Chapter 6: All the World's a Stage

Adam Hunt sat in his office, deep in thought. Outside the door, Constantine Drakon and a veritable army of bodyguards were guarding him. They were waiting.

A few days ago, Hunt had been ragging on one of his cronies in a parking garage. CNRI, more specifically attorney Laurel Lance, had taken up a class action lawsuit against him and was putting together a solid case. Hunt had demanded them to remind Grell who funded his reelection campaign, and that they'd better "take care" of Miss Lance.

And then he appeared.

Hunt had heard about the Hood. Everyone had. A crusading vigilante, a modern-day Robin Hood, who targeted the rich and aided the poor. Of course, not all the rich – just those whose means of making money were…a little illegal. And potentially harmful to several of the less fortunate.

The Hood had shot an arrow through the window of his car, and demanded he return all the money he had 'stolen'. Otherwise, there would be another arrow heading his way, and it would go straight through his chest.

Hunt hadn't listened, of course – instead he called the police and demanded they do something about this. It was obvious they were tempted to just let the Hood finish the job, but as karmic and justified the vigilante's actions were, he was still breaking the law and killing people. They posted a force around the perimeter of Hunt Multinational and waited. Hunt had taken his own measures as well, calling in Drakon and his personal army of thugs to keep watch over his office. There was no way in hell some wacko with a bow and some arrows was getting through them.

SMASH!

Hunt stood, thoughts lost.

Constantine Drakon laid on his office floor, an arrow in his heart, bleeding from the mouth. From the corner of his eye, he could see all his men. Dead.

"Adam Hunt." Hunt turned. The Hood. He wore a leather suit, mainly black with highlights of dark green, including a forest green hood. The lower half of his face was hidden beneath a black cloth wrapped around his head. The only thing that Hunt could see was his eyes, hard and cold as ice.

The Hood took aim. Hunt was frozen in fear.

"You have failed this city."

He fired.

"Stop!"

Detectives Joe West and Eddie Thawne, with the help of CCPD's CSIs, had managed to track down the location of the serial bank robber who left miniature natural disasters in his wake: Clyde Mardon, whose identity was confirmed after a sketch artist had managed to get an accurate description from a collection of witnesses during his latest heist. Joe was still in disbelief that one of the Mardon brothers had managed to survive the plane crash from the night of the Particle Accelerator Explosion.

They had ended up confronting Mardon at the same farmhouse where he and his brother had supposedly died, the site of the death of Joe's first partner, Fred Chyre. The detectives had faced off against Mardon, only to be forced to hide among various farm equipment after Mardon had shown off his strange ability to control the wedding. An ill-timed comment from Joe about Mardon's god complex had now led to their current predicament: a rapidly forming tornado, that would not only kill them but also potentially do great damage to Central City.

Joe and Eddie watched in horror as the tornado continued to ravage the building around them, growing more and more in size. Soon, the farmhouse was nothing more than debris. How were they supposed to stop this? How was anyone supposed to stop this?

Whoosh!

For a moment, they both caught a brief glimpse of him – a tall, slim man wearing a full body suit, black and red. Every part of his body was covered, from the top of his head to his legs. The lower half of his face was covered with a black fabric, hiding his mouth. On his chest was a red chest piece, etched with a yellow lightning bolt.

He ran. And he ran fast.

Lightning chased after him as he ran around the tornado, a scarlet blur.

He's real?

There had been rumors about a scarlet blur for months. The CCPD had been getting an influx of surrenders and arrests from all levels of crime, from the lowliest mugger to the head of the Santini Crime Family, all of them babbling about a man in vermillion and ebony who moved so fast the eyes could only perceive colors, not distinct shape. They had initially dismissed it as a vigilante, like Starling City's Hood, that had access to some sort of drug that caused hallucinations – naming him the Streak as an inside joke. But now…

The Streak chased the wind, and the tornado dissipated into nothing.

Clyde Mardon stood in the center, and staring in shock and disbelief as an urban legend undid his greatest feat.

Then, before Joe and Eddie could move, he collapsed, his throat cut.

Flames licked over the building. All around, fire fighters ran about with water and foam, trying to contain the inferno. Others were running into the building itself, trying to evacuate those few unfortunate souls stuck in the blaze. Skylights were shot into the sky, trying to catch sight of anyone that had managed to make it to the untouched windows.

BOOM!

Everyone jumped. A bomb?

No, the skylight saw, and they all gawked.

A girl was floating in the sky.

There had been whispers about such a girl for many moons. She appeared in the midst of disasters, like a guardian angel clothed in sapphire light. Now, everyone knew she was real.

The Girl in Blue was clothed in a tight, full length body suit of dark midnight cobalt, her lower half covered with a crimson skirt, flattering her shapely figure and moderately sized chest. A large, scarlet 'S' was emblazoned on the front, in the shape of a diamond shield. Flaring out behind her was an azure cloak, acting almost like a cape. Her face was hidden beneath the hood of the cloak, and her mouth and the front of her nose covered by an ebony veil. If one looked closely, they could a few stray locks of blonde hair sticking out, falling on her shoulders.

They all froze as they took in her appearance, and were broken out of their stupor when she unexpectedly dived, bursting into the fiery building. A few seconds later, everyone that had once been inside the construction was now standing on the road, in front of one of the fire trucks. Afterwards, the building collapsed.

Her black silhouette pierced the full moon, and then disappeared.

"WHAT! IT'S FORTY MILLION DOLLARS! FIGURE OUT WHAT HAPPENED!" Adam Hunt screeched into his phone.

Inside his office, Detectives Quentin Lance and Lucas Hilton ignored the interruption and continued to survey the carnage.

"Always leaves a pile of bodies in his wake." Quentin shook his head. "People would be a lot more receptive to what he was doing if he stopped dropping thugs to make it happen."

"Well, at least we won't be ambushed by the media over this." Hilton stated, looking at the bright side.

Quentin gave a nod of agreement, "I still can't believe she was real after all. Though, I imagine constantly calling her 'The Girl in Blue' will get tiring after a while."

Hilton hummed in agreement.

"It was the Streak?" Iris asked her boyfriend.

It was the morning after the confrontation with Mardon. All around them, CCPD officials swarmed the premises, taking note of the damage and interviewing potential witnesses. Joe himself was currently giving a verbal report to Captain Singh.

"It couldn't have been anyone else." Eddie confirmed. Then he sighed. "What Mardon did…and what the Streak did…I still can't believe it, Iris. It looked like something out of a comic book."

Iris frowned. "So, their rambling about the blur…"

"They weren't hallucinations. The Streak really can move that fast." Eddie's narrowed. "But that doesn't matter. I'll catch him anyway."

"Harrison Wells" frowned at Gideon's projection of the news. Clyde Mardon was dead. The tornado, long gone.

Barry. It could've only been Barry.

But, according to his surveillance, during the hours of Mardon's confrontation with the detectives and subsequent death, Barry had been in his room, studying for the GED Exams. Then he had gone to sleep, snoring so loudly that he could've woken the dead up.

Yet…it had to have been Barry.

So how?

How did you do it, Barry?

Malcolm fingered one of his custom-made arrows as he watched the news.

"We can neither confirm nor deny the presence of the vigilante at this time. Hunt Multinational is still under investigation. No more questions, please."

The Hood. Malcolm fingered his copy of The List. He had initially thought the Hood had been crossing off names from there, but no – the Hood had also gone after a gang of bank robbers a few weeks prior, and a jewel thief before that. It was just coincidence that some of his targets were also on The List.

Yet, for some reason, that proved to be little comfort for Malcolm.

"It was amazing! She appeared out of nowhere and descended from the sky like an angel from above. A living, breathing miracle!"

"I think my heart stopped when I saw her, defying gravity like that."

"There was an 'S' on her chest for some reason. Granted, it was hardly the most interesting thing about her…"

Astra, situated within a random bar, watched the news with rapture, and then she saw it. The emblem.

The sigil of the House of El.

There had been only one female born of the blood of El on Krypton before its destruction.

Kara…?

The old Queen steel mill had been abandoned ever since Robert Queen had shut it down five years ago, unable to deal with the guilt of his sin from when it first opened. Since then, no one had step foot on the forsaken property.

Until now, at least.

"Well done." Oliver praised, still dressed in his Hood gear.

Beside him, Barry, similarly clothed in his own vigilante suit, nodded. "Agreed. You've taken the suspicion off us permanently."

Kara smirked. "Not that there were any grounds for a case considering that 'we' all appeared months before we got off the island, but…" her grin widened. "It's always good to reinforce our cover whenever possible."

In front of them, 'Oliver', 'Barry', and 'Kara' nodded, showing the slightest hints of mirth. "The abilities of the Human Target are truly advantageous. I'm glad you finally managed to complete the technology, Al Sa'iqa." 'Barry' complimented his mirror image.

"Indeed." 'Kara' agreed as 'Oliver' nodded his assent.

Barry shrugged and gave a smug smile. "I aim to please."

The real Oliver stepped forward. "Now, I believe it's time for you to go. Your services are no longer required here, and you are most likely needed for other missions." then, in a slightly softer tone, "Give our regards to Nyssa and the Demon's Head, if you would?"

The three look-a-likes nodded, and then melted into the shadows. Kara looked towards her leader and 'brother'. "What now?"

Oliver looked at her, then at Barry, and then at their newly constructed lair, situated beneath his family's abandoned steel factory. He smirked.

"We begin."

You were all probably hoping for some big reveal or something, but in truth it was just a plot concocted by our trinity to throw off suspicion. On the bright side, they've finally revealed themselves to the public (well, Barry is a kinda/sorta situation). The reason why I made this happen is because I hate rehashes, and I didn't want to rehash the entire plot of "Damaged" from Season 1. To be honest, this entire fic exists because there is a startling lack of decent original work in these fandoms. A lot of it is just rehashes with some minor adjustments. As for who was doing the vigilante work during those months before they came home, it was the lookalikes, using smoke and mirrors, aided by the abilities of Christopher Chance. How Chance got into contact with the League – well, you'll see.

For Kara's cloak, think like Raven from the Teen Titans. Barry's suit is a darker red with a lot of patches of black, and obviously his mouth is covered. Oliver is in the same situation.