Did we really gain nothing?
The dark power asked itself the same question. The answer it arrived at was apparently yes. But a question without an answer is not the same as a question with a satisfying answer, and certain intelligences do not accept the former.
It abandoned the perimeter. It returned to the body.
This time, rather than settling, it sought something specific. A point of entry. The spacetime anomaly that had to exist if something had interfered with the resurrection. A delivery had occurred from the outside. That meant contact had been made.
Jude saw exactly what it was doing.
He opened his mouth.
SYSTEM: No action required. Proceeding as planned.
A flash of gold.
The last of the Speed Force discharged in a single, concussive wave, and Jude and Clark hit pavement.
A busy street. Morning light. Pedestrians moved in both directions with the purposeful density of a mid-commute rush.
"We're—" Jude straightened, scanning the area. "No. Wait."
Something was fundamentally misaligned. The phones in people's hands bore logos he did not recognize. The digital billboards across the street advertised companies that existed in no universe he had visited. The fast-food restaurant on the corner displayed a collaborative branding promotion that made zero sense. The clothing passing him felt adjacent to styles he knew, but entirely off-center.
Not the Dark Multiverse. Not home.
"This is The Boys universe," he said.
He pulled up the system panel.
SYSTEM: Return to The Boys Universe — complete.
SYSTEM: Portal between The Boys Universe and the Dark Multiverse severed.
SYSTEM: Environmental scan in progress...
SYSTEM: ⚠️ Anomaly detected.
Barbatos's energy had followed them.
In the final microsecond before the portal sealed—moving faster than the system's clearance protocol, slipping through the collapsing gap—a fragment of dark power had ridden the connection directly into Clark's physical form.
The cold hit instantly.
SYSTEM: Residual power of Barbatos, detected.
SYSTEM: Initiating energy clearance.
Jude watched his asset point counter.
The system's voice remained flat, devoid of urgency, simply processing data. The dark energy was being extracted and eliminated, and the cost of the procedure was tracking in real time. The numbers plummeted at a rate that made his stomach turn.
"This is your 'estimated five hundred thousand to two million,' isn't it," Jude said. He watched another hundred thousand evaporate. "Was there no option that didn't involve importing this thing directly into a transit universe and then executing it here?"
SYSTEM: This was necessary. If the energy had not been drawn out and eliminated, it would have remained inside the Dark Multiverse, compounding the corruption already present. By routing it here and severing the intercosmic connection, the link between this fragment and Barbatos is permanently cut. Barbatos performed one gaze when the initial portal opened. No second gaze was detected during timeline operations. It received no feedback from the fragment and is unaware that the timeline has been altered.
The Dark Multiverse timeline was now relatively stable.
For the time being.
SYSTEM: Energy clearance complete.
The counter read 370,000.
Jude exhaled. Two million asset points, gone in roughly ninety seconds. He thought of the food cart, the accumulated labor, the years of budgeting in an alternate universe. Then he pushed the thought aside.
He turned to Clark.
Clark stood in direct morning sunlight. By every law of his biology, it was exactly what he needed.
He looked like his skeleton was made of damp cardboard.
His muscle mass had visibly degraded. His face was drawn tight. His posture collapsed inward, the stance of a body drained past the point where remaining upright was an automatic function.
"Where," Jude said slowly, "is my solar-powered Superman."
SYSTEM: Due to Barbatos's dark energy exposure, Clark's recovery rate will be reduced for a period of time. This is a characteristic of Barbatos power — it can suppress the natural abilities of superheroes across multiple universes. Recovery effects, including solar absorption, will be significantly impaired until the aura dissipates naturally.
"So sunlight won't fix this."
SYSTEM: Correct. Most recovery effects will be meaningfully reduced during this period.
Jude reached into his coat and pulled out a piece of chocolate.
It was high-grade system stock, kept in reserve for exact scenarios like this. Fairy-grade, liqueur-filled, roasted. It operated on percentage-based healing rather than flat values, scaling with the target's total capacity rather than hitting a fixed ceiling.
"Eat this." He handed it over. "It won't restore the maximum capacity you've temporarily lost, but it will bring your current threshold back up. And if one isn't enough—"
"It won't be," Clark said, his voice stripped of breath.
"Then eat more. The percentage-based healing is reduced, but it still scales. Stack enough and you get there."
Clark ate the chocolate. Then another. Jude watched him closely.
It worked. Sluggishly at first, then gathering momentum. The muscle filled back out. The hollows left his face. His spine straightened. Within fifteen seconds, Clark looked like himself again. Functional.
He drew a few slow breaths.
"That energy," he said. "I have rarely felt anything like that in my life."
"I know." Jude shook his head. "And I should have anticipated it. Some of the aura is still clinging to you. It will dissipate eventually, but until it does, we cannot return to our universe. We'd track it home."
Clark shifted. "But Lois is expecting—"
"Time moves differently between universes," Jude said. "Where we're from, it's paused. She won't know you're late."
He surveyed the street. "Our immediate priority is to establish a base and figure out the second half of the job."
He checked the system's progress indicator.
Fifty percent.
The Dark Multiverse segment was complete. The Boys universe was the remainder.
Can I buy identity documents?
SYSTEM: Standard local documentation — for both you and Clark: ten thousand asset points. Thank you for your patronage.
"Affordable," Jude muttered, feeling the documentation populate into the system's inventory.
He was about to suggest moving off the street, find somewhere to assess the situation and plan the second phase of a mission set in the most cynically corrupt superhero universe in fiction, when the sound hit.
It originated across the street. A high-pressure displacement of air. The specific crack of mass moving at extreme velocity through a dense urban environment. It sounded like Barry in his early days, before he learned to manage his speed—raw, careless, prioritizing power over control.
Jude turned.
A blue blur crossed the intersection.
Heading directly toward a pedestrian.
Clark was already moving.
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