Eiling didn't show up to S.T.A.R. at all that day.
As gratifying as his absence was, it could only be an omen of far more sinister plans to come. And when Barry texted Cisco and the others with the news about the empty lab, their fears were confirmed.
It took all day to identify the precise mix of drugs in the sample Caitlin had taken from the bunker. Even with the combined intellect of everyone still working at S.T.A.R. Labs, including Harrison, the formula was too complex to quickly unravel.
Once the correct ingredients were identified, they turned all their efforts to extrapolating a cure. Caitlin even recruited Albert to come help them—as a chemist at Mercury Labs, he had vital expertise and understood the urgency of the situation.
They were still working when the news broke about the escape from Iron Heights. The Rogues stared wide-eyed at the TV as the reporter announced that the metahumans were the only missing prisoners.
Cisco stepped away from the workstation and called Barry.
"It's Eiling," they both said the moment Barry picked up, skipping any greetings.
"Have you found a cure yet?" Barry asked.
"We're working on it. And we found something out about the drugs—I didn't expect it to be an important detail until just now, but we ran some simulations, and, Barry, the chemicals take twelve hours to work."
"You mean before the metas are…"
"Completely brainwashed, yeah. Remember what Eiling said? He told us that we were going to join him before long. Barry, I think he's going to try to brainwash us next."
"He's going to use the metahuman army he's created to try capturing us," Barry said, horrified.
"And we have twelve hours to prepare."
Barry thought for a moment, the only sound the slight static of the phone. The numbers didn't look good—ten Rogues against twenty-six of Eiling's brainwashed drones, the eighteen he'd already kidnapped plus the eight metas the Rogues had defeated. "Okay. You guys keep trying to find a cure. I'll talk to Leonard, and we'll see about getting more allies." They were going to need all the help they could get.
"Sure. Keep us posted if there's any news."
"You too." Barry hung up.
Cisco returned to the workstation. As they continued to test compounds, he explained what was going on. They all grimaced at the thought of defending Central City from over two dozen metas under Eiling's control.
"We better work faster," Harrison muttered.
"So, tell me how you really feel," Barry said drily after Leonard's immediate, outraged reaction was over.
Leonard slowly lowered his gun, staring at the ice now coating the wall of the old precinct. "Peachy."
"We have under twelve hours, and Eiling will have double the numbers we do."
Leonard squinted at Barry. There was a catch in the kid's voice that made it sound like he had an idea. "So what are we going to do?"
Despite the circumstances, a smile flickered across Barry's face.
"At some point they're going to stop letting us just bully our way onto TV," Leonard muttered to Barry.
"But for now, they are, so just be grateful," Barry told him.
They'd talked their way into the KSFZ broadcast station—truthfully, all they really had to do was show up and ask for an emergency broadcast. Their reputation had done the rest.
The cameraman counted down and pointed at them to signify that they were live.
Barry spoke first. "We know it's late, Central City—"
"But wake up," Leonard interrupted. "Because we've got a problem on our hands."
"I'm sure some of you have seen General Wade Eiling around town lately," Barry said. He was in his Flash persona, unwavering and more confident than he ever was without the mask. "It's not that we enjoy making unsubstantiated accusations, but—"
Leonard cut him off again. "But unless we're very much mistaken, our dear friend the general has an army of brainwashed metas that he intends to set upon the city like a pack of dogs under his control. And they will tear us apart unless—"
"Cold!" Barry chastised. "Don't be pessimistic, there are probably kids watching." He turned back to the camera and shook his head. "Look, despite what my overly dramatic friend here says, we'll be fine. We're just asking for a little extra backup. If there are any metahumans out there…" Leonard cleared his throat and Barry glanced at him and his gun before continuing, "Or normal humans with especially clever tech, come help us out for a day."
"This doesn't make you a part of the Rogues," Leonard added. "No obligations other than to show up and help—we won't even ask your name. And there's a reward."
"How did I forget the reward?" Barry asked. "$500 cash, funded by S.T.A.R. Labs, just for helping out and ensuring no casualties. If that sounds like a good deal, meet us in ten hours at the new precinct." They had approximately eleven hours left. Hopefully, the hour of leeway would be enough time for them to prepare.
Ten hours later, the Rogues had gained five allies. It wasn't especially comforting to know they'd still be outnumbered by eleven, but it was far better than before.
The five newcomers, wearing various, colorful disguises, introduced themselves as Peek-a-Boo, Girder, Double Down, the Bug-Eyed Bandit, and the Trickster.
(And if the Trickster bore a certain resemblance to the mayor, well, nobody was about to point that out.)
Citizen Cold explained the situation in a bit more detail, then Killer Frost, dressed up in blue leather and a blonde wig, stepped forward.
"The drug Eiling used to brainwash our fellow metahumans also blocks complex thinking. They'll follow orders, and they'll be able to fight—they'll be able to fight longer, past the normal pain threshold of even a metahuman. What they cannot do is any sort of higher reasoning. That includes collaboration."
"Meaning…" Peek-a-Boo prompted.
"Meaning they'll all be fighting as individuals, unaware of their allies."
"Which gives us an advantage," Cold added. "We're able to work effectively together. So long as we watch each other's backs, we'll have the upper hand. The Rogues have had some practice with that already, and I need all of you," he nodded at the newcomers, "to trust us, and each other."
"If we can all do that," Flash inserted, "we're sure to win."
The others just seemed nervous, unmoved by his stalwart optimism. They spread out across the street and waited.
Eiling's army arrived at precisely noon, and they were a sight to behold. The streets had been cordoned off, of course, but that didn't stop news helicopters from swooping overhead and residents of nearby buildings sticking phones through curtains.
Twenty-five strong, they all marched in perfect unison. The Rogues readied themselves. They'd split into little teams based on who would work well together, groups of two or three, all of them anxious to start the fight.
Eiling's army halted at the opposite end of the street from the Rogues. There was exactly a second of silence, whether hesitation or simply preparation.
And then both sides charged.
Firestorm and Killer Frost fought together, blasting metas with alternating fire and ice, always carefully tailored to do no lasting damage. They glimpsed two metas on fire at the back of the enemy army, and without needing to discuss it, Firestorm gave Frost a short ride there.
The two flaming metas were Tokamak, predictably enough, and a woman exuding green fire from every part of her body. Firestorm left Frost on the ground with the green woman, trusting she could hold her own, and baited Tokamak into the air.
They battled as they had before, each dodging fireballs while trying to land blasts of their own. It was a complex task, to perform aerobic maneuvers while still aiming and releasing fireballs.
As they'd done last time they fought Tokamak, the two halves of Firestorm split the tasks. Hartley devoted himself to analyzing trajectories and flight paths, using their shared left hand to adjust course when necessary. Ronnie, meanwhile, concentrated on offensive maneuvers, timing fireball launches with their right hand to hit Tokamak.
They'd overpowered Tokamak that way before, when he'd still had full control of his mental faculties, so it was no surprise when a brainwashed Tokamak fell out of the sky after only a couple of minutes. Firestorm dove after him, ensuring his fall would be hard enough only to knock him unconscious, and rejoined Killer Frost.
After Firestorm had flown off, Frost had instantly engaged in battle with the green flame woman. She was sure Vibe would have thought up a cleverer name, but she decided just to refer to her as Green Flame. Hopefully the Arrow wouldn't mind sharing an adjective.
Frost was safe from the flames, but she made sure to orient herself so that Flame was facing away from the rest of the battling metas. She sent a wide spray of ice at the other woman, just wanting to test the reaction.
Flame responded with an inferno of fire ten times as powerful as the ice, and Frost was glad she'd ensured they were facing away from the other Rogues. She threw up her hands, forming a wall of ice in front of her. The fire melted it down to water within moments.
Frost focused, and an igloo formed around Flame. It started to melt as well, but it gave her enough time to form a large ball of ice above the igloo, letting it expand so it wouldn't melt on contact with Green Flame's burning head.
Flame must have absolutely exploded into fire, because the igloo suddenly half-shattered, half-melted, some of the ice turning almost immediately to steam. Frost released the ball of ice from her hold and watched it fall. It melted as it went, but enough of the water stayed liquid long enough that it doused the flames completely. Flame started literally steaming, but Firestorm contributed a hit from behind, knocking her out.
Killer Frost and Firestorm exchanged a smile and turned just in time to see all the melted ice rising up and advancing threateningly toward them, courtesy of some water meta nearby.
Firestorm and Killer Frost raised their hands and fired.
Nearby, Plastique and Girder were fighting back to back, against two metas that seemed tailor-made to their weaknesses. Plastique's current opponent just absorbed the energy from her bombs—in fact, he seemed to grow larger and more powerful each time one went off. And Girder might be able to turn to metal, but it didn't help if his enemy kept turning to sand before his punches could land.
"Let's switch!" Plastique shouted over the noises of battle around them.
"Yeah," Girder agreed.
They spun 180 degrees around each other. Plastique immediately seized a handful of the particles from the sand demon she was now facing. When she released them, the bits of sand went skittering back to rejoin their owner before exploding, leaving a large chunk of Sand Demon's chest missing. He looked startled and attempted a punch, his arm dissolving into sand as he did. Plastique winced at the impact, but stuck her hand into the midst of his arm and smirked as it exploded.
Behind her, Girder taunted the huge man until he tried to hit him, pounding down with both fists. Girder turned to metal and smirked when the giant atom smasher cried out in pain. Girder wasn't the smartest guy, but Atom Smasher might have had him beat, as he continued to try the same thing over and over, with the same results. He kinda felt bad for the guy—he was brainwashed, after all. Still, Atom Smasher, due to the pain and the lack of energy sources available to absorb, slowly shrank. Once his head was within reach, Girder landed a single solid blow and sent Atom Smasher out for the count.
He turned just in time to see a particularly large explosion send Sand Demon's cells blasting apart. The sand slowly reformed into a human shape, which remained unmoving on the ground.
Plastique high-fived Girder, who, when he started to glow purple, changed from human to metal. They'd discovered through a frantic, panicked test that his shape shifting disrupted her bomb making, leaving him unaffected by her powers. Plastique had been very relieved to find someone she could safely touch.
She looked less relieved when that someone was rapidly dragged backwards by seemingly nothing. A glance around informed her that it wasn't just him—anything metal nearby was moving toward one meta. That included cars, the helicopters above, and even some of the buildings were starting to groan and shift.
Metallica stood at the center of it all, eyes unfocused. She tossed a large chunk of metal at the nearest Rogue, Trickster.
Doctor Alchemy threw himself in front of Trickster and made desperate guesses as to the composition of the metal. There was a limited number of magnetic elements and alloys—iron, steel, cobalt, nickel—
Nickel was the right material. The piece of metal was on the verge of knocking him down, but at the last moment Alchemy managed to turn it to oxygen. He ducked a second projectile and then waited until Metallica started gathering metal around herself again.
Alchemy focused. It was difficult to change only a specific amount of air into the right shape, and if he got it wrong, everyone would suffocate. He carefully transformed some of the air into iron, and it flew toward Metallica. The misshapen lump of metal was too heavy for her to stop it, and it struck her in the head, knocking her out.
Trickster tapped Alchemy on the shoulder, holding his boots in his other hand. "I need more fuel." The boots ran on a very specific, very rare chemical, which had made using or selling them impractical. But with a literal alchemist, it was easy to fill up, and the boots, when filled, could fly.
Alchemy put his hand over the fuel tank to seal it off from the outside environment. Transmuting a specific shape was far easier in an enclosed space. Within moments, the fuel was refilled.
Trickster nodded his thanks and pulled the boots back on. He launched into the air and fired contained energy pulses at the enemy metas from above with a device attached to his wrist.
He grinned to himself when he hit one of the Weather Wizards. Being mayor was great and all, but helping the city more directly felt wonderful. And this was fun.
On the other side of the street, Rainbow Raider and Peek-a-Boo were making the most of their alliance. Peek-a-Boo jumped back and forth across the battlefield with Rainbow in tow, always positioning them so he could make eye contact with their opponents. They were quickly becoming experts at momentarily incapacitating metas and then teleporting away, leaving the actual knockout blows to their allies.
"Over there," Rainbow said, pointing to where Top was literally stirring up trouble for Plastique. Peek-a-Boo zapped him over, where he repeated the same strategy he'd used last time he faced Top.
The moment Top was sinking to the ground, overcome with the effects of nausea, a fist came out of nowhere and hit Rainbow across the face, sending him sprawling.
Peek-a-Boo teleported to his side. "You okay? I would have covered you, but I didn't think there was anyone around…" She looked up and trailed off, noticing that there was, in fact, nobody around. Rather, there was a meta whose limbs were stretched like putty, fighting three Rogues at once, extending twenty feet in all directions.
"Stay here," Peek-a-Boo said to Rainbow. "I'll be right back."
She jumped to the end of the elongated man's right arm and grabbed his hand just before it could hit Alchemy. Hoping her guess was right and she wouldn't just transport all of Elongated Man along with his arm, she teleported to his left elbow, ducked underneath his left arm, and then jumped to his right leg. There, she grabbed his foot and went through a similar process—tangling up his limbs like she was tying a very large bow.
It only took a minute before Elongated Man was trussed up like a turkey, and maybe she felt a little bad for him, but, hey, war was one half of the all's-fair thing.
She teleported back to Rainbow. "Who's next?"
Doctor Light was getting very irritated.
She was fighting in the shadows, which wouldn't have been so bad—she could illuminate them, after all—except that these shadows weren't cast by buildings or trees or people.
Well. They were cast by one person in particular. If 'cast' meant 'controlled', because that's absolutely what Mr. Shade over here was doing. He counteracted every blast of light with puddles of darkness. Light, in turn, erased his shadows with bright beams of light. They were locked in a standoff, their little corner of the street flickering faster than a strobe light.
All right. Light was done with this impasse. Her partner Vibe was off chasing down some shapeshifter, but she didn't need him to bring Shade down. Time to get creative.
She steeled herself and stopped all of her light manipulation in hopes of conserving power. The shadows crowded in around her eagerly. Their presence was suffocating, starting to physically choke her.
Light held on and projected an image as far away as she could put it. The image was of her with her hands raised, as though about to send a blast of light.
Predictably, the shadows skittered away from her and toward the false Light, giving her a moment to breathe. She set her stance and readied herself, watching Shade intently.
When the shadows reached the fake Doctor Light, the mirage disintegrated like cotton candy in water. Furious, Shade spun to locate the real Light.
The moment his eyes locked on her, Light released the largest surge of brightness yet, nearly blinding herself in the process. Shade's patches of darkness protected him somewhat from the full effect, but it was still enough for him to fall backwards, moaning in pain.
Doctor Light for the win.
Vibe glanced over his shoulder at the sound of someone approaching. He grinned when he saw it was Light.
"Hey! You take care of Shade?"
She nodded and continued to approach him.
A vision momentarily took over Vibe's mind, a rapid-fire sequence of faces, and his smile faded. He rolled his eyes.
"Come on. This is like the fifth time you've tried this."
'Light' pulled a knife and leapt at Vibe, who knocked her away with a vibe blast.
"I realize you're brainwashed and can't understand me, but dude, we beat you, like, a year and a half ago. You're old news."
Light's body warped, and Vibe found himself facing an exact replica of himself.
"Really? I've already met my evil doppelganger, and… well, actually, I think I prefer you. But he was a better conversationalist. Even if he kept going on about the whole 'we could be gods' thing."
As he spoke, Vibe carefully timed his attacks to push the meta—who could only be Everyman—into a corner. He'd kept running off and changing shape, making him hard to track down and stop.
Everyman flickered through faces and settled on Plastique, even though assuming her shape wouldn't give him her powers. His abilities were far better for running than fighting. Poor guy.
"You think that'll stop me?" Vibe scoffed. "That woman could kick my ass any day, so I don't feel at all bad about this." He finally landed a hit to Everyman's head, specifying the frequency to send him right to Dreamland.
Light—the real one this time-ran up to him. "There's another shapeshifter, and this guy isn't sticking to looking like people."
"Let's go."
At the center of the whole fight stood Loophole, one hand holding his supply of energy bars and the other opening loophole after loophole for his allies. He'd teamed up with Double Down and Bug-Eyed Bandit, both of whom were greatly enjoying how Loophole allowed them to attack enemies from behind while standing right in front of them.
At the moment, they were battling the plant meta Vibe had termed Vine a while back. Bandit had declared that they ought to be rivals, as she controlled bees and he controlled plants and they were natural enemies, and she'd dragged the others into her pledge of undying enmity.
To that end, Bandit sent her mechanical bees flying toward Vine, who with a wave of his hands summoned a patch of flowers. The bees diverted to the new target and flocked around the flowers.
"Bandit! Get your bugs under control!" Double Down snapped, tossing a couple of playing cards at Vine. He blocked them with vines moving of their own accord.
Bandit tapped frantically at the phone she was using to control the bees. "Sorry! It's a sensory override—base part of their programming. The bees are drawn to flowers."
Double and Loophole both stared at her in astonishment, forgetting about Vine for a moment.
She shrugged defensively. "I wanted them to be realistic! It's not like I was planning to fight people with them, especially a guy who can make flowers grow on command. I'll reprogram them. Buy me some time."
Double and Loophole shrugged at each other and returned their attention to Vine. He'd taken their temporary distraction to construct a thick wall of tightly woven thorns. Double flicked a card at the thicket to check its structure, and the card wedged itself only half an inch into the plant.
Vine retaliated by lashing out a barb bristling with thorns. They ducked out of the way, Double tossing cards with remarkable strength to force the thorns away from them.
Loophole opened a hole through to the other side of Vine's little shelter, and Double Down tossed a couple of cards through. He still wasn't used to the visual warping that happened whenever he looked through a loophole, though, so his accuracy was less than ideal. One of the cards grazed Vine's arm; the other wasn't even close.
Vine jumped at the contact and glared through the loophole. He sent a long sprig of poison ivy through the loophole the other way, forcing Loophole to close it quickly or allow the ivy to touch him.
The ivy, only a little way through the loophole, was immediately severed. The end left on their side, disconnected from Vine's powers, fell to the pavement.
"Got it!" Bandit said finally, her cloud of bees leaving the flowers alone.
"Still can't believe that was ever a problem," Double muttered.
Bandit shot him a glare and directed her robots toward Vine's protective thicket. They wormed their way through the network of thorns and made a beeline for the meta.
Loophole opened just a little gap to watch Bandit's bees as they swarmed Vine and stung him repeatedly, each bee releasing its little bit of sedative. Vine swatted some of them, both with his hands and by swinging vines and tree branches around, but ultimately succumbed to the small doses of drugs.
His plants broke down and disintegrated when he went unconscious. Bandit grinned smugly.
"Round one with my archnemesis goes to me," she said.
"Congratulations," Double said sarcastically, already tossing cards at the next meta.
Throughout the whole battle, the Flash and Citizen Cold moved through metas efficiently, watching each other's backs and often tossing pointed remarks at each other.
"Bet I'll take down more metas than you," Flash said in between punches.
"Not a chance, Flash." Cold blasted two metas in a row to prove his point.
"Really? Here." In a swirl of lightning, Flash dropped an enemy at Cold's feet and pressed something into his free hand. A glance down showed him that it was a cup of coffee.
"Really, Scarlet? You leave in the middle of a battle—" Obligatory pause to defend himself from a flying—was that a cat?—and also to take a sip of the coffee, which really wasn't bad. "—to go to Jitters?"
"Hey, this is easy. I need a fight with a speedster to keep me entertained." Flash ducked a blow from the nearest enemy and grimaced. "Actually, scratch that, other speedsters are mostly insane."
"Your Earth-2 friend seemed nice." Cold fired a shot over his shoulder without looking. "And for the record, I prefer iced coffee."
"She was the first. And why does that not surprise me?"
"Watch out."
Flash sped out of the way as Cold fired at one of the Weather Wizards, freezing the downpour of rain into bits of hail and startling the meta, who stumbled backwards. Flash was there to catch him and deliver the knockout blow.
"You're right, Flash." Cold took another sip of the coffee, which was now pleasantly cold due to its proximity to his gun, and smirked. "This is easy."
Flash surveyed the street. The only metas left standing were the Rogues and their allies.
"It's nice having a team."