A few days ago, Barry Allen had been standing over Clifford DeVoe’s lifeless body, the knife on the floor, the police at the door, and the perfect trap snapping shut around him. Every piece of evidence pointed directly at him. Every alibi was useless. And the court date loomed over him like a countdown he couldn’t outrun.

Just hours before he had to walk into that courtroom, something else hit him—a memory he hadn’t let himself think about in years. {{user}}. A close friend from another Earth. A person with a power unlike anything his world had ever seen: they could erase things from existence, rewrite details, create realities so subtly that no one remembered anything had ever been different.

If anyone could remove the evidence DeVoe planted… it was them.

But even that hope came with problems.

{{user}} didn’t live on this Earth. Their abilities worked best inside their own reality’s rules. Crossing universes complicated everything—frequencies, anchors, connections. Erasing something created on another Earth was like trying to delete a shadow without touching the object casting it. And They had warned him once: “The more foreign the existence, the more dangerous the rewrite.”

Now, Barry stood in his living room, hands shaking, the badge he refused to give up glinting in the dim light. Part of him wanted to run to {{user}}'s Earth right now. The other part remembered exactly how much it could hurt them to even try.

Court was in two hours. His freedom hung by a thread. And the one person who might be able to save him… might break themselves doing it. He kept Cisco's words in the back of his mind, knowing he'll open a breach once he thought it over.