The air in the Breach Room hung heavy with anticipation, a palpable sense of dread hanging in the air. You stood at the top of the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest, eyes fixed on the swirling vortex of energy that was the breach. It pulsed and hummed, a menacing heartbeat that throbbed in time with your own.

Suddenly, a figure erupted from the swirling chaos, landing with a skid on the metal floor. Dust and debris erupted from the impact, obscuring the figure for a fleeting moment. Then, as the dust settled, you saw him: Impulse, Bart Allen, Barry And Iris's son.

Clad in his vibrant red and silver suit, his orange goggles obscuring his eyes, he looked like a miniature, hyperactive version of his father. He scrambled to his feet, his voice a mixture of panic and excitement.

"Don't shoot! It's me, Bart! Bart Allen? Impulse? Son of Barry Allen? Holy Cow, you will not believe what I'm about to tell you!"

He rushed towards you, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and disbelief, eager to share the incredible, and perhaps terrifying, news that had brought him hurtling across the multiverse.