Chapter Text
The Justice League Watchtower floated in absolute silence, a cold, silver needle sewing a gap between the Earth and the void. For three years, 1,095 days, it had been less of a headquarters and more of a shrine.
Inside the command center, the silence was absolute. Batman stood at the main console, his cowl reflecting the endless stream of data that said the same thing it had said for 1,095 days: Status Quo Maintained. Null-Shield Active.
"The Null-Shield is still holding strong," Superman said quietly, floating a few feet off the deck. He crossed his arms, staring out the viewport at the blue grid that encased the Earth. "Whatever he’s doing inside that ice, it’s working. The Entropy Wave hasn't advanced a single inch."
"It's not just ice, Kal," Wonder Woman murmured, leaning against the console. She looked tired. They all did. "It’s will. He is holding the sky up with sheer stubbornness."
She turned her gaze from the void to the man standing rigid at the console. Her expression softened, shedding the Amazonian warrior to reveal the old friend.
"He comes by it honestly, Bruce," Diana said softly. "He has his father's spirit. That boy would challenge the gods themselves if he thought it would keep this family safe."
Superman floated closer, placing a heavy, reassuring hand on Batman’s shoulder. It was a breach of personal space only he would dare.
"We miss him too," Clark said, his voice low and warm. "He’s our nephew, Bruce. We aren't going to stop until we can find a way to bring him home. I promise."
Batman didn't pull away. He stared at the screen, his jaw tight, fighting the emotion that threatened to crack his composure. He gave a single, sharp nod, the only admission of pain he could afford.
Suddenly, the silence shattered! The Watchtower’s alarms started blaring in a way they hadn’t since the Entropy Wave cut across the solar system!
Red light bathed the bridge. Batman’s fingers flew across the keys, the moment of vulnerability instantly replaced by tactical precision. "Proximity alert. Internal sensors have identified an intrusion."
"Internal?" Flash blinked, vibrating to a halt next to the chair. "That’s impossible. Nothing gets through the Null-Shield. Is it a breach? Is the wave leaking in?"
"No," Batman growled, his voice dropping to that dangerous, gravelly register. "It’s not a leak. It’s a ship."
"A ship?" Green Lantern frowned. "From where? Deep space?"
"From the Hangar Bay," Batman said, turning sharply. "Someone just parked in our living room."
The Hangar Bay was massive, designed to house Javelins and shuttles. But the vessel sitting in the center of the deck didn't look like WayneTech or Kryptonian design. It was orange, blue, and bird-like, with swept-forward wings and engines that hummed with a distressed, rattling cough. It was The Benatar.
The Justice League descended in force. Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Flash, and Aquaman formed a semi-circle, weapons drawn, eyes glowing, Speed Force crackling. Batman dropped from the rafters, landing in front of them, his cape flaring like a shield. They were prepared for an extinction-level event.
"Unknown vessel," Batman projected his voice, amplified by his cowl. "Power down and identify. You have breached a quarantine zone."
The ramp of the alien ship hissed. Hydraulic steam vented with a groan that sounded like the ship was as exhausted as its passengers. The ramp lowered, hitting the metal deck with a clang.
A raccoon walked out.
He was upright, wearing a grease-stained flight suit and carrying a gun almost as big as he was. He looked around the pristine hangar, scratched his ear, and spat on the floor.
"Well," the raccoon grumbled. "Gravity works. That's a plus."
"Is that... a talking raccoon?" Flash whispered, the low hum of his vibrations momentarily stuttering with the sheer absurdity of the sight in front of him.
"I’m gonna pretend I didn't hear that, Sparky!" the raccoon snapped, baring his teeth at the Speedster. Then he sighed as he turned back to the dark interior of the ship. "Coast is clear! Mostly. Try not to look threatening, they look tight-assed."
A man in a red and silver pressurized suit stepped out next. He retracted his helmet, revealing the face of Scott Lang. He looked nauseous. "Okay. Note to self. Sub-atomic travel through the Quantum Realm through the Bleed is... chunky. Anyone else taste purple?"
"Focus, Scott," a voice said.
Steve Rogers stepped onto the ramp. He was wearing his more muted tactical Captain America armor, the star on his chest scuffed and dirty. He looked older than the history books suggested, his beard peppered with shots of grey and his eyes haunted.
Behind him came the others. Natasha Romanoff, hair braided back, hand resting on her holster. Clint Barton, wiping the blade of a katana. Thor, heavy-set and disheveled, gripping Stormbreaker like a crutch. Bruce Banner, his intelligence now locked into the body of the Hulk. And finally, Tony Stark. The Iron Man armor retracted into a nanotech housing on his chest, leaving him in a track suit that hung loosely on his frame.
They looked like the survivors of an apocalypse.
"Halt," Wonder Woman ordered, raising her sword. "You are intruders in a protected sector. Identify yourselves and state your intent."
"Whoa, whoa," Scott Lang raised his hands. "We come in peace! And... other stuff."
Batman stepped forward, his eyes narrowing behind the white lenses. "How did you get past the Shield? Nothing enters this system. The physics and magic are absolute."
"Your barrier covers the macro-universe," Scott said, tapping a device on his wrist. "We didn't break it. That blue fence is solid. We went under it. Quantum Realm. Sub-atomic GPS. You got a nice little firewall, but it’s full of holes if you know how to shrink small enough."
"We aren't here to fight," Steve Rogers said, his voice carrying that natural command that made even Superman pause. He stepped down to the deck, empty-handed. "We're looking for something. We tracked a signal."
"You breached a quarantine to look for a signal?" Batman’s voice was cold growl, almost vibrating with barely restrained anger. "Do you have any idea what is outside that shield? If you compromised the integrity of the hull--"
"We know what's outside," Tony Stark interrupted. He walked past Steve, looking at the Justice League with a mixture of arrogance and exhaustion. "We know exactly what's out there. Dust. Ash. Entropy."
Superman’s eyes glowed red. "You’ve seen it?"
"Seen it?" Tony let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "We lived it. We're the ones who survived it."
Superman’s eyes didn't stop glowing, but he tilted his head slightly. His hearing focused, cutting through the hum of the ship’s engines to pick up the rhythm of the strangers' hearts. They weren't the steady, disciplined beats of an invasion force. They were skipping, heavy, and erratic.
"They’re telling the truth, Bruce," Superman said, his voice deep and resonant, cutting through the tension. "I can hear it. Their heart rates... they aren't attacking. They're terrified."
Wonder Woman lowered her blade a fraction of an inch. Her eyes locked onto Steve Rogers—not his shield, but his posture. She recognized the weariness of a commander who had buried too many soldiers.
"They carry the weight of a great loss," Diana noted, her tone shifting from guardian to judge. She looked at Thor, recognizing the divinity in him, and the brokenness that came with it. "This is not a raiding party. It is a funeral procession."
"We aren't invaders," Tony said, his voice losing its edge, replacing it with desperation. "We're here to fix The Snap."
The word hung in the air.
The Snap.
Batman froze. His mind raced, connecting dots that shouldn't have connected. Entropy Wave. The Snap. It was a specific vernacular. It implied intent. It implied an event, not a weather pattern.
"The Snap?" Superman asked, confused.
Batman held up a hand, silencing the League. He stared at Tony Stark. "You didn't call it the Entropy Wave. You called it a Snap."
"Because that's what it was," Natasha Romanoff said softly. "A snap of fingers."
Batman lowered his guard, just an inch. He looked at the ragtag group of exhausted heroes. He saw the trauma in their eyes. It was the same trauma he saw in the mirror every morning. Only a witness from the epicenter would call it "The Snap."
"They were there," Batman whispered.
"What?" Hal Jordan asked.
"They aren't invaders," Batman said, standing down. "They are witnesses. They were at the epicenter of the Wave." He looked at Steve Rogers. "Stand down. Let them speak."
Twenty minutes later, the two teams stood on the Observation Deck of the Watchtower.
The view was dominating. Outside the thick glasteel, the universe was a swirling vortex of purple and grey dust. But holding it back was the Null-Shield, a magnificent, translucent blue grid that wrapped around the Earth like a second atmosphere.
And in the center of the grid, floating in the vacuum, was the source.
Tony Stark walked to the window. He stared at the figure frozen in the center of the blue energy.
It was a statue of ice. A slender knight in jagged, crystalline armor, arms folded in close, as if in prayer, but the direction of his gaze cast out towards the abyss of the void. The power radiating from it was immense, a song of absolute Order keeping the chaos at bay.
"That's it," Rocket said, checking his scanner. "That's the signal. The frequency coming off that thing... it’s anti-entropic. It’s canceling out the Stones."
"It’s not a thing," Wonder Woman said softly. "He’s a person."
Superman floated closer to the glass. He placed a hand against the pane.
"I can hear him," Superman whispered. The anger from the hangar was gone, replaced by a profound, heartbreaking gentleness. "It’s faint. Slower than anything I’ve ever heard. But there is a heartbeat inside that ice. He’s listening to us."
"He’s protecting us," Diana corrected softly. She looked at the Avengers. "In our world, the boy is a warrior. He took the burden of Atlas onto his own shoulders so that we could continue to live."
"FRIDAY," Tony tapped his chest piece as a feeling of dread began to settle somewhere in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to be wrong, but he had to be sure. "Give me a read. What am I looking at?"
The A.I.’s voice was soft in the quiet room. "Scanning... Subject is biological. Human. Male. Vital signs are suspended in deep cryo-stasis. Cellular activity is zero, but neural activity is off the charts."
Tony stared at the frozen figure. The ice obscured the face, but the size was undeniable. The build was slight. Wiry.
"Estimated physical age," FRIDAY continued. "Seventeen."
Tony gripped the railing. His breath hitched.
Seventeen.
Suddenly, the blue ice wasn't blue anymore. It was red dust. The knight wasn't a stranger; it was a kid in a Spider-Man suit, stumbling, clutching Tony’s shoulder. I don't feel so good, Mr. Stark.
Peter Parker was around sixteen or seventeen when he dusted. This wasn't just a soldier; it was a mirror image of the boy he lost on Titan.
"He's..." Tony’s voice cracked. He couldn't look away. "He's just a kid."
He turned to the dark figure standing next to him. "He's the same age as..." Tony didn't finish the sentence. He looked at Batman. "You put a teenager in there? To hold up the sky?"
"I didn't put him there," Batman said. His voice was devoid of the usual intimidation. It was just hollow. "He put himself there."
Batman looked at the frozen boy. For a moment, the Cowl didn't look like a mask. It looked like a mourning veil.
"Is he a soldier?" Tony said, trying to rationalize it, trying to find the anger.
"No," Batman corrected him. He turned to look Tony in the eye. "He’s my son."
Tony froze. The silence stretched between the two men, the Billionaire in the iron suit and the Billionaire in the cape. Two fathers who had built armors to protect the world, but couldn't protect the children they brought into it.
"He sacrificed himself to save his family," Batman said quietly. "To save all of us. He has been out there, alone, in the cold, for three years."
Tony looked back at the boy in the ice. He remembered the guilt that had eaten him alive for five years. He remembered the empty chair at the dinner table. The anger dissolved in that instant.
"Yeah," Tony whispered. "I know the feeling."
He straightened up. The exhaustion didn't leave his face, but a spark of the old fire returned to his eyes. He looked at Steve. He looked at the League.
"We didn't come here to hide," Tony said. "We came here to build a weapon. We have a way to fix this. To bring everyone back."
He looked at Batman.
"And if we do this right... we get your son out of the ice."
Batman stared at him. For the first time in three years, the white lenses of the cowl widened slightly. Hope was a dangerous thing. But looking at the desperation in Stark's eyes, Bruce Wayne decided to take the risk.
"Then let's get them back," Batman said. "The Strategy Room is this way."
The Strategy Room on the Watchtower was a holographic tank ringed by consoles. The Avengers and the Justice League stood around the central table, which was currently projecting a vast, shifting map of the Multi-verse, overlaid with the creeping purple decay of the Entropy Wave.
"Alright, show and tell," Tony Stark said, tapping the table. A holographic diagram of a sleek, heavy-duty gauntlet appeared. "We're here to talk about reversing a universal cluster-flick, and that requires power. Thanos used a glorified oven mitt; we use something better. This is my design, a second-generation Stark Nanotech glove. It integrates the Stones seamlessly, handles the energy feedback, and is durable enough for the Snap."
Tony looked up, expecting the usual nod of genius. He got a frown from Batman and a flicker in Cyborg’s optic eye.
"The thermal variance is insufficient, Stark," Batman interjected, his voice clinical. He manipulated the hologram, showing stress points glowing red. "Your nanotech will handle the kinetic force, but the heat generated by six Infinity Stones converging on one point could potentially reach sixty-five hundred Kelvin based on these calculations. You need a material with greater dimensional stability, or the user will vaporize before the thought registers."
Tony blinked. "Sixty-five hundred?" He checked the numbers again, and grudgingly found that Batman was right. "That's a little more aggressive than I was anticipating."
Batman didn't move. "We've spent three years analyzing the Entropy Wave's decay signature. We have a counter-frequency, the Null-Equation, that our telepaths have managed to obtain from my son’s mind. It’s the equation that the Null Shield is using to stop the Wave from reaching our Earth” Batman brought up another screen that shared the exact equation. It was long and complex, but immediately the Smart Hulk, Bruce Banner adjusted his glasses and moved to take a closer look while Batman continued.
“Over the last three years we have been trying to devise a containment field strong enough to broadcast it, so we can create a synthetic Null Shield in hopes that it would allow my son to drop his so we could bring him home. But up until now we’ve had gaps in our technology that we couldn’t fill to make it work, but your nanotech housing is the first material we've seen that has the potential, and the Infinity Stones are the only power source we’ve seen that could come close to replicating or even surpassing the power provided by a Nexus Being."
He overrode Tony's hologram. The gauntlet's housing was instantly replaced by a matte-grey material with a faint, iridescent sheen.
"This is the material used in our synthetic Null-Shield concepts: Nth Metal," Batman continued. "It has dimensional properties that can contain the cosmic energy and stabilize the chronal displacement needed for the counter-equation. It is the only thing that can channel your power source reliably."
"He's right," Cyborg called out from his console, his red eye glowing as he scanned the schematics. "I can integrate the Nth Metal with your nanotech. More than that, the core processor will need to run the Null-Equation. I can use the New Gods' Mother Box technology as a living circuit board. It's Apokoliptian tech, it can handle cosmic data on a multiversal scale, and it will ensure the counter-equation doesn't decay."
Suddenly, a fur-covered blur leapt onto the table. Rocket Raccoon scrambled over the console, adjusting micro-calibrators on the holographic design with his tiny paws.
"Oh, yeah, baby, now we're talkin'!" Rocket purred with a sharp toothed grin, clearly inspired by the influx of alien technology. "A literal space god's tech! No more duct tape and prayers! If we route the Stone's chronal displacement through the Nth Metal matrix, we can stabilize the feedback loop using a Mobius inversion. That's a patch code for reality, not a simple undo button!"
Tony Stark stood back, his jaw slightly slack. He looked at Batman, Cyborg, and the raccoon working in a chaotic, synchronized blur. He looked at Banner, who was grinning excitedly at the technical synergy.
"Okay," Tony muttered, a spark of the old fire returning to his eyes. "This is... better. A whole lot better! You guys have been busy."
Bruce Banner adjusted his glasses, a look of profound respect on his face. "This isn't just fixing the Snap, Tony. This is a scientific breakthrough. The amount of new physics and tech we're learning from Earth-0 is incredible, not to mention what we can share with them in return!"
"So, we have the glove design," Steve Rogers said, cutting through the genius-babble after sharing a look with Superman and the other multiversal heroes around the table. "Now we talk power. We need all six Stones to power this reversal, correct?"
"Yes," Batman confirmed, looking at the Avengers. "They are the 'hyper-batteries' that fuel the final commands: Delete the wave and bring them all back."
"And who wields it?" Flash asked, glancing nervously at the Stone diagram.
Batman and Tony looked at each other, then at the monstrous schematic glowing on the table. They were not ready to answer that question.
"One problem at a time," Tony said, a cold determination settling on his face. "First, we get the Stones. Then we build the glove. Then, we worry about who puts on the glove. The Time Heist has to be perfect."
Batman gave a single, sharp nod, his focus already on the mission. "Then what are we waiting for. Let's get started."