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The silence in downtown Metropolis was so silent you could nearly hear a pin drop. The air, moments ago filled with the cacophony of explosions, crumbling buildings, and the desperate screams of civilians, was now eerily, unnervingly still. The scent of ozone and burning debris had been replaced by the oddly cheerful aroma of fresh popcorn and cotton candy. Superman, still hovering a few feet above the miraculously restored pavement, stared blankly at the scene, his jaw slacked. The bewildered clown-thugs, now armed with sputtering water guns, looked equally stunned. Even Metallo, now a perfectly carved marble statue, seemed to exude a quiet, confused dignity.
Then a kid cried, "Mommy! I want popcorn!" Completely breaking the moment.
Immediately, the spell was broken. Another child chimed in, "I want cotton candy!" A giggle erupted from a small girl who had discovered the bounce house. The adults, released from their stunned silence, began murmuring, then chattering. Confusion slowly gave way to a strange, almost nervous excitement. It was as if a city-wide amnesia had afflicted everyone, replacing the memory of terror with the whimsical joy of a sudden, spontaneous carnival.
From the Watchtower, the scene was even more surreal. Batman had finally lifted his face from his hands, his expression a complex mixture of dread, disbelief, and grudging, terrifying fascination. The Flash was still sprawled on the floor, staring at the screen as if it were a hallucination. Green Lantern's ring, which had temporarily stopped glowing, now pulsed faintly, as if it too were trying to compute the impossible.
"He… he changed the elements," Batman rasped, his voice strained, raw with a dawning horror. "He didn't just neutralize the Kryptonite; he turned it into inert marble. He didn't just disarm the thugs; he rewrote their gear. He didn't just rebuild; he restored with perfect temporal precision. And he did it instantaneously. Without conscious effort. Without a thought that wasn't… 'Superman shouldn't die'."
Exactly! That's what I've been trying to tell you! I screamed internally, my own panic now tinged with a perverse sense of triumph. He's a literal reality-bending god! A terrifyingly innocent, easily distracted, junk-food-loving god!
"He's a… a living plot device," The Flash mumbled from the floor, finally pushing himself up. "Like, the ultimate deus ex machina. Only… a seven-year-old one." He rubbed his head. "My brain hurts."
Green Lantern, meanwhile, was slowly rising, his eyes fixed on Oliver Omni. "His energy signature… it just went from 'anomalous' to 'everything.' My ring can't even get a read on him anymore. It's like trying to measure the ocean with a thimble."
Oliver Omni, completely oblivious to the existential crisis he had just triggered among the Justice League, was now happily singing along to the cheerful calliope music filtering through the Watchtower's comms from the spontaneously generated circus tent in Metropolis. "Doo-doo-doo, the wheels on the bus go round and round!"
"He's… celebrating," Batman stated, his voice flat, as if observing a particularly disturbing psychological experiment.
"Well, he did just save Superman, didn't he?" Wonder Woman said, her gaze soft as she looked at Oliver Omni. Her compassion, while admirable, was starting to verge on terrifying naiveté in the face of such raw, untamed power. "He saw a wrong, and he corrected it. Perhaps not in the way we would, but effectively. And without malice."
"Without malice is not the same as without consequence, Diana," Batman retorted, his voice sharp. "What if his definition of 'correction' leads to something irreversible? What if he decides the moon should be made of cheese? Or that all criminals should spontaneously combust? He operates on childlike whim, with infinite power! That is the definition of unstable!"
He's got a point, Oliver! Remember that time you wanted all the clouds to be shaped like your favorite superhero, and it rained gelatin for three days? I mentally reminded him.
Oliver Omni giggled. "But the gelatin was yummy! And those bad guys were super grumpy! Now they can have fun!" He gestured animatedly at the screen where the clown-thugs were awkwardly trying to figure out how to work their water guns, one of them accidentally squirting another in the face, causing a cascade of honking noises.
Suddenly, a massive, booming voice, filled with a mixture of disbelief and awe, cut through the comms. It was Superman, his voice broadcasting directly into the Watchtower. "Batman… Flash… Diana… Hal… what just happened? My powers… they're back to full strength. Metallo… he's a statue. The thugs… they're clowns? And the city… it's like nothing happened. What in the blazes did Luthor do? This wasn't part of his M.O."
Batman winced, rubbing his temples. "It wasn't Luthor, Kal. It was… our guest. Oliver Omni."
A beat of stunned silence on the other end. Then, Superman's voice, now tinged with utter bewilderment. "The child? He… he did that?"
"He 'made it not broken,' apparently," Green Lantern chimed in, a nervous chuckle escaping him. "He thought you shouldn't die. So reality apparently agreed."
The Flash's voice, surprisingly serious, joined the chorus. "Supey, you should've seen it. One second you were on your last legs, the next, it was… a birthday party. A very confusing, very bouncy birthday party."
"A cosmic tantrum with universal ramifications," Batman summarized grimly. "He bent reality to his will, casually, instinctively. He's more powerful than any of us, possibly more powerful than anything we've ever encountered. And he doesn't even understand the implications."
Superman was silent for a moment, absorbing the information. Then, a low whistle of pure astonishment. "By Rao… He truly is… something else. I felt the change. It was like the universe itself sighed and reorganized itself."
"I'm telling you, this kid is a walking paradox-generating machine," The Flash said, now zipping nervously around the room. "We need a manual. Or a cosmic babysitter. Or both!"
Wonder Woman, however, had a gentle smile. "He is a child, Barry. And he meant well. He saved Kal. That is what matters."
"What matters is understanding his limitations, Diana," Batman countered, his voice sharp. "If he has any. And ensuring he doesn't accidentally unravel the fabric of spacetime because he doesn't like the color of the sky."
He actually did that once, too, I mentally recalled. Took us ages to get rid of the polka-dotted sky. And the raining marshmallows. Those were messy.
Oliver Omni, apparently sensing my internal thought, giggled again. "The marshmallows were yummy, Hart! And it looked pretty!"
Batman's eyes narrowed. He was clearly trying to discern if Oliver Omni was simply a powerful child or something more insidious. His instincts, usually infallible, were clearly struggling with this unprecedented variable.
"We need a plan for him," Batman concluded, rising from his chair, his usual decisive stride returning. "A long-term strategy. For now, Kal, secure Metallo. And the… clowns. We'll debrief thoroughly back here."
---
Securing Metallo was surprisingly easy. The now inert marble statue was heavy, but easily lifted by Superman. The clowns, however, proved more of a challenge. They were completely disoriented, their kazoo-voices honking in confusion, their water guns sputtering. They stumbled around, tripping over their oversized shoes, utterly harmless but hysterically uncooperative. The Flash, after a brief moment of stunned silence, found his comedic stride again and began zipping around, gently guiding them towards impromptu confinement areas, all while trying not to laugh at their absurd predicament.
"This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen," The Flash muttered, catching a clown mid-trip. "Luthor's gonna be livid. He planned a super-serious, world-threatening evil scheme, and it turned into a circus! Literally!"
Green Lantern materialized a series of shimmering green cages around the more resistant clowns, who merely honked louder in protest. "At least they're harmless now. Though I dread the paperwork on this. 'Suspects transmuted into clowns, evidence replaced by glitter and rubber duckies. Cause: unknown reality-bending child'."
Back on the Watchtower, Oliver Omni was still cheerfully singing, completely oblivious to the chaos he had caused. Wonder Woman was trying to engage him in a game of cosmic peek-a-boo, hoping to glean more information about his capabilities and internal state.
"So, Oliver Omni," Wonder Woman said gently, her voice calm and reassuring. "You say you are… the concept of existence. Does that mean you remember everything? From the beginning of time?"
Oliver Omni tilted his head, his ethereal white hair shimmering. "Mmm-hmm! I remember when the universe was super tiny, like a little sparkly dot! And then it went POOF! and there were stars! And then planets! And then, like, dinosaurs! And then people! And then… me!" He pointed to himself with a sticky finger.
He's literally describing the Big Bang and evolution as if it were a picture book, I thought, a fresh wave of awe and terror washing over me. He perceives time and causality on a scale that's impossible for a human mind to grasp.
"And Hart, he remembers all that too?" Wonder Woman asked, her gaze subtly shifting towards the empty space where I floated.
"Yep! He just doesn't like talking about it 'cause it makes his brain hurt!" Oliver Omni chirped, taking another bite of a cosmic cookie. "He says it's too many numbers and squiggly lines."
He's not wrong, I conceded internally. Trying to comprehend the birth of the universe through his eyes felt like cramming a library into a thimble.
Batman, meanwhile, had opened a secure comm channel to an unknown party. His voice was low, clipped, and filled with an urgency that I rarely heard from him. "Yes, I need every available arcane specialist. Every meta-physicist. Every theoretical physicist and xenolinguist. Immediate deployment to the Watchtower. Top priority. We have a… an anomaly. A… a godling. And we know nothing about him."
He was already moving, preparing for the inevitable wave of experts, scholars, and possibly even more bewildered superheroes, who would descend upon the Watchtower. The implications of Oliver Omni's existence, and his casual manipulation of reality, were clearly weighing heavily on him. He was a creature of order, a master of contingency, and Oliver Omni was pure, unadulterated chaos, wrapped in an adorable, seven-year-old package.
When Superman finally returned to the Watchtower, Metallo-as-statue securely contained, he walked directly to Oliver Omni. His eyes, though still weary, held a new, profound respect.
"Thank you, Oliver Omni," Superman said, his voice sincere and full of genuine gratitude. He knelt down, bringing himself to the child's eye level. "You… you saved me. You saved Metropolis. No one has ever done anything like that."
Oliver Omni giggled, beaming. "You're welcome, Superman! You're my favorite! Are you gonna fight more bad guys now? Can we get a selfie?!"
Superman chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of the Watchtower. "I… I think we need a little break from fighting for a bit, Oliver. But… a selfie? Maybe after we figure out… everything else." He glanced meaningfully at Batman, who merely grunted in response.
This was going to be an uphill battle. Explaining the complexities of his powers, the need for caution, the potential dangers of his whims… it felt like trying to teach quantum mechanics to a goldfish. Oliver Omni lived in a world where desire equaled reality, where consequences were simply things that could be un-willed away. And that was a terrifying, beautiful, utterly unpredictable paradigm.
As the Watchtower AI calmly announced the imminent arrival of a dozen highly specialized, and undoubtedly very confused, scientists, I knew one thing for certain: my days of existential dread were far from over. In fact, they were just getting started. And for the first time in a long time, I actually felt a flicker of something new amidst the fear: curiosity. What else could Oliver Omni do? What kind of insane, impossible adventures lay ahead? And how many more times would I have to mentally scream into the void while he cheerfully turned super-villains into puppets?
I couldn't help but sigh and mutter once again.
Godd*mmit...