A Flash OF White

The crime scene was already roped off when Barry arrived, rain falling in relentless sheets across the alley where another body lay twisted in the dark. The flickering streetlamp above cast long, warped shadows, turning the puddles red with reflected light. The victim was a man in his forties—formerly part of Black Hole, according to the CCPD database. His chest was torn open, ribs cracked apart like splintered wood by something that moved too fast to be seen. Again.

Barry crouched by the body, lips pressed in a thin line, his brow furrowed with the weight of familiarity. This was the third one this month. And each time, the trail led nowhere.

"Same signature," said a voice behind him.

Barry looked over his shoulder to see August Heart approaching, pulling on a pair of gloves with practiced ease. "Velocity-induced trauma. Whatever did this… it was moving at impossible speeds."

Barry blinked. "You're sounding like you've done this before."

August gave a small shrug, almost too nonchalant. "Speedsters aren't exactly uncommon in this city. I'm just keeping up."

Something in his tone was too casual. Too calculated. Barry filed it away, suspicion curling quietly in the back of his mind.

Then, a sudden whoosh of wind cut through the alley, scattering papers and lifting Barry's coat in a gust. Both men looked up instinctively. Just a white blur of golden lightning in the distance—gone in an instant.

Barry stood sharply, instincts kicking in. "Did you see that?"

August nodded, eyes narrowing as he stared in the direction of the blur, but said nothing.

"I—I need to check something," Barry muttered, already backing away. "You stay here and coordinate with the forensics team."

Before August could respond, Barry turned a corner—and vanished in a streak of red lightning, leaving only the smell of ozone behind.

Barry sprinted through Central City, trailing the chaotic lightning residue left behind by the speedster's reckless path. Whoever this was, they weren't just fast—they were sloppy, erratic, even downright reckless, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake that practically begged to be followed. The air itself seemed to crackle with energy, every step Barry took bringing him closer to the chaos the speedster was leaving behind.

He finally caught up near the outskirts of the city, where the buildings thinned and the streets became more desolate, giving him the space he needed to close the distance.

The speedster came to a sudden stop on a deserted stretch of road, his figure looming tall and menacing in the dim streetlights. He stood there in a gleaming white suit threaded with golden lines, his entire body shimmering with kinetic energy. A lightning bolt insignia stretched dramatically across his chest, glowing as if alive. His helmet had golden eyes that seemed to burn with intensity, with oversized lightning bolts running from either side. The air around him shimmered with heat and static, his body crackling like a living storm as he stood motionless, waiting.

Barry narrowed his eyes beneath his cowl, every muscle tensed, ready for whatever was coming next. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice low and steady.

The figure didn't answer; his gaze locked on Barry without a word. The silence between them hung heavy, almost oppressive.

"I know what you've been doing," Barry continued, his voice firm, the weight of his words carrying through the tension. "The Black Hole murders. You don't have to keep running."

Still, the figure remained silent. Then, without warning, in a flash of lightning, the white blur lunged toward Barry, moving at a speed that was almost too fast to follow.

Barry barely managed to dodge the first strike. The second came faster, sharper, with a vicious speed that left him little room to react. This speedster was unlike any other Barry had faced—more aggressive, more unhinged, as if the speed itself had taken control. They exchanged blows at impossible velocity, their bodies vibrating through cars and streetlamps, tearing up the asphalt beneath their feet in a cloud of dust and debris.

Then, in an instant—there were two of them.

The speedster split in half, an exact duplicate materializing beside the original, and before Barry could even process the move, both of them hit him in perfect unison.

The force of the blow sent Barry crashing through a brick wall, concrete dust exploding around him as sparks flew from his body, the sharp pain of the impact radiating through his ribs. His breath caught, and for a split second, everything seemed to blur. The world spun around him as he struggled to regain his bearings.

One of the speedsters stepped over him, holding his hand out with malicious intent, sending vibrations through the air that intensified until they landed on Barry's chest like a hammer blow. Barry's eyes widened as he felt his speed draining from him—every molecule of his kinetic energy being ripped away as if it were being torn from his very soul.

"No—!" Barry gasped, unable to move as the energy drained out of him.

A sonic boom split the sky, the force of it shattering the silence as a streak of red and blue light came crashing down, hitting the attacker like a meteor.

Kara.

She slammed into him with enough force to send him flying, her figure a blur as she pivoted midair, her eyes flashing with determination. She blasted the second attacker with a precise burst of heat vision, sending him reeling backward. Both white-suited figures, clearly outmatched, zipped away in retreat, vanishing into the horizon like ghosts, their speed leaving behind only the faintest trace of lightning.

"You okay?" Kara asked, landing beside Barry with a concerned look on her face as she helped him sit up, her hand steady on his shoulder.

He nodded, still catching his breath, his body aching from the impact. "Thanks for the save. I owe you one."

Back at CCPD, Barry slipped back into his lab like nothing had happened. August was leaning against a desk, clearly waiting for him, having stayed at the scene the whole time.

"Kara," Barry said, beckoning her in, "this is Detective August Heart."

August turned with a charming smile. "So we finally meet. Heard a lot about you."

"Same," Kara said, holding her hand out.

August froze. His gaze bounced from Kara's face to Barry, then back again, eyebrows rising like they were trying to escape his forehead. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait—you're Supergirl?"

Kara blinked, a little startled. "Uh… yeah?"

August practically threw his hands in the air. "You're telling me your girlfriend is Supergirl and you never thought to mention that, Barry?!"

Barry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "It never really came up."

"Never came up?! Dude, I've been talking about meta activity for months, and you've been casually dating a flying, heat-vision-wielding alien this whole time?"

Kara smirked, amused. "Nice to meet you, too."

August laughed, a little too loud, clearly trying to play it cool. "No, it's cool. Totally cool. Just… wow. Okay. Supergirl. Sure. That's… awesome. Yeah."

As August shook her hand again, still visibly trying to process the whole Supergirl revelation, Kara noticed the faintest hitch in his posture. His grin was wide, maybe too wide, stretching his face in a way that felt more performative than genuine. His fingers twitched slightly as they made contact with hers, and his eyes, though bright, darted around like he was still catching up with the reality in front of him. There was a split-second delay in his reactions, like his brain was buffering while his mouth kept talking. Kara had seen this kind of thing before—people scrambling to appear normal in front of someone they were secretly intimidated by. Despite his earlier bravado, August was clearly rattled. His voice carried a rehearsed calm, but his body betrayed him. The whole performance felt a little too polished—like someone pretending not to be nervous while mentally spiraling.

They talked briefly, August clearly making a good impression on Joe and the other detectives, laughing in all the right places, dropping clever observations like breadcrumbs. But Kara's instincts weren't fooled. Beneath the practiced charm and cool exterior, this man was hiding something.

Later, at STAR Labs, Barry and Kara debriefed Cisco and Caitlin under the glowing hum of monitors. The room was filled with the soft, rhythmic buzz of equipment, and the walls seemed to pulse with the energy of the day's events. Barry and Kara stood together near the large table, the weight of their latest encounter still hanging heavily in the air, each of them processing the fight in their own way.

Barry paced the lab floor, his legs restless as he tried to shake off the adrenaline still coursing through him. His mind was still racing from the chase, trying to piece together the puzzle of what had just happened. "He split into two," he said, his voice tight, the frustration creeping into his tone. "It wasn't a speed mirage. There were two of him. And he tried to steal my speed."

Caitlin looked up from her station, her face a picture of concern, her brows furrowed as she processed the information. She tapped a few commands into her keyboard before looking back at Barry. "That… shouldn't be possible," she said, her voice low as she scanned the data. "I mean, creating a duplicate of yourself? That's something beyond anything we've seen before. Not to mention draining your speed." She shook her head. "That's not just advanced tech—it's dangerous."

Kara, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, stood slightly apart from the group. Her eyes were narrowed as she looked at the schematics on the screen, but her focus was elsewhere, the edge of battle still in her demeanor. "He would've succeeded in draining my speed if I didn't show up when I did," she said flatly, her tone sharp and controlled. "He was fast, sure—but sloppy. He didn't anticipate how I would react."

Barry nodded grimly, his jaw clenched in frustration. He stopped pacing, his hands resting on the back of a nearby chair as he stared down at the table. "This guy is killing these Black Hole members for a reason. And he's getting more powerful. I can feel it. It's not just about speed anymore. He's evolving. Whatever he's doing, it's getting worse." The words weighed on him like a burden he couldn't shake off.

Cisco, who had been studying the blurry image of the suit they captured, finally looked up, his face lit by the glow of the monitors. "Whatever tech he's using, it's beyond anything we've seen so far," he said, his voice full of awe and worry. "If he can duplicate himself and drain speed, we're not just dealing with a meta. We're dealing with something… something new."

Kara's eyes flashed as she leaned forward, her voice low but full of intent. "Then he's not just a threat," she said firmly, locking eyes with Barry. "He's an army. And he's building it right in front of us."