The Hero A With a Million Faces

Before, During, and After the Beginning (Edited)

In the vast, echoing silence of nothingness, a space devoid of stars, color, and even time itself stood a teenage boy. He appeared to be of East Asian descent, most likely Japanese, though time had long blurred such details.

His hair was an unusual shade of green, a deep emerald that shimmered faintly against the void. Matching eyes stared calmly ahead. Clad in a pitch-black suit and polished dress shoes, a white lab coat hung loosely from his shoulders like the wings of some fallen scientist. Green headphones rested around his neck, silent.

With a soft click, he pulled a silver pocket watch from his coat pocket, the chain glinting faintly in the absence of light. He flipped it open, stared at the dial, then gave a small, dry chuckle.

"You'd think a Time Walker wouldn't be late," he muttered, more to the emptiness than to anyone else. "And yet... here I stand."

A voice, old yet warm, echoed from behind him. "Pardon me, my boy. I had to take care of some omniversal shenanigans."

The boy turned slowly and unfazed, to face the voice. Standing before him was a man who looked distinctly Western. Fair-skinned, with sharp grey eyes and jet-black hair streaked with silver at the temples, he carried the kind of weathered dignity that came not just from age, but from centuries of navigating the tides of time.

"You know, Paradox," the boy said, lifting one brow, "that doesn't excuse you. As a Time Walker, you can appear whenever, wherever. You have no excuse for being late."

Paradox smiled wryly, his eyes twinkling behind a pair of brass-rimmed goggles hanging at his neck. He wore a white lab coat like Walker's, though his was far more ornate as it was lined with brown and black utility pouches and accented by gold trim. Beneath it was a black turtleneck, a brown vest buttoned with gold, and a flowing white scarf. On one hand, he wore a heavy, metallic gauntlet and the other bore a fingerless glove. His trousers were black with brown knee pads, tucked into worn, travel-stained boots fastened with gold straps.

"Now, now," Paradox said playfully. "Where would the fun be if I wasn't a little unpredictable Walker?"

Walker rolled his eyes, a gesture honed over lifetimes of dealing with Paradox's theatrics. "You and your games. And what's with the gaudy getup? I liked your old outfit better. Then again... considering the war, your wardrobe choices are excused...for now."

Paradox gave an exaggerated sigh and returned the eye roll. "You're becoming more and more like your other selves. So tell me, why the rendezvous? Surely it's not for fashion critique. You've been around as long as I have, what could you possibly need my help with?"

Walker hesitated, then drew a long breath, the weight of centuries pressing against his shoulders.

"I've come across a universe," he said, his voice lower, more serious now. "It's... strange. An amalgamation of three distinct multiverses. One is my origin. The second is the Tennyson multiverse."

Paradox gave a low whistle.

"And the third?" he asked.

Walker's gaze hardened. "The one with Superman and Batman."

Paradox straightened slightly, now more intrigued than amused. "Ah. And let me guess, you need help talking to an Omnitrix wielder. Their kind never makes it simple. And considering how many time travelers their universe attracts... you'd prefer a more 'hands-on' approach?"

Walker nodded with a sigh. "Exactly. It's been over a millennium since I've had a meaningful conversation with someone who wasn't another Time Walker. I haven't even caught up with the Doctor on their latest escapade. And the last time I met one of my own variants, he jumped off a skyscraper."