"What's it like? Dying. I imagine you've got a unique perspective."
"You know, it's funny. You expect it to be terrifying, just panic and fear."
"What'd you feel?"
"I guess lonely?"
Central City, 2016
It was easier then she imagined, coming back to existence. Like flipping a light switch, one moment there was nothing, and the next she was falling to the ground, lungs pulling in air as much as was possible. Hands grabbed at dirt, curling around the lumps of earth like a child clinging to a safety blanket. A breeze brushed across her shoulders, pushing dark blonde hair into her vision.
Slowly, with the clumsiness of a newborn colt, she straightened, grabbing onto a nearby bench to pull herself to her feet. Legs shaking, she fell onto the bench and hunched over, focusing on her breathing and fighting to still the tremors in her hands.
It was difficult to say how long she stayed in that position, with the wind tugging at her hair and the moon shining down. Time lost meaning when one didn't exist, and despite existing now, it took time to become reacquainted with time. So she stayed in that little garden (Hers, it was her garden. Is. Used to be. Once.) Until lightning shivered and crackled across her skin, setting her nerves alight.
"Alora?" The voice was cautious and somehow familiar, like a faded photograph of an old friend that you hadn't seen in years but if you thought long and hard, could recall the faintest whisper of their voice.
This was a voice she hadn't heard in years, not since they had moved to Central City, (If moved was the right word to use.) but she could still remember that voice in some of her happiest memories.
"Papa." She breathed, looking up and through errant strands of hair toward the man that hovered just out of reach.
Red lightning crackled and she was wrapped up in his tight embrace, arms instinctively curling around his waist, which was wider then she remembered it being.
"Oh, little runner. It's alright, I'm here."
"What happened, Papa. How did the plan fail so badly?" Pulling back just enough to frown up at the man, she watched the familiar emotions flicker across his unfamiliar face.
"The Flash decided against saving his mother and instead elected to destroy the Time Sphere. When I retaliated, Eddie Thawne shot himself in the chest." Alora flinched and buried her head against his neck, eyes tightly shut. Eobard sighed, working an arm under her legs and lifting, lowering himself onto the bench and cradling his daughter close.
"I'm so sorry, little runner. I'm sorry you had to go through that alone."
"What happens now?" They had moved from the garden to the house, two solemn figures sitting at a dusty table in the dark.
"We can't stay here. We're aberrations now, little runner. The wraiths will be after us soon."
She nodded slowly, rolling her glass around in her hands. "They'll chase us throughout time. No matter where we go, they'll find us. We'd have to keep moving, constantly. I don't enjoy our speed that much."
"Hmm. Can't say I disagree." Lifting his own glass, he savored the last drops of alcohol. "Still, I have a few ideas about that."
"Oh?" A golden brow raised and for the first time that night, Alora looked like herself. "Do tell."
"Tell me Ally, what do you know about the Spear of Destiny?" Crossing his arms, he leaned forward, eyes shining with excitement.
A matching smile to his began to grow on the young woman's lips, teeth flashing in the dim light.
"Father dear, your genius knows no bounds."
"I know." Nothing short of smug, Eobard rose from the table. "Gather your essentials, we leave immediately."
Ally quickly sped around the house, collecting odds and ends from various rooms and shoving them in a well worn satchel. Pausing in the living room, she picked up a photograph from the mantle, wiping dust from the frame. Smiling down at the photo, she carefully removed it from the frame and tucked it into a sleeve in the main pocket. Finally, she skidded to a halt at the front door where Eobard was waiting for her, cowl now pulled over his head.
"Ready?" He asked, opening the door and leading them out the front entrance.
Reaching into her pocket, Ally withdrew a black ring and slid it onto her middle finger on her left hand, turning it so the lightning bolt pointed out.
"Born ready." Thrusting her hand out, a suit exploded from the ring and she phased into it at a run, chasing after blood red lightning and leaving black lightning trails in her wake.
Alright! Welcome everyone to my second Arrowverse fic, Mercury! This book will span the entirety of LOT season 2 and focus mainly on the Legion of Dooms side of events, so there will be a different perspective on all three of the men, especially Eobard. Because Eobard was kept in a cage for the duration of Flashpoint and then immediately sped off, I'm making it my head cannon that once the timeline was reset, Alora just, popped back into existence where she was erased from it, as she was alive when Barry was a kid but until Eobard was reentered into the sequence of events she didn't fully 'exist' per se. Which is why she was so dazed at the beginning, having been a conscience but not a body. (Does that make sense? Eh.) For future reference, at this point, She's 19.