DC: Zoom

Moonlight spilled through the window, casting faint ripples of light against the walls as Barry Allen lay curled under his blanket. The gentle hum of the fish tank filled the quiet room, its soft glow painting the night in a serene blue.

Then, the water shifted.

Tiny bubbles rose, stilled—then the entire surface lifted, droplets floating midair as if time had lost its grip. The hum of the tank wavered. A sharp crack rang through the house.

Barry's eyes snapped open.

Distant shouts. A crash. The floor trembled beneath him.

Throwing off his blanket, he bolted downstairs, feet skidding against the wooden steps.

A storm raged in the living room. Bolts of red and orange lightning sliced through the air, scorching patterns into the walls. Wind howled between the streaks, knocking over picture frames, sending books tumbling from shelves. In the chaos, a figure stood—wrapped in yellow, his presence unnatural, predatory.

Barry's mother, trapped at the center, her eyes wide with terror. His father, arms outstretched, voice raw.

"Run, Barry!"

A gust of wind roared through the space—then the world lurched.

Barry barely registered the pull before his surroundings twisted, stretched, and vanished. The air punched from his lungs as he stumbled, falling to his knees on a deserted street, blocks away from home. His breaths came quick, ragged. He whipped around, heart hammering.

Then a vortex of crackling blue energy tore open before him, its edges snapping like a live wire. Then—lightning.

A streak of electric blue stormed past, so fast it barely left an afterimage, a force so overwhelming that Barry could only stare, his body frozen, his mind racing.

Everything he knew had just changed. Forever.

Present: Secure Location in S.T.A.R. Labs

Barry paced the room, running a hand through his hair, his frustration boiling over. "What the hell was that? They have weapons that can slow me down now?" His voice was sharp, disbelief cutting through every word.

Cisco, ever the tension breaker, leaned back with a smirk, arms crossed. "Okay, but hear me out—Captain Cold." He pointed dramatically for effect. "You know, the guy with the freeze gun? Come on, it's perfect!" He shot Barry a grin, hoping to ease the tension, but the speedster wasn't biting.

Across the room, Harrison Wells casually rolled forward in his chair, unbothered. "Well, Barry, you're either going to have to outsmart them... or run faster." He paused, then tapped a key on his console. The large monitor flickered to life. "But we have bigger problems."

On the screen, a news reporter spoke with a grim expression.

"Authorities discovered multiple bodies inside a warehouse two nights ago. One suspect has been taken into custody but refuses to cooperate with police. Meanwhile, eyewitnesses report seeing a streak of blue lightning tearing through the area moments before authorities arrived."

Barry's brow furrowed. Blue lightning?

The report continued.

"In a separate incident, authorities discovered several burned bodies in an alleyway following reports of a shooting. Later that night, multiple children were found near the old underground train station, weak and malnourished after being held in cages. An anonymous tip led police to the scene, but details remain scarce."

Barry exhaled sharply, his eyes locked on the screen. His stomach churned. Something was off.

He turned to Wells, his voice uneasy. "Blue lightning... that's not me."

Wells studied him, his expression unreadable. "No. It's not."

Barry's eyes widened as a memory crashed into him. "Wait—blue lightning! When I was ten, the night my mom was killed... I saw blue lightning. What if—what if this guy is the key to proving my dad's innocence?"

Wells leaned forward, his tone sharp. "Barry, he doesn't seem friendly. Do not involve yourself. You're not ready."

Barry shook his head, determination burning in his eyes. "I can't ignore this. And besides, it's my job to stop him."

Wells sighed, but Barry had already made up his mind.

"Barry, if you're going to do this, rule number one—do not provoke him," Wells said, his tone firm. "We don't know what we're dealing with."

Cisco leaned forward, a grin tugging at his lips. "Speaking of which, how exactly are you planning on finding him?"

Barry glanced at him, determination in his eyes. "Well, my trusty team, of course. Do you have any ideas?"

Cisco paused, tapping his chin. "Well, I could track the energy you guys give off... but it's gonna take a while."

Barry's frustration simmered as he paced, the tension building. "Then we'll be waiting all night for him to show up."

The city hummed with life as Barry, now suited up, darted through Central City. His feet barely touched the ground as he weaved through traffic, the air crackling with energy in his wake. He kept his eyes sharp, searching.

Then, out of nowhere, a flash of blue lightning streaked past him, a blur of power.

Barry's heart raced as the blue lightning shot ahead, a streak of raw power and speed. Without thinking, he pushed harder, fighting to keep up. But the lightning was faster—too fast, pulling ahead like it was shifting through time itself.

Then, as if sensing Barry's pursuit, the lightning slowed, just enough for him to close the gap. Barry's feet pounded the pavement, adrenaline coursing through him, until the flash of blue stopped, dead in the middle of a scrapyard.

Standing there was a figure cloaked in darkness. His suit was a deep, obsidian black, molded tightly to his body, and it shimmered faintly under the moonlight. The chest bore a jagged lightning bolt, almost indistinguishable in the night, but its power pulsed with each crack of blue energy surrounding him.

His mask was sleek, covering his entire face except for the eyes—eyes that glowed an eerie, dark shade, hollow and lifeless, like there was nothing human behind them. The air around him crackled with electricity, the kind that sent a chill down Barry's spine.