The Accelerated Mind
The first few years of Alex Wayne's life were a fascinating blur of accelerated development and suppressed instinct. While his twin brother, Bruce, followed the typical milestones of infancy and toddlerhood, Alex was playing an entirely different game. His infant mind, though constrained by a tiny brain and body, possessed the full, adult consciousness of Alex Chen, along with the nascent power of a Primordial Saiyan and the conceptual reality of the Gate of Babylon.
He walked at six months, spoke in full, complex sentences by a year, and by two, was engaging the Wayne family's extensive library with an insatiable hunger. His parents, Thomas and Martha, were bewildered but delighted. They attributed it to the "Wayne intellect," a genetic gift that surely skipped a generation or two to manifest so early in their second son. Bruce, though also bright, was comparatively a normal child, more interested in building blocks and playing with Alfred than reciting Shakespeare.
"He's truly extraordinary, darling," Martha would often whisper to Thomas, watching Alex pore over an astrophysics textbook, his bright emerald eyes glowing with fierce concentration. "It's almost... otherworldly."
Alex, meanwhile, was conducting his own rigorous, internal training regimen. He quickly realized that direct access to his full Saiyan power or the Gate of Babylon was impossible in his current form. His infant body simply couldn't handle the strain. Even the smallest flicker of Ki felt like trying to channel a supernova through a drinking straw. The Gate of Babylon was equally constrained; he could sense its infinite contents, a shimmering golden realm in his soul, but to manifest even a simple Noble Phantasm would likely tear his tiny body apart.
His priority, therefore, became control and subtle development.
He focused first on his mind. The speed at which his infant brain processed information was staggering. He absorbed languages (English, French, Latin, Mandarin, German, Spanish – all learned before he was four), sciences (physics, chemistry, biology, computer science – becoming fluent in the underlying principles), history, philosophy, and martial arts theory with frightening efficiency. He understood the nuances of the Marvel and DC universes from his past life, now seeing them merge around him, analyzing potential threats and allies.
Alfred Pennyworth, the family's venerable butler, became Alex's unwitting academic assistant. "Master Alex, are you certain you wish to read this treatise on quantum mechanics at three years of age?" Alfred would ask with a raised eyebrow, already accustomed to the bizarre requests.
"Knowledge is power, Alfred," Alex would reply, his voice surprisingly deep and articulate for his age, even with a slight lisp. "And understanding the nature of reality is the first step to influencing it."
Alfred merely sighed, a fond, long-suffering sound, and fetched the requested tome. He suspected Master Alex was simply a genius, a prodigy beyond compare. He had no idea he was dealing with a reincarnated cosmic warrior.
The Subtle Art of Ki Manipulation
Beyond academics, Alex was also quietly experimenting with his Saiyan heritage. He couldn't unleash energy blasts or transform, but he could feel the Ki—the life energy—within him. It was a faint, warm hum, a constant undercurrent that resonated with his Ancient Primordial Saiyan blood.
He began with the most basic form of control: Ki sensing. It started subtly. He could feel the emotions of those around him—the bustling energy of the servants, the calm affection of Alfred, the worried love of his parents, and the pure, unadulterated childish joy of Bruce. This emotional sensitivity quickly evolved. By four years old, he could not only sense emotions but also the unique energy signatures of living beings. He could 'see' the world not just with his emerald eyes, but with his Ki.
He'd lay in his bed at night, long after Bruce had fallen asleep, and extend his senses. He could feel Alfred moving quietly downstairs, Martha's restless sleep, Thomas's weary presence in his study. He could even sense the faint, distant 'wrongness' of Gotham—the chaotic, desperate energies of criminals, the focused rage of patrolling police officers, the simmering fear of the populace. It was a cacophony that sometimes overwhelmed him, forcing him to learn mental barriers, an early form of Ki suppression.
His physical development also saw minor, almost imperceptible enhancements. He was stronger than a child his age should be, more agile, and possessed a preternatural awareness of his surroundings. He once caught a falling antique vase with lightning reflexes that would have made a seasoned acrobat proud, then quickly feigned clumsiness, letting it gently hit the floor to avoid suspicion. Martha nearly fainted, not realizing her son had deftly prevented a costly disaster.
These were mere whispers of his true power, but they were crucial steps. He was building his foundation, carefully, patiently, knowing that reckless displays would only invite unwanted attention or, worse, prematurely destroy his developing body.
The Gate's Whisper and Gotham's Growl
The Gate of Babylon was a more complex beast. It was an infinite repository of creation, and while Alex couldn't manifest its contents, he could perceive them. In his mind's eye, it was a vast, golden dimension, always there, always shimmering. He could 'scroll' through its contents conceptually, a staggering mental exercise that often left his young brain exhausted.
He saw familiar Noble Phantasms: Ea, the Sword of Rupture; Excalibur, the Sword of Promised Victory; Gae Bolg, the Spear of Mortal Kill; the countless conceptual weapons from history and myth. But he also saw things far beyond: cosmic artifacts from the Marvel universe like the Cosmic Cube, the Infinity Gauntlet (though not with the stones embedded, only the gauntlet itself, as per the nature of Noble Phantasms as items rather than raw universal concepts), even fragments of the Anti-Life Equation manifested as an object, and countless Lantern Rings from DC, including a prototype White Lantern Ring. He saw artifacts from alien races, future technologies, magical tomes, and divine weapons from pantheons across untold realities.
It was too much. The sheer conceptual weight of it was overwhelming. He quickly learned to limit his mental exploration, focusing only when needed. He realized that the Gate's true power wasn't just in its contents, but in its ability to analyze and replicate, or rather, to pull the true original of whatever he needed. If he needed a specific chemical compound, the Gate could provide it. If he needed a piece of information, a scroll containing ancient knowledge, the Gate had it.
But the physical manifestation was the bottleneck. He had to wait.
Gotham, meanwhile, continued to be Gotham. Even from the insulated luxury of Wayne Manor, Alex felt its oppressive weight. The city was a character unto itself, dark and brooding, a canvas for both heroism and despair. He sensed the underlying currents of corruption, the burgeoning criminal empires, the fear that permeated the air like smog.
He knew the statistics from his past life: Gotham had the highest crime rate in the country. The police were often outmatched, the justice system clogged. And looming, ever closer, was that night.
The Brother and The Plan
Bruce was a typical, boisterous, and curious child. He loved to explore, to mimic Alfred, and to play with his mother. He looked up to Alex, admiring his older (by a few minutes) twin's incredible intelligence and calm demeanor.
"Alex, look!" Bruce would shout, showing off a crayon drawing of a smiling bat.
"Very good, Bruce," Alex would say, a genuine smile gracing his lips. He loved Bruce. He loved his parents. This family was more than just a means to an end; they were his. And that made protecting them all the more vital.
He began subtly influencing Bruce, guiding his interests without being obvious. He'd encourage Bruce's fascination with puzzles and mysteries, subtly introducing him to detective novels, teaching him observational skills during their walks in the manor gardens. He'd talk about justice, about responsibility, about the importance of protecting those who couldn't protect themselves. He saw the spark in Bruce's eyes, the inherent sense of right and wrong that would one day define him.
His most critical mission, however, was preventing the alley. He knew the exact date, the general time, and the location. He also knew that simply refusing to go would be difficult. Thomas Wayne was a man of routine, and Martha loved the opera. It was a tradition. Changing it would require extreme foresight and subtle manipulation.
His initial thought was a simple one: manifest a force field around them. But the Gate was still beyond him. 'What about a weapon? A non-lethal deterrent?' Again, physical manifestation was the issue.
He needed a way to subtly redirect his parents' decision, or to prepare for the eventuality without revealing his hand. He considered planting evidence of a security threat at the theater, or perhaps faking an illness. But he quickly dismissed these. Thomas Wayne, despite his good intentions, was stubborn. Martha, loving and kind, might simply choose another night. The universe, in its own way, seemed to have a script it wanted to follow.
'I can't change their minds without showing my hand,' Alex concluded one night, lying awake at four years old, the weight of the future pressing down on him. 'I have to be there. I have to be ready. I have to subtly alter the outcome.'
He began researching Gotham's underworld with a quiet intensity. He read every newspaper, every crime report Alfred allowed him access to. He analyzed known criminal patterns, gang territories, the psychology of street-level thugs. He needed to predict who would be there, how they would act, and what would be the most effective, non-lethal countermeasure he could deploy in his still-developing body.
He focused on enhancing his physical abilities through covert training. When Alfred thought he was napping, Alex was in his room, meticulously performing bodyweight exercises, stretching, and practicing rudimentary martial arts forms he'd mentally downloaded from the Gate of Babylon. He wasn't strong enough to throw a punch yet, but he was building flexibility, reflexes, and muscle memory. He practiced his Ki sensing, honing it to a razor's edge, creating mental 'alarms' for specific energy signatures.
The emerald in his eyes seemed to glow a little brighter each day, a testament to the surging potential within. He was a child, but his will was that of a cosmic warrior. He was Alex Wayne, son of Gotham, brother to its future protector, and harbinger of a new era of power.