The Watchtower's main conference room, usually a bastion of grim strategic planning, now buzzed with the nervous energy of a dozen bewildered academics. They were a motley crew: a bespectacled xenolinguist frantically flipping through an ancient Sumerian text, a meta-physicist adjusting his thick glasses while muttering about "quantum anomalies," and a theoretical physicist staring blankly at a whiteboard covered in equations that looked like a drunken spider's web. All of them had been summoned by Batman to analyze Oliver Omni, who was currently attempting to teach The Flash how to juggle cosmic dust bunnies he'd conjured out of thin air.
"And then you go… WHOOSH! Like this!" Oliver Omni chirped, demonstrating with effortless grace. The dust bunnies, shimmering with impossible colors, danced in the air before resolving into tiny, perfect replicas of the Bat-Signal.
The Flash, for his part, was sweating. "Okay, whoosh… wait, no! They're turning into tiny Batarangs! My hands! They're going to get pierced!"
Batman, perched in his usual brooding corner, looked like he was slowly calcifying into stone. He watched the scene with an intensity that could melt steel, his mind no doubt cycling through a thousand worst-case scenarios involving sentient dust bunnies and universal collapse. Wonder Woman, ever the picture of serene patience, observed with a gentle smile, while Green Lantern just nursed a space-coffee, a look of profound resignation on his face.
"The child's reality-bending capabilities are… unprecedented," the meta-physicist stammered, adjusting his tie. It seems as though his consciousness directly dictates causality."
"He's a living conceptual anchor," the xenolinguist added, stroking his beard. "His will is creation. His whim, annihilation. A true deus ex machina personified."
He's a goddamn seven-year-old with a bucket list, I thought, exasperated. And he just wants a selfie with Batman.
Suddenly, a loud, obnoxious POP! echoed through the room. The air shimmered, distorting like a funhouse mirror, and two figures materialized with a flourish.
One was small, impish, and clad in a purple suit with an impossibly large bowler hat. His grin stretched from ear to ear, a mischievous glint in his cartoonishly large eyes. This was Mr. Mxyzptlk, the fifth-dimensional imp, a being of immense, reality-warping power, whose only weakness was being tricked into saying his name backwards.
The other was even smaller, almost a miniature version of Batman himself, complete with a tiny cowl, cape, and utility belt. His eyes, however, held a fanatic devotion and a mischievous spark. This was Batmite, Batman's self-proclaimed biggest fan from the fifth dimension, equally powerful and equally prone to causing chaos in his misguided attempts to "help" Batman.
"Greetings, mortals!" Mr. Mxyzptlk declared, striking a dramatic pose. "And a special hello to my dear, old friend, Superman! Ready for some fun?"
"Oh, goody! It's the dynamic duo of disaster!" The Flash groaned, dropping the now actual Batarang-shaped dust bunnies. "Just what we needed."
Batman's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "Mxyzptlk. Batmite. What do you want?" His voice was a low growl, laced with pure, unadulterated annoyance.
"Why, nothing much, Dark Knight!" Batmite squeaked, zipping around Batman's head like an annoying fly. "Just here to prove that I, Batmite, am your greatest fan! And that with my help, you and Superman can overcome any challenge! Starting with… this!"
With a snap of Batmite's fingers, the entire Watchtower conference room shifted. The sterile, futuristic walls rippled like water, transforming into brightly colored, hand-drawn backdrops. The sleek table became a giant, wobbling jelly mold. Even the Justice League members themselves took on a subtly more cartoony appearance, their lines bolder, their expressions more exaggerated.
Oh no. Oh no, no, no. We're in a cartoon dimension. This is Mxyzptlk and Batmite's playground. They're unbeatable here.
"Indeed, little Bat-fan!" Mxyzptlk boomed, levitating above the jelly table. "We've cooked up a challenge just for you, Superman! And for your brooding friend, the Bat-Man! A challenge designed to prove… that even your combined might is no match for fifth-dimensional hijinks!"
Before Mxyzptlk could finish his grand pronouncement, Oliver Omni, who had been quietly observing the new arrivals with wide-eyed fascination, suddenly pointed at Batmite.
"Hey! You're wearing a Batman costume! Are you Batman's kid?" Oliver Omni asked, his voice full of genuine curiosity.
Batmite, utterly charmed by the innocent question, puffed out his chest. "Why, yes, young one! In a way! I am Batmite! Batman's greatest admirer! And his most loyal sidekick!"
"Wow! You're so cool!" Oliver Omni beamed. "Can you do the Batarang spin? Like, the one where it goes zooooooom and then comes back?" He mimed a boomerang motion with his hand.
Batmite, completely distracted by the adoration, immediately obliged. "Why, of course, noble child! Behold! The Bat-spin!" With a theatrical flourish, he conjured a ridiculously oversized, cartoonish Batarang and sent it spinning around the room, making exaggerated whoosh noises.
While Batmite was showing off, Mr. Mxyzptlk, momentarily overshadowed, cleared his throat loudly. "Ahem! As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted by… that. Our challenge! We have created a series of… delightful scenarios! Each one designed to test your mettle, Superman! And your mind, Batman! All leading to a grand finale where you will face… the ultimate cartoon villain!"
Superman, looking utterly exasperated by the whole situation, rubbed his temples. "Mxyzptlk, can't you just… not? Metropolis is still recovering from the last incident. We don't need another reality-bending mess."
"But this is fun, Soupie!" Mxyzptlk giggled, then snapped his fingers. The jelly table transformed into a giant, sugary cake. "Your first challenge! The Great Cake Chase! You must eat this entire cake before it… eats you!"
The cake, a monstrous confection of bright pink and purple frosting, suddenly sprouted cartoonish teeth and began to wobble ominously.
Batman, ever the pragmatist, immediately began to analyze. "This is a diversion. A distraction. What's his true objective? He wants to lure us into a trap. We need to focus."
"But it's a cake, Batman!" The Flash exclaimed. "A giant, sentient cake! This is classic Mxyzptlk!"
Oliver Omni, however, had an idea. He looked at the giant cake, then at Mr. Mxyzptlk, and then at Batmite, who was still delighting Oliver with Batarang tricks.
"Hey, Mr. Mxyzptlk!" Oliver Omni called out, his voice sweet and innocent. "Can you make the cake taste like… all the flavors at once? Like, every single yummy flavor in the whole wide world?"
Mr. Mxyzptlk paused, intrigued by the request. His ego, always his greatest weakness, was flattered. "All the flavors, you say? A magnificent idea, young mortal! Observe, Superman, the limitless power of the fifth dimension!" With a grand wave of his hand, he infused the cake with every imaginable flavor, a chaotic explosion of taste that made the cake shimmer with an impossible spectrum of hues.
The moment the cake was fully infused, Oliver Omni clapped his hands. "Wow! That's super cool! Now, can you make it… taste like… your name backwards?"
Mr. Mxyzptlk froze. His eyes, usually dancing with mischief, widened in dawning horror. The color drained from his cartoonish face. The silence that followed was so profound, you could hear the distant plink of a tiny Batarang hitting the ground.
"Uh oh," Batmite squeaked, finally realizing what was happening.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—!" Mxyzptlk shrieked, his form beginning to shimmer and distort. His carefully crafted cartoon reality rippled, then violently snapped back to the Watchtower's normal, sterile conference room. The academics, who had been frozen in various states of terror and bewilderment, suddenly unfroze, all of them looking utterly confused.
With a final, desperate POP!, Mr. Mxyzptlk vanished, banished back to the Fifth Dimension.
Batmite, however, was still there, clinging to the ceiling, eyes wide. "He… he tricked Mxy… with a trick question… like a grown-up! A brilliant grown-up!" He looked at Oliver Omni with a new level of awe and something akin to hero-worship.
Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, and Green Lantern stared at Oliver Omni, who was now just innocently admiring his clean hands.
"What… what just happened?" Superman asked, completely flummoxed.
"He just… tricked Mxyzptlk into saying his name backwards," Green Lantern stammered, his ring finally glowing steadily again, albeit with a faint, bewildered hum. "Without even trying. Without even knowing what he was doing."
Batman, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, looked genuinely speechless. His mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes, though still intense, held a flicker of something dangerously close to… astonishment.
"He weaponized naiveté," Batman finally managed to say, his voice a low, strangled whisper. "He asked a question that, to Mxyzptlk, was an innocent display of his own power. But to Oliver Omni, it was simply curiosity. And it was enough to exploit Mxyzptlk's inherent flaw."
Nailed it, Bruce! I cheered internally. He's a cosmic accident, a glitch in the Matrix that somehow produces perfect solutions without conscious thought.
The Flash burst out laughing, a genuine, booming laugh that cut through the lingering tension. "You just got played, Mxyzptlk! By a seven-year-old! Oh, man, I wish I had a video of that!" He zipped over to Oliver Omni, ruffling his hair. "Kid, you are something else! You just saved us a whole lot of headache!"
Batmite, still clinging to the ceiling, suddenly had a new hero. He detached himself and floated down, his tiny eyes gleaming with adoration. "He's… he's a genius! A true master of tactics! He's even smarter than Batman when he's not trying! I have found my new favorite hero!"
Batman stared at Batmite, then at Oliver Omni, then at the spot where Mxyzptlk had been. The concept of being outsmarted by a child, and then having his greatest fan switch allegiances to said child, was clearly pushing him to the brink of an existential crisis.
"I am not his favorite hero," Batman stated flatly, as if trying to reassert the natural order of the universe.
"Oh, but you are, Caped Crusader!" Batmite squeaked, zipping back and forth between Oliver Omni and Batman. "But young Oliver Omni here… he has a certain je ne sais quoi! A spontaneous brilliance! He's a natural! Perhaps… a new sidekick is in order?"
Please no, I thought, a fresh wave of dread washing over me. We already have enough chaos. We don't need a fifth-dimensional imp as a sidekick.
"No," Batman said, his voice laced with venom. "Absolutely not. He is not a sidekick. He is an unknown. And he is certainly not my sidekick."
"He is simply a child with extraordinary abilities," Wonder Woman interjected, her voice calm and soothing. She gave Oliver Omni a warm, approving smile. "You did well, little one. You used your wit to solve a great problem."
Oliver Omni, completely oblivious to the intricate dynamics at play, beamed with pride. "I did! And I didn't even say his name backwards! I just asked him to make the cake taste like it! That was Hart's idea, kinda!"
It was not my idea! I was too busy panicking! I protested internally.
Batman, however, heard the "Hart's idea, kinda" part. His white eyes narrowed slightly, sweeping the empty space beside Oliver Omni. The analytical mind was already turning, trying to process this new layer of complexity. An unseen, conscious entity influencing the all-powerful child. The implications were staggering.
"The unseen presence," Batman murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "He's aware of it. And it's influencing him. We need to establish communication. Directly."
"Oh, Hart talks a lot!" Oliver Omni chirped, taking a cosmic dust bunny and popping it into his mouth. "He's super grumpy and always worried! But he's also really nice sometimes! He used to draw me pictures of superheroes when I was little!"
The academics, who had slowly come out of their stupor, began scribbling frantically in their notebooks. A conceptual anchor. Weaponized naiveté. An unseen, influencing consciousness. This was a goldmine of unprecedented phenomena.
Superman, meanwhile, walked over to Oliver Omni and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Oliver Omni, that was truly remarkable. But… you need to understand that this power you have… it can't be used lightly. Not even for fun. When you change things, there are… ripple effects. Consequences."
Oliver Omni tilted his head, his silver eyes wide and innocent. "But the bad guys are happy now! And Superman didn't die! That's good, right?"
Superman sighed, a deep, weary sound. "It is good, Oliver. Very good. But not every problem can be solved by turning things into a carnival. Sometimes, things need to be… fixed properly."
"I can fix anything!" Oliver Omni declared, puffing out his chest.
"That's what worries us," Batman muttered under his breath.
The Flash, ever the optimist, tried to lighten the mood. "Hey, at least he didn't turn Luthor into a giant rubber ducky! Though… now that I think about it…"
Green Lantern just shook his head. "I'm going to need a bigger space-coffee."
As the Justice League debated the nuances of cosmic childcare and the terrifying implications of Oliver Omni's powers, I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of relief and renewed despair. We had accidentally defeated two of the most powerful reality-warpers in the DC Universe, purely by Oliver Omni's innocent, unthinking whim. And now, I was firmly on Batman's radar as an "unseen, influencing presence." My anonymity was officially gone.
This is fine, I thought, trying to reassure myself. Everything is totally fine. Just a normal day in the life of a disembodied consciousness trapped in a seven-year-old god. Nothing to worry about.