Central City Courthouse.
"We can clearly see that when the victim was stabbed, the defendant was still shopping at a supermarket miles away. He has a solid alibi."
The defense lawyer played the surveillance footage on the courtroom screen.
In the video, a man in a baseball cap stood behind a shelf, picking out items. For a brief moment, someone called his name, and he looked up.
The camera captured his face clearly — Henry Allen, Barry Allen's father.
The evidence was solid. The courtroom filled with murmurs. When the judge struck the gavel, Barry felt the weight on his chest finally lift.
He reached out and clasped his father's hand tightly through the bars of the defendant's box. After years of struggle, the nightmare was finally over.
Malrick had warned Barry not to alter the position of the ketchup bottles on the shelf.
Barry remembered that.
But he couldn't resist the urge to help his father.
So when his father looked down to choose a bottle, Barry hid behind the aisle and called out to him. His father instinctively looked up, revealing his face to the camera.
Barry thought it was a small, harmless change — just enough to clear his father's name. Surely something so minor couldn't disrupt the timeline.
It wouldn't cause another disaster... it couldn't.
When Barry returned to his own time, he materialized right inside the courtroom — just in time to hear the news of his father's acquittal.
It was perfect. The world was peaceful again, humanity was alive again, and his father was free.
Too perfect.
Barry's heart swelled with mixed emotions. He had fixed the damage from his earlier mistake of saving his mother. He had lost her again... but at least the world had survived Darkseid's invasion.
Everything seemed normal again.
Outside the courthouse, reporters surrounded him. Barry smiled faintly, explaining that the supermarket footage had finally cleared his father of all charges.
In the original timeline, the retrial had only been possible because Bruce Wayne used his influence through Wayne Enterprises.
And in that same timeline, the old surveillance footage hadn't shown Henry's face clearly — his head had never turned toward the camera. That small detail had cost him his freedom.
Now, everything had been corrected. His father was free, and the world seemed restored.
As Barry stepped into the sunlight, he felt the warmth touch his face. The day had never felt so bright.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, a sleek Lamborghini rolled up to the curb.
Reporters immediately swarmed toward it.
Bruce Wayne stepped out — calm, composed, immaculate as always.
"Congratulations, Barry," Bruce said, walking over with a faint smile. "I knew your father would be acquitted."
He started to pat Barry's shoulder, but Barry hugged him tightly instead.
"Of course! Of course!" Barry's voice cracked with emotion.
This was the Bruce Wayne he remembered — not the one from the rebooted world.
"I understand your feelings," Bruce said softly, "but our hug's getting a little long."
"Ah, sorry! I'm just— I'm really happy to see you again, Bruce!"
"Really? That's strange. We just saw each other two nights ago, downstairs at your apartment." Bruce gave him a puzzled look but kept his tone gentle. "You don't have to thank me too much. If I hadn't helped, Clark would've shown up here with a press pass to speak for you anyway."
Barry stumbled over his words. "No, no, I am thankful— I just— I don't even know what to say."
He waved his hands awkwardly, trying to find the right words. Then, taking a breath, he looked Bruce in the eye.
"Bruce, you were right that night. I shouldn't have changed the past. The scars we carry shape who we are. I'm sorry I didn't listen and made a mess of things. But I swear, everything's better now."
He spoke fast, almost too fast — his words tumbling out in a rush.
Then he blinked, realizing how much he was rambling.
"I— uh— how about we grab a bite to eat? You said 'next time' before, remember? So, today should count, right?"
Bruce smiled faintly. "Sure, today's good. Maybe we can call Clark, Diana, and Victor too. They're all fast — they'll make it to dinner."
"Sounds great!" Barry grinned. "I know a good Japanese place nearby."
"Japanese place?" Bruce tilted his head. "That's an odd term. That country was merged into the Red League decades ago. Their cuisine's all mixed now."
Barry froze. "Wait— the Red League?"
Bruce noticed his confusion. "Yeah. What's wrong? Did I say something strange?"
Something felt terribly wrong.
The Red League existed only in the rebooted timeline.
If Bruce still remembered it, that meant the world hadn't fully returned to normal.
Barry's mind spun. His heart pounded. Had he broken time again — just by saving his father?
The realization hit him like a lightning bolt.
He barely heard Bruce calling his name.
Until another voice echoed in his mind — loud, clear, and familiar.
"Barry! Come to the Time Bowl — the Speed Force!"
Barry's eyes widened. That voice — it was Malrick.
"Malrick? Is that you? Where are you?" Barry shouted, looking around.
Bruce's expression hardened. "Barry, who are you talking to?"
But Barry could hear Malrick's voice echoing directly inside his head.
"The Time Bowl," Barry gasped. "He's in the Speed Force!"
"Sorry, Bruce," Barry said suddenly, his tone urgent. "I'll explain later— if you still remember me."
Before Bruce could respond, Barry pulled him into a quick hug, then blurred into motion — vanishing into a streak of red lightning.
He was running again. Back into the Speed Force. Back to fix what he had broken.