but thus far her powers had only begun to creep back in. Her hearing seemed a little sharper, and she thought when she walked that there was a little extra bounce that might be flight coming back. But she was too darn mortal to do much right now.
“The swarm’s hitting now,” Joe told her. “The A.R.G.U.S. satellite estimates over two hundred thousand bees, and there are still people in the streets. Plus, Ambush Bug is teleporting all over the city and causing havoc. We gotta have Flash here—he’s fast enough to grab all the bees and stop this. It’s the only way.”
“Joe, I don’t know what to tell you. Flash and Superman and the others ran off to the End of All Time and haven’t come back. We don’t even know if they’ll come back at all, to be honest.”
“I’ve got an entire city about to look like something from a fifties horror movie!” There was real panic in Joe’s voice. “We’re holding the line, but we need help and we need it now, Kara, or you’re looking at a major American city going the way of the dodo!”
She could never be certain what, in that moment, sparked the idea for her. But a notion suddenly smacked into Supergirl’s awareness with such force that she actually rocked back a bit in her chair, as though physically struck.
“Joe, hold on.” She put his feed on pause and hit the button that connected her to Curtis. Mr. Terrific was still out by the treadmill.
“Curtis! I have a crazy idea!”
“You’ve come to the right place!” Curtis said cheerfully.
35
Sara swallowed hard. Barry’s pronouncement—That’s our enemy. That’s the Time Trapper—echoed deep within her. She took in a deep breath, aware how precious air was and that a tear in the synthetic, invisible transsuit would mean her death.
Oliver sidled up to her. “A long way for two party kids from Starling City, eh?”
His nonchalance buoyed her spirits. Good old Oliver. So deadly serious and so committed, but also so ready to puncture the moment right when it desperately needed puncturing.
“I think I imagined something like this one night when I was drunk on that terrible absinthe you brought back from England,” she said casually. “But at least I just woke up with a miserable hangover.”
“No waking up from this.” It was Mick, standing at her side. His face and bald dome were awash in sweat. He’d brought the ring to heel, but it was taking a toll on him.
A part of her thought, Is this even worth it? They were billions—billions!—of years in the future. So far from home that the very word home had lost all meaning in the distant past. Anti-Matter Man had been defeated on Earth 38. Couldn’t they just. . . go back to the present? Snuggle up with their loved ones? By the time this current moment came to pass, they’d all be long, long dead.
But she knew that wasn’t an option. The Time Trapper existed at the End of All Time, but his threat stretched back through history and across the Multiverse. They had to beard this particular lion in his den and end his threat. For good.
“I’m starting to feel a little outclassed,” Sara admitted. She hefted the golden length of rope she’d been given. “Even with this ace up my sleeve.”
Oliver chuckled knowingly and gestured to the Time Trapper, looming in the distance. “You know what? We’ve faced some seriously Big Bads in our time, and we’re still standing.”
Sara nodded. It was true. And beyond being a superhero and a trained assassin, she was also the captain of a timeship. It was time to take charge.
“Let’s stop staring and get planning,” she barked. Everyone startled and turned to her. “We’re not gonna kick that guy’s butt by glaring at him. We need a strategy.”
