No one could have seen it coming. A child laying in the cold blood of his mother’s fallen body. It was hours before they found him there, victim to an unforeseen threat. It was a monster... A pale green corpse that emerged within the shadow of death.

     How could he have known? How could anyone? It was an officer who arrived first. Who took the petrified boy in his arms and draped him in the long armed coat of the law and said “It’s over. There’s nothing left to be afraid of.” And he was right. The world ended that night for Bruce Allen. There was nothing left to fear. There was only time. Endless waves on the ocean of history to relive the tides of anguish that would return. And somewhere, deep inside the soul of a child, a vow was made without knowing it. From that point on, he would always be prepared. No matter what.

     He advanced in school quickly. So quickly that he broke through the barrier of grade levels. But it wasn’t just his academic brain. At 12 he was a junior in high school, and something competitive inside made him determined to shape his 12 year old body into an athlete capable of competing with the 18 year old seniors. He put on muscle, sure. But it was his speed and agility that made him unbeatable. On the football team, Bruce was untouched as a wide receiver. He got to the ball wherever it went, and always caught it. The years rolled on through endless hours of studying and calisthenics. It was when he was in college, studying forensics that the whispering began.

     The whispers... Had they always been there? A hot hissing, speaking tell tale truth in his ears? A force guiding him towards something? Preparing him? They went on for years, teaching… guiding him into his early twenties where he took a job at the police station he was taken to that fateful blood soaked night. It was late. The room frozen by the humming current of wind rushing through the metal vents of the sterile lab. It was always cold there. Like a cave. Just how he wanted it.

It was then those whispers echoed with something carnal. A rage inside him he had been suppressing. A longing for justice. It spoke within him. It spoke to him with her voice. Mom. Guiding like an echo to a bat in the night… leading him to the window where the storm rolled in. He saw the flash, the imminent strike of curved light arching towards him. He had the moment to move… but he didn’t. He stood firm to the wayward bolt that broke through the glass. The screeching hiss cried out like a mother wailing in labor and threw him into the rack of chemicals. “It had to be this way”  her whisper tells him. “Time comes for us and now you have become part of it.” He saw it all… The grim face that took his mom, and the seed of life it sewed in him from that day. He saw the years of toil and growth in the womb of preparation. But at the culling of burning light from the sky, it was then that the boy had officially been reborn.

... A bolt to outrun time...

... A warrior to undo death...

... A burning light within the shadows...

... The  Electric Echo.

This story was written by combining Batman  and the Flash's origins, per my friend, Andrew Choo's, request to give the character pictured above, a backstory.