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Chapter 98: Speed Force
The Speed Force was one of the strangest powers George had ever studied. Not just fast, not just faster than fast. It was something else entirely.
Some said it was motion given form. Others treated it like a law of nature. Either way, if Barry Allen could tap into it and bend time itself, then George wasn't going to ignore it.
The Speed Force, as described in the DC Universe, was a strange power source tied to motion itself. It could propel a person faster than light, accelerate healing, enhance memory, create energy shields, allow duplication, and even open up time travel.
It was less a power and more a cosmic law.
He didn't know what to expect when he tried. He just knew it was time.
Wearing the Speed Suit, George opened a mystic portal from his room to the Sahara Desert. The largest sandy desert on Earth, the Sahara stretches over 9 million square kilometers. No eyes, no bystanders. Just space.
Out here, he could run freely. No risks. No interruptions.
He steadied himself. Then ran.
No tricks. No chakra. No magic. Just his body.
His maximum speed topped around Mach 1. That was fast—barely past the speed of sound. But nowhere close to what the Speed Force was supposed to unlock. He came to a stop within sixty seconds. No lightning. Non-dimensional pulse. Nothing.
He tried again. Same result.
It wasn't working.
George opened another portal and returned to his room. A clone remained behind, for continuity. He didn't linger.
This time, he teleported into the DC World's Sahara. Same conditions. Same equipment.
Same outcome.
He was starting to get annoyed. Back at his villa in Gotham, purchased just for situations like this and sparring with Bruce, George cast a simple cleaning spell, changed into his usual clothes, and sat down with a drink.
Why wasn't it working?
He knew the common theory: maybe the Speed Force existed only in the DC Universe.
That had been his assumption when it failed in the Marvel World. But now, it had failed here too. So that explanation was trash.
He reviewed what he knew.
Not every fast character in DC is a speedster. Superman is fast, but not Speed Force-tied. Same for Green Lanterns who fly across galaxies.
Even people like Hunter Zolomon, who alter time to mimic speed, aren't speedsters.
True speedsters are plugged into the Speed Force—a dimension outside regular space-time. When they die, they return to it. It isn't just a power source. It's a place. A state.
Barry Allen and Wally West got their powers via lab accidents. Later, that was retconned—Barry supposedly created the Speed Force himself via time travel. Bart Allen had it genetically, but still needed help to control it.
Professor Zoom recreated it through tech. Some tapped into it by birthright, others with riskier methods.
Vandal Savage created Velocity 9, a drug that gave short-term access but caused horrifying side effects: aging, seizures, blurred vision, and even death.
Later versions removed the dangers, but the idea was the same. Speed Force access could be replicated.
George took a sip of his whiskey. He was missing something.
Most of those who succeeded were just normal humans. No prior energy inside them.
George, on the other hand, was carrying Chaos Energy, chakra, magic, and Kamar-Taj's techniques all inside one vessel. His system wasn't neutral. Maybe that mattered.
Speed Force might need to be invited in. Chakra and magic integrated easily, but maybe the Speed Force didn't integrate. Maybe it repelled.
That could mean two things: one, his body was already "occupied" and incompatible. Two, he needed to come into contact with Speed Force energy to even begin the process.
Just like how Lane and others couldn't cultivate chakra without a seed that George planted in them.
He needed a catalyst. A test.
Night in Gotham offered plenty of candidates. But George wasn't looking for a pickpocket or a random dealer. He wanted someone worse. Someone who wouldn't be missed.
Nick or Nickey, as in his circles, had made headlines before. A serial predator. Known for torturing women, pregnant ones especially. Always walked free. Technicalities. Evidence tampering. Threats to witnesses. Even the cops didn't like saying his name.
George didn't hesitate.
He found him near the docks, laughing to himself, flicking a cigarette off a stairwell.
He didn't speak. He just teleported them both out.
They appeared in a dimly lit holding room. Nigo blinked in confusion.
"Hey… what? Where am I? Why did you bring me here? I didn't do anything serious, man. I'm just a guy trying to eat. We can work something out."
George didn't answer. He held up a syringe. The nanobomb inside was from Bruce's old stockpile. Suicide Squad-grade. Into the neck.
"What the hell was that? Listen, I got nothing. Just let me go," Nigo begged.
George tossed him a suit.
"Put it on."
Nigo looked at it, half-laughing. "What is this, cosplay? You want me to dance around in tights?"
George pulled a handgun from his coat. Didn't aim it. Just showed it.
Nigo changed.
The portal opened. Nigo and his filthy street clothes dropped into the Sahara. George followed.
No patience now. He shot Nigo in both legs.
The man dropped, howling.
"Why?" he gasped.
"Shut up. Next shot goes to your head."
Groaning, Nigo clutched his thigh.
"Do what I say. No arguments."
"Yeah… okay. Whatever you want."
George didn't want to brainwash him. He wanted real behavior. Stress. Desperation. Maybe that was the key.
"Shake your hands, fast."
"Alright."
Nigo's hands trembled. Then moved quicker. Faster. They blurred.
Red lightning flickered across his skin.
George's eyes narrowed. Success.
He left a clone standing off to the side. Quiet. Watching.
Then he knelt next to Nigo and touched the sparks.
Pain surged in him, like acid, and then his Chaos Energy instantly reacted, rejecting it. But George held on.
The lightning fought back. Not violently. More like it didn't want to belong. Alien. Reluctant.
He forced stillness. Forced it to mix.
Then—movement.
Nigo grabbed his arm. Tried to jolt him.
George fired one clean shot.
Nigo dropped.
The clone didn't even flinch. Still watching the horizon.
George stood. Hands tingling.
The lightning was gone. But something remained.
It had touched him.
That was enough.
For now. Nearby, George's clone kept watch, eyes never leaving the surroundings.
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