Ignoring Jack Kadere's joke, Caitlin Snow kept her eyes on the road as she drove.
"S.T.A.R. Labs isn't very convenient right now," she said after a moment, her voice calm but tinged with worry. "So I'll take you to my place first for some routine checks. Oh, by the way, let me ask you something—just hypothetically. What if someone was struck by lightning, but didn't die? Instead, they fell into a coma for nine months, yet all their bodily functions remained perfectly stable. No atrophy, no deterioration. Do you think that's even possible?"
Her question hung in the air, cautious and hesitant. She risked a sideways glance at Jack.
Jack smirked. "You mean Barry Allen?"
Screech! The tires shrieked as Caitlin slammed the brakes. She turned to him in shock. "How do you know that name?"
"I know a lot more than you think," Jack replied coolly, gesturing for her to keep driving. "Go on."
Still unsettled, Caitlin restarted the car, curiosity burning in her eyes.
"He's already awake, isn't he?" Jack asked, his tone light but confident.
Caitlin nodded reluctantly. "Yes. He woke up. I wanted to run a full series of tests on him. After all, being struck by lightning and lying unconscious for nine months should've left serious aftereffects, but…" she exhaled with frustration. "He walked out before I could finish my exam."
Jack chuckled under his breath. "Don't worry. He'll be back soon enough."
Because that was his real goal here—the Speed Force.
The Speed Force wasn't just power. It was a cosmic cheat code, a force of nature that granted its wielder godlike velocity. With it, one could move so fast as to bend time and space, phase through matter, and even alter reality itself. Barry Allen, the Flash, had once plunged the entire world into chaos by saving his mother—a disaster known as Flashpoint. Reset timelines, paradoxes, broken universes. That was the legacy of one man and his connection to the Speed Force.
In short: Barry Allen was destiny's favorite troublemaker.
When Barry became the Flash, the Speed Force spread across space and time, pulling other speedsters into existence. The catch was simple: the Speed Force only generated energy when someone tapped into it, running. And those connected to it were rarely free from its influence.
Take Dr. Harrison Wells, for instance—or rather, the man wearing his face. The Reverse-Flash, Eobard Thawne, had traveled back from the future to kill Barry, only to murder Barry's mother instead. That single act altered the timeline and trapped Thawne in this era, powerless without a functioning Speed Force. He needed Barry alive, needed him running faster, so he played mentor while secretly plotting. A twisted relationship born of dependency.
Jack narrowed his eyes at the thought. If he copied Barry's powers, would he inherit Barry's Speed Force, chained to it like Thawne? Or would his gift forge an independent Speed Force of his own?
The idea of being bound to some cosmic energy source he didn't fully control didn't sit well with him. The last thing he wanted was to mess around with his powers and end up stranded in some random century like Thawne, powerless and bored to death.
"If it's an independent Speed Force, perfect," Jack mused to himself. "If not… then I'll just toss Barry into the Speed Force as fuel. Better him than me."
His smirk widened. "Besides, isn't that better than being the the speedster equivalent of a crash test dummy?"
Barry Allen's reputation amused him. Every season of his story began with Barry's confident monologue: 'My name is Barry Allen, and I am the fastest man alive.' Yet in practice, Barry was more often the fastest man to get punched in the face. Outpaced by other speedsters, beaten down by villains without powers, and only pulling out victory at the last possible moment.
"Fastest man alive? Please," Jack scoffed with a laugh. "Your real superpower is taking Ls. Half the time you can't even chase down a moving van without tripping over your own feet. Then someone's got to give you a motivational speech like it's Rocky just to keep you from sulking. The only thing moving fast is how quickly you get slapped back to reality."
Just then, Caitlin's phone buzzed insistently. "Ring, ring, ring…"
She slowed the car, pulled her bag from the back seat, and answered. "Cisco? What's wrong?" She listened for a moment, her eyes widening. Then she glanced at Jack in surprise. "I'll be right there."
Ending the call, Caitlin frowned slightly. "Barry just came back to the lab. I need to head there right away."
Jack gave her a knowing smile. "Not really convenient for me to tag along, huh?"
She offered a small, apologetic shrug.
"That's fine. Drop me near the lab, and give me your home address. I'll swing by later."
With a quick nod, Caitlin turned the car around, rattling off her address before pulling up near S.T.A.R. Labs.
JJack Kadere stepped out of the car after Caitlin Snow had dropped him off, watching as she drove back toward S.T.A.R. Labs. He didn't move on. If his guess was right, Barry Allen had just realized the truth—that lightning hadn't killed him, it had transformed him. And sooner or later, Barry would walk out of that building to test his new abilities.
Jack smiled faintly. Perfect timing. All he had to do was wait and then copy the Speed Force for himself.
An hour passed before a tall, lanky young man emerged from across the street. His bookish face and awkward mannerisms made him look completely ordinary, but Jack knew better.
Barry Allen.
"The King of Ls," Jack muttered with a grin. "Well, Your Highness, consider this your royal welcome.""
Without hesitation, he crossed the street. Barry looked distracted, lost in thought, when Jack suddenly threw an arm around his shoulders and steered him into a nearby alley.
"Hey! What the—!" Barry stumbled, nearly falling, before regaining his balance. He turned sharply, eyes flashing with irritation. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Robbery," Jack said flatly, his expression dead serious.
Barry blinked in shock. "Robbery? Wait, hold on—did you just say you're robbing me? You… want to rob me?"
For a moment he just stood there, pointing at himself like he'd hit the jackpot. Then his face lit up with pure excitement. "Oh man… out of everyone out here, you picked me! Do you even know what this means?"
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Are you actually happy about this?"
"Of course I'm happy!" Barry burst out, practically bouncing on his heels. "I mean, this is insane! Where's your weapon? Do you have a knife? A gun? What are you planning to use?"
Jack smirked and slowly raised his hand. "How about a fist?"
Barry's eyes widened, and he almost laughed. "A fist? You're serious? What is this, some kung fu movie? Fine—come on then. Hit me! Hit me right here!" He jabbed his finger against his own chest, practically begging for the fight.
The truth was obvious. Barry had just discovered his powers, and this was the first real test he'd been given. A mugging was practically a dream scenario for him. He wanted to see what his new speed could do.
Jack drew back his arm to swing.
In an instant, Barry moved.
The world seemed to slow to a crawl around him. The swing of Jack's fist stretched out like it was happening underwater, slowed down hundreds of times. Barry's eyes gleamed with exhilaration. To him, this was everything—the rush, the speed, the proof that he was no longer ordinary.
He darted in front of Jack and threw a punch of his own, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. In Barry's mind, he could already picture it: Jack being sent flying, collapsing in shock, and Barry standing victorious.
For the first time, Barry Allen was ready to prove he really was the fastest man alive.