A flash of lightning streaked overhead, rippling through the inkiness of the night sky like a glowing question mark. It was bright and intense; despite only being in the sky for a moment, it briefly illuminated the entire world in swathes of yellow-and-orange light.

KRACK!

Thunder echoed like drums, slowly building up a rhythmic crescendo that reverberated through the night. It carried through the ground underfoot and vibrated so loudly that streams of rain bounced like droplets of water on a speaker.

As another wayward bolt of lightning streaked overhead. a powerful gust of wind followed in its wake, swirling through the night air. Leaves danced in the sudden turbulence, creating a hypnotic rhythm that echoed the energy of the storm.

The wind carried with it a faint whisper, like an ancient secret was being whispered just a little too quietly to make out. The air crackled with an electric charge, and the smell of ozone wafted through the night.

In the midst of the swirling winds, a distant silhouette emerged, a figure shrouded in shadows. Red, glowing eyes appeared on the silhouette, accompanied by another crack of lightning—crimson this time.

I'm coming.

"Barry, are you awake, honey? You're going to be late for class again!"

Barry awoke with a start, flinging his blanket off his body. His Power Rangers plushie—the trusty cyborg T-rex from Dino Thunder—went flying off his leg and squeaked sadly onto the ground in front of his bed.

As his mind refocused, he could hear the incessant ringing of the alarm clock on his bedside table. He was so out of it that the ringing felt like a spritz bottle being squirted in his face, with each subsequent ring making him feel a bit more awake.

He tried to ignore it for as long as he could. He didn't hold out long—it must've been the fifth or sixth ring when Barry groggily flipped over and squinted at the numbers.

8:55.

"Crap!" Barry swore, diving out of bed and stumbling toward his closet. His foot caught on an upturned corner of his rug, and he faceplanted into the ground, smacking his head against his bed frame.

"Barry!" His mom's voice echoed from downstairs again, more urgent this time. He could almost picture the stern look on her face—no doubt, she was standing at the foot of the staircase, her hands on her hips and her mouth set into a thin line. "Are you okay? Do you need me to come up there, sweetie?"

"Yeah, no, I'm fine, Mom! Be right down!" Barry called back, wiping some sweat off his forehead. His chest was rising and falling erratically. The thrum of his heartbeat felt like a jackhammer in his chest. He flicked through his hangers and muttered, "Crap, today's laundry day."

BZZT!

Barry hopped over to his bed, pulling a pant leg over his left leg and flinging his arm through a shirt he found on the ground. He peeked at his phone from inside the face-hole of his shirt.

Linda: Can you send me the homework?

"We had homework?" Barry groaned, pulling the shirt completely on. He found a red hoodie hanging off the side of his bed and grabbed it, pressing his nose to the fabric. Barry inhaled. He smelled a heady smell that was a blend of root beer and Skittles. "That'll have to do."

"Barry, you're going to be late again!" His mom's voice wafted up the stairs as Barry zipped up his hoodie and grabbed his phone. He all but kicked the bathroom door open and squirted some toothpaste onto his brush. "Of course we had homework. Why wouldn't we have homework? No, this…this is great, this is so awesome, I'm having so much fun. I'm such a happy camper."

He began brushing his teeth with one hand and typing with the other.

Barry: FML. I forgot about the he.

Linda: The he?

Barry: HW.

Linda: Of course you did. Were you playing Overwatch all night with Jaime again?

Barry: I don't have to answer that. What's your excuse, anyway?

Linda: I didn't feel like doing it!

Barry: Fair enough.

"There's our late riser," Barry's prediction had been correct—by the time he brushed his teeth, washed his face, and grabbed his bag, his mom had returned to her perch near the bottom of the stairs, looking as disappointed as ever. "I swear, Barry, you're a junior in college and you're still running late everywhere! When are you going to get a better alarm clock?"

"Oh, give the boy a break, Nora," Barry's dad spoke up from across the table. The newspaper in his hands ruffled as he flipped through it. "Allens are known for being late. It's our family motto, you know. My grandfather always used to say: better late than never!"

"You're still coddling the boy, Henry," Nora crossed her arms and mustered up the sternest look she could. She whacked Barry's shoulder with a dishcloth. "Use some of your college skills to turn up the volume on the clock, or something!"

"Why would I need an alarm clock when I have you?" Barry returned with a grin, pecking Nora's cheek. Her stern look melted. "Besides, I'm studying physics, mom. Not engineering."

Nora turned her look across the table. "Henry, will you look into it?"

"No promises, sweetheart."

"Henry…"

"Alright, alright. I'll take a look this weekend," Henry sighed, lowering his newspaper. "You home for dinner tonight, slugger?"

"No, I have my internship today, remember?" Barry said, snagging a piece of toast off Nora's plate. Ignoring her gasp, he spoke around a bite of bread, "I should be home by nine, though. I'll text you guys if anything changes, though!"

"Sounds good," Henry's eyes crinkled. "Looks like your mom and I can try one of those wine-and-dine recipes again. Didn't you want to try the pasta tonight? I can swing by the store on the way home."

"Only if you want," Nora replied as Barry poured himself a glass of orange juice. She pointed at Henry and raised her eyebrows. "Last time, I had to eat the whole pan."

Henry lowered the newspaper again, unimpressed. "I'm pretty sure your exact words were," He raised his hands in fake quotation marks, "If you eat that last piece of pizza I'm going to divorce you!"

"Mm, that sounds serious. What kind of pizza was it?"

"Margeherita."

"Sorry, pops," Barry said, placing his chin on Nora's shoulder and grinning. "I'm with Mom on this one."

"Villians, the both of you," Henry shook his head. He gave Barry a sideways look. A grin slowly formed on his face. "Don't you have to get going?"

"Shoot! Yes! Bye! I love you both!" Barry said, scooping up his backpack and waving as he barreled out of the door and down his front steps.

CCU was a ten-minute walk on a good day, but Barry desperately needed it to be the best day ever. Class was technically starting right now, and unlike every other professor he had, Dr. Wells was the only one who consistently took attendance.

He had a strict four-absence-and-tardy policy, and as luck would have it, Barry was on pace for his fourth tardy…this month. If it stood, he'd get the equivalent of a zero on a quiz heaped onto the end of his final grade.

"Wells is going to kill me," Barry muttered, yelping as a stray cat leaped in front of him. Yellow eyes stared at him for a moment, before the cat hissed and continued on its path, jumping from rock to rock on the sidewalk. "If I even get there."

CCU was positioned near the center of Central City. Barry didn't think it was that close to the center—that was denoted by the city's statue of Thomas Jefferson—but one of Barry's professors in his first year of college had made a horrible joke about how the school was at the "center of central."

The walk wasn't too taxing. One of the benefits of living so close to school, Barry supposed. No matter how stray cats crossed his path, and even though an errant taxi definitely didn't follow the law of the road and almost whacked him, it wasn't long before the canopy of trees and the string of white-picket fences melted into towering buildings and streetlamps. Barry's phone buzzed again.

Linda: He's taking attendance now. Not gonna lie, Bar, this one's on you. He even waited a bit. It's like he knew you were going to be late, tried to wait so you weren't late, and you still somehow found a way to be late.

Barry groaned, "You're kidding me!"

After a few more minutes of frenzied walking, Central City University's campus peeked out from around a corner.

South campus, the campus with all of the STEM buildings, sprawled beneath the sky. The main gateway, flanked by imposing granite columns, rose like a monolithic portal. Barry stepped through, hustling past the green field and coffee shop on wheels that hollered a deal at him. As great as a two-dollar cappuccino and donut combo sounded right now, he knew he couldn't afford to be any later than he already was.

Luckily, the physics building was the first building on campus.

Unlike the rest of the campus, which had been constructed by the same architect who'd spent just a bit too long in Greece, the physics building had been renovated just last year through a generous donation fund set up by Joseph Carver, one of the school's most distinguished alumni.

It kind of stuck out like a sore thumb. A good-looking, futuristic sore thumb.

Its exterior was a symphony of sleek lines, glass surfaces, and metallic accents that caught the ambient light, creating an ethereal glow against the backdrop of the cityscape. The facade, crafted from seamless, reflective glass, stretched upward and outward like a crystalline donut. Barry ignored the rumble in his stomach and forced himself not to turn back.

Embedded LED strips pulsated with a gentle hum, tracing patterns reminiscent of circuitry around an ever-shifting display that showed everything from the news to a looping episode of the Office.

The display rippled as Barry got closer, showcasing a pre-recorded message from their Dean: "Welcome to our Aristarchos building. The 300-million-dollar marvel standing in front of you is a state-of-the-art science building at Central City University named after the legendary ancient Greek mathematician and astronomer Aristarchus of Samos. The inspiration behind choosing Aristarchus as the namesake lies in his groundbreaking contributions to early heliocentrism—the notion that the Earth and other planets revolve around the Sun. In the spirit of Aristarchus' revolutionary thinking, the building was envisioned as a hub for cutting-edge physics research, embracing a helical design that symbolizes the celestial orbits he studied. The transparent façade reflects his commitment to transparency in knowledge, inviting the city to witness the ongoing scientific explorations within its walls. It also represents our transparency when it comes to our students. Here at CCU, we believe in constantly pushing our students past their limits and arming them with the real-world knowhow to excel in any field. What can CCU do for you?"

"Give me some powers to go back in time and wake myself up an hour early," Barry grumbled, pushing the door open. "That, or make Wells somehow forgive me. The first one seems more likely, though."

Overhead, a vast transparent ceiling allowed glimpses of the sky, while holographic displays floated in mid-air, projecting dynamic equations and abstract scientific models. The dean's face beamed back in the middle, and she began another long-winded speech comparing herself to Galileo, but Barry tuned her out and made a beeline for his classroom.

Barry paused outside the door, trying to time his entrance. Wells' voice barely floated past the door. "To answer your question, Liam, Feynman diagrams provide an intuitive and graphical representation of particle interactions. Lines in the diagram represent particles, and vertices depict interactions. The beauty of these diagrams lies in their simplicity, offering a visual language that transcends the complexity of mathematical equations. As you can see here…"

He tried to open the door as quietly as possible. If this was one of his other courses, like College Writing, he'd be able to sneak in virtually undetected in the gigantic lecture hall.

Of course, as you'd expect, Quantum Field Theory had significantly fewer people. Aside from Barry's friend, Linda, there were maybe ten other kids.

Not that it would've mattered—as he applied a bit of pressure to the door, it made the loudest, rustiest squeak known to mankind, and Barry was certain that everyone in the classroom knew he was late now.

"Ah, our missing friend," Barry hated being right. Why was a door in such a new building even capable of being rusty already? "Please come in, Mr. Allen."

Barry tried to ignore the burn in his cheeks as he shuffled into the classroom. Dr. Wells stood at the front of the classroom with a stack of papers on his desk and a computer displaying a screensaver of the university's logo flickering in the background.

Barry hated disappointing Wells. Aside from the fact that the man was one of his personal heroes, a pioneer in the field of quantum physics, and one of the best teachers he ever had—he was also Barry's advisor.

The man had the power of Barry's graduation eligibility in his hands like a fragile, little bird. And, while Barry was sure Wells would never hold him back from graduation just for being a bit late, he also didn't want to risk it.

Barry glanced at the students, who were all looking at him like they were watching a car crash in live action. Some of them were trying not to make eye contact with him, like acknowledging his presence would force them out in front of the class, too. Others were openly smiling.

Linda was trying not to laugh. It was hard to miss her—not only was she the only girl in class, but she was wearing a purple sweater and a cream hat. She looked like a mismatched ice cream cone who took delight in his embarrassment.

"Question for you, to get your mind jogging," Wells said, setting his jaw. His neatly combed hair, graying at the temples, looked like it was glowing in the light beam of the projector. Wells' piercing blue eyes were framed by a pair of sleek, rectangular glasses. "What is the Dirac equation, Mr. Allen?"

"Oh, um," Barry wracked his brain, trying to recall the faded pages of his textbook. He'd looked at it briefly last night, but his brain felt all scrambled this morning. Playing four hours of video games and being awake for a total of fifteen minutes probably didn't help. "The Dirac equation…is when you have the relativistic energy equation and you, um—"

"Partial points, Mr. Allen," Barry almost missed the subtle curve of his lips. "When you have the relativistic energy equation and you attempt to turn it into a differential equation using the usual substitutions, you find yourself with the Klein-Gordon equation: interpreted as a single-particle wave equation, this has problematic negative energy solutions, due to the negative root in the original equation. Perhaps, in relativistic mechanics, this negative root could be ignored, but in quantum physics, one must keep all of the complete set of solutions to a differential equation. Dirac proposed a solution to this idea, and now, Mr. Allen, if you'll find your seat, I'll show you exactly how he did it."

"Oh, you pissed him off today," Linda whispered as Barry took his usual seat next to her. "He still took it easy on you, though. If you were Bill, phew, he would've kicked your ass."

"I don't know, Linda," Barry grumbled back as he pulled out his notebook. "That felt pretty rough, to me."

"Did you at least rank up last night? And why do you smell like Skittles?"

"Again with the questions."

Barry fell into the routine of the class pretty easily.

The familiar hum of the projector fan blended with the rustle of notebooks and the tapping of laptop keys. Dr. Wells' explanations were accompanied by the soft shuffling of papers, the occasional click of a retractable pen, and Linda's humming.

There was an unassuming charm to Wells' lecture hall that Barry liked. It didn't boast holographic projections or touchscreen chairs, like some of the other classrooms in the building. It was just a few rows of chairs, a chalkboard, and a projector. Nothing more, nothing less.

The class passed by quickly. It was a pretty standard lecture, and Linda only spent five minutes messing with his notes today, which was a marked improvement. Barry tried to answer as many questions as he could, hoping that Wells would just forget that he was late if he was engaged enough for the time that he was here.

"Want to swing by Soco for some lunch?" Linda asked as Barry finished packing up his stuff. "I've got a half hour before calc."

"Can't," Barry replied, ignoring Linda's groan. "I have my internship today."

"Oh, right," Linda said, a nasty look forming on her face. The duo made their way down the stairs on the side of the classroom. "Your internship with Perfect Patty. Do you even do work there, or do you just spend all your time making googly eyes at her?"

"Patty is a professional," Barry returned hotly, the tips of his ears burning. "I don't get why you don't like her. She was such a help when we joined the ACS."

"More like when you joined it. That chemistry society was about as helpful as—"

"Ms. Parker," Wells interjected smoothly as they reached his desk. Linda immediately stopped talking. "Mr. Allen. So sorry to interrupt, but if I could hold Mr. Allen back for a few moments, would that be okay?"

"Of course, professor," Linda sidled away from Barry. She looked torn between getting out of the classroom and returning with a film crew to catch Barry getting reamed out. "I need to get to my next class, anyway. Thanks for the lecture."

Wells declined his head and gave Linda a small smile, which she returned as she walked out of the classroom. "Barry."

"Dr. Wells," A lump formed in Barry's throat. "I'm so sorry for being late—"

"Do you know why I have that attendance policy in place?" He asked suddenly, leaning back against his desk, and looking expectantly at Barry. "I understand that a lot of my colleagues tend to be a bit more...laissez-faire with their policies."

Barry bit his lip. "Um, no sir."

Wells waved his hand. "I suppose the easy answer is that the intricacies of quantum phenomena demand a level of engagement that goes beyond mere passive learning. It requires deliberate immersion, a conscious effort to absorb the complexities that we explore in this lecture hall. Much like particles in motion, your presence in this room is an integral part of the equation."

"I understand that, sir."

"Well, at the risk of giving you another lecture, I'll take it a step further. In science, every moment counts. Every second, protons and electrons gracefully surrender to the ephemeral nature of their existence. They dissipate into the fabric of spacetime, leaving behind a void that lasts only for an infinitesimally brief moment. But, in the next heartbeat of the cosmic clock, they are born anew, emerging from the quantum abyss with a renewed vigor," He paused, allowing his words to sink in. Wells fixed Barry with an intense look. "A scientist must be deliberate and purposeful in their pursuits. Every lecture, every interaction, and every equation is a piece of a puzzle that you are assembling. Like a craftsman meticulously shaping a masterpiece, you are crafting your understanding of the quantum world. Especially now, in a world where we have flying men, metahumans, and aliens, the quantum world is that much more important. I think you have what it takes to uncover some of these mysteries, which is why it disappoints me to see you not live up to your fullest potential. Showing up to class late, not doing your homework. These aren't the tendencies that will bring you success."

"I'm sorry," Barry said, meaning every word. He didn't even bother asking how Wells knew he didn't do his homework. Wells just seemed to know everything. "This won't happen again."

"I'm willing to look past it," Wells spoke up, and for the first time, Barry noticed that he was wearing a deep blue tuxedo. A crisp white shirt, impeccably pressed, peeked out from beneath his jacket. "If you'll join me tonight at STAR labs."

"Sir?" Barry asked uneasily, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

STAR Labs was the place for any burgeoning scientist to dream of entering. The sprawling facility, hidden behind the sleek façade of a cutting-edge research center, housed state-of-the-art laboratories and groundbreaking experiments that threatened the bounds of physics.

It was one of the epicenters of scientific exploration in Central City, and its reputation as a hub for the extraordinary had only grown in the last few years since Ryan Choi had invested in it.

The billionaire had taken STAR Labs from a startup to arguably one of the most prolific laboratories in the world.

They did all kinds of things in there—from groundbreaking advancements in particle physics to cutting-edge research in meta-human biology, STAR Labs was quite literally a melting pot of scientific disciplines. Being invited inside was rare.

"Mr. Choi provided me with two tickets for the particle accelerator demonstration tonight, for my wife and I. Unfortunately, we have a parent-teacher conference tonight for our youngest, which she has graciously agreed to go to alone," Dr. Wells fixed Barry with a steady gaze, his eyes betraying a glint of anticipation. "You've shown potential, Barry, even if your academic punctuality is lacking. STAR Labs is always on the lookout for fresh minds, and I believe you have something valuable to contribute. It's at seven—if you come with me, I'll be more than happy to look past both the tardy and the homework assignment."

"I'll be there!" Barry answered, almost instantly. A spike of ice formed in his chest, "I just…I have my internship. I don't know if I'll be able to make it there in time."

Wells chuckled as he zipped open his bag and began filing away some of the homework assignments on the desk. "Ah, yes, your co-op at CCPD. What time does your internship generally end?"

"Eight."

"Is Ms. Spivot still your supervisor?"

"Yes, sir!"

"I'll make a call," Wells said crisply. He nodded at Barry. "Meet me there around six-thirty. Dinner is provided."

"Um, okay," Barry said awkwardly. "I'll see you then!"

"Oh, you have no idea how lucky you are, Bar," Patty said, laughing as Barry entered her office. "STAR Labs? At your age?"

"Okay, you're like, two years older than me," Barry grinned, taking a seat in front of her. "And he called you already? I left campus ten minutes ago!"

"The man's fast," Patty shrugged. "I'm more than happy to let you go a little early. I'll still give you the hours, too. You're still a broke little college student, eh?"

"Well, yeah," Barry returned. "I can't argue with that. Not all of us get six-figure jobs while they're still in college, you know?"

Even though Barry knew Linda meant Perfect Patty as an insult, the nickname actually wasn't that far from the truth.

Barry had first met Patty when he joined the ACS—American Chemistry Society. CCU had just opened up a branch, and back in those days, Barry had still been a chemistry major. At the time, Patty was a junior and the chairwoman of the club. She called him a "cute little freshman" and decided that from that day forward, he was her cute little freshman. Patty gave him help with what professors to take, what classes to avoid, and she'd even given him an inside track with Dr. Wells, which was how he switched majors so easily.

By the time she was a senior, she'd already published a few papers on metahumans, and CCPD had been so impressed that they'd given her a cushy job as lead of their metahuman department, where she'd then turned around and demanded they bring Barry on as a "metahuman studies intern."

Basically, his job was to work with scientists and researchers to understand and analyze the physics behind meta-human abilities. It involved a lot of cool stuff like studying the energy dynamics of superpowers, investigating the impact of meta-human events on the environment, and developing tools to detect meta-human activity.

As Patty threw her head back and laughed, Barry realized that Patty even looked perfect.

Patty always seemed to stride into the room with an air of confidence, her blue eyes sparkling with intelligence, and her blonde hair flowing around her shoulders like a supermodel's. She even made wearing a lab coat look glamorous.

"Keep up the good work around here, and you just might," Patty shuffled some papers on her desk. "Hell, if it was up to me, I'd give you a return offer right now, but the higher-ups want to see how you fare for the rest of the month."

"So, you guys just don't have the budget yet?"

"We're working on it," Patty smiled, a dimple making itself known on the left side of her face. She rubbed her forehead. "The truth is, we're probably going to get a pretty big grant around here soon. The whole deal with Superman accidentally leveling a city block in Metropolis debacle has politicians foaming at the mouth for technologically advanced divisions to be built into law enforcement. Even in Central City."

Barry scoffed, "Please, the last metahuman we had here was that dude who could turn his tattoos into playing cards, and he got brought in by you guys within the hour."

"Jeremy Tell," Patty remembered, shaking her head. "Blech, what a creep."

Her phone rang, and she read the caller ID. "Drat, looks like the commish is calling. Tell you what, Bar, just do some e-trainings today and sneak out whenever you need to. If anyone asks, tell them to talk to me."

"You're the best, Patty!" Barry called as he walked out of her office.

"I like chocolate and orchids, if you're thinking of it making it up to me—wait, don't do that, actually. HR might make me do one of those mandatory trainings again."

After a relatively boring day at work mindlessly clicking through modules, Barry snuck out and hailed a cab to STAR labs.

He'd seen pictures of it online and watched videos on YouTube of what people thought happened in there, but actually being in front of it was an overwhelming feeling. Barry felt like an ant.

The building kind of looked like a white jelly bean.

It towered over its surroundings. The front side of the jelly bean was adorned with reflective glass panels that seemed to shimmer under the city lights. On the side of the building, sleek solar panels dotted toward the back Antennae towers adorned the rooftop, reaching skyward like outstretched fingers.

Armed guards patrolled the area. They were all tall and dressed in bulky black armor. Each one was equipped with a utility belt that held a sidearm, a knife holster, several grenades, and M16s with silencers and drum magazines.

"Barry!" Barry was broken out of his thoughts as Wells beckoned him forward. "Come, come! You made it just in time."

The guards eyed him as he walked past. One even told him, gruffly, "Don't touch anything in there, kid."

"You'll have to excuse the theatrics," Wells said, brushing some imaginary lint off his tuxedo. "Mr. Choi is a stickler for security. In today's day and age, you can't blame him, I suppose."

"No, you can't," Barry agreed dumbly as Wells led him through the entrance.

The lobby was the size of a football field. It stretched into the facility's heart, a vast expanse where gleaming white surfaces and metallic accents seamlessly blended with the hum of unseen machinery.

To his left, holographic displays projected intricate scientific models into thin air, flickering with data and equations. On his right, transparent panels revealed bustling laboratories, where scientists clad in crisp lab coats moved with purpose among high-tech equipment, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of monitors.

"It's imperative that they make sure everything is perfect," Wells said as he led Barry through the crowd. "A particle accelerator is not something to use haphazardly. Sure, at face level, it's a whole new way of looking at physics, but using one of this size? Well, one wrong calculation here or there, and that would be millions of dollars in research gone in a flash."

AN: Welcome to my new story! To those of you who remember my very first story ever on this site, it was a Flash story, though that one was based on the show. I've been wanting to get back into that side of things, and hanging around Manke (you should check out his stories and join his server) reignited some of the passion I carried for DC comics.

As you can tell from this one, it's going to be based on the Justice League comics a bit more, though, and not the show. This chapter was a bit slow and exposition-y but most pilots are. I hope you'll give me the benefit of the doubt and give me a chapter or two to really get cooking, here. I plan on retelling the story.

Also, if you have any ideas for pairings…anything goes! I'm partial to Barry/Kara, but I'll hear them all out. Anyone from DC, within reason, goes. I also like Blackfire.