"Please tell me you found something," Barry said as he stepped into the cortex. His jaw was tight, fists clenched at his sides, anger barely kept on a leash.
Caitlin and Cisco exchanged a look before turning to him, their expressions grim.
"No," Cisco said quietly. "Nothing so far."
Two days. That was how long it had been since their last solid lead on the meta tearing through Central City. Two days of patrols, cameras, scans, and coming up empty every single time. It was starting to feel like they were chasing smoke.
To make matters worse, the killings were escalating fast. Just that morning, two bodies had been recovered, double the usual count.
"Where's Dr. Wells?" Barry asked. If Caitlin and Cisco couldn't find the meta, maybe he could offer some insight into the matter.
"He's not currently on the premises," Caitlin said quietly. Her expression spoke volumes. Technically, all of this was their fault. They had built the particle accelerator. They had turned it on despite the people's protests.
Now innocent people were suffering, dying because of what they had done. She was barely able to sleep at night. It was impossible not to feel the weight of it.
The same could be said for Cisco. Even his usual comical demeanor was nowhere to be found. Everyone carried their guilt in their own way.
The man-bat was still out there, bloodthirsty and escalating. Danton Black had vanished after the incident at Simon Stagg's awards ceremony, slipping into hiding, biding his time and waiting for the right moment to strike. And then there was the third one, a metahuman they knew almost nothing about.
The man-bat's kill count kept climbing at an alarming rate. Its hunting patterns were completely unpredictable, making it impossible for the team to properly triangulate its location.
The unknown metahuman had disappeared entirely, leaving behind no trace, no clues, nothing. A ghost.
And these were only the ones they knew about. There could be more lurking in the city, waiting to surface.
~~~
"—continuing coverage tonight as Central City police investigate a string of brutal overnight murders," the anchor said, her tone measured "Authorities have confirmed that two additional victims were discovered early this morning, bringing the total number of fatalities to seven in less than a week."
The screen shifted to grainy footage of flashing red and blue lights, yellow tape hanging everywhere. An alley. A sidewalk, Faces blurred out of respect or fear.
"Police have not released details regarding the cause of death," the anchor continued, "but sources confirm that the injuries do not match any known weapons. Residents are urged to remain vigilant and avoid unnecessary travel after dark...."
"This is really getting out of hand," Jennifer said, her expression tightening with worry. It wasn't just the murders anymor, it was the fact that people with reality-defying abilities were out there committing crimes, and the government couldn't do a thing about it.
"Don't fret. It's just a matter of time," Victor said from across the kitchen counter. By now, he was running out of reassuring words, and he suspected they had stopped working anyway.
It was still early in the morning, the kind of quiet hour where the house felt half asleep. He was on breakfast duty today. The pan in front of him sizzled softly, oil popping as it spread across the surface.
He cracked a few eggs with one hand, letting them slide into the heat. The smell rose almost at once, warm and familiar. He stirred them slowly, then reached for chopped onions and peppers, tossing them in. They hissed when they hit the pan, sharp and fresh, cutting through the egg smell.
On the side, bread toasted in the pan, soaked lightly in butter until it turned golden. He flipped it once, watching the edges darken just right. The whole kitchen smelled alive.
Just a few steps away, Jennifer watched Victor with quiet amusement, a small smile on her lips. Her eyes followed him closely, as if she was trying to remember every little thing he did.
"What, why are you staring?" Victor asked, sheepish, suddenly aware of how long she'd been looking at him.
"Nothing," Jennifer said. Her expression softened, something distant creeping into her eyes. "It just… brings back memories."
Victor knew exactly which ones.
He let out a quiet breath, eyes dropping to the pan as his thoughts drifted. The first time his memories had awakened. The emotions that hit him all at once, raw and merciless. Grief layered on grief, He'd thought it might crush him back then.
"You know....I don't go a day without thinking about them," Victor said, flipping a pancake, his tone casual but a little too practiced.
Jennifer nodded slowly. "Yeah," she said. "I miss them too." Her eyes grew slightly teary.
Right on cue, two figures came running down the stairs, cutting straight through the sappy moment.
"No running on the stairs," Jennifer said quickly, but neither of them slowed down.
The two burst into the kitchen, faces bright with their usual warmth.
Victor clicked his tongue, reaching to pat their heads. "You two, listen to your mom. No running on the stairs and definitely not in the kitchen."
They nodded in perfect unison, then turned their attention to Jennifer.
"Seats," she said, already moving toward the stove. "Breakfast will be ready soon."
Once they were out of earshot, Jennifer turned to Victor and shook her head.
"Why do they always listen to you more?" she asked, folding her arms with exaggerated seriousness.
Victor chuckled, leaning back slightly. "Well, you can't really blame them. I mean, just look at me," he said, grin smug.
Jennifer immediately burst into laughter, doubling over as she slapped her knees, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. "Oh please."
"What?" Victor asked, genuinely confused. It wasn't like he was wrong. He knew how he came across. By most standards, he was good-looking, charismatic, and carried himself with an easy authority.
Even before becoming a mini God, his presence was authoritative. Additionally the twins had always liked impressing him. It made it easier for him to influence them.
After her laughter finally faded, Jennifer shook her head at Victor. "You're so full of yourself."
Victor only smiled, completely unbothered. "Can you blame me?" He gestured at himself from head to toe, as if presenting an exhibit.
Jennifer paused, eyes lingering for half a second too long. He really is handsome, she admitted to herself. She clicked her tongue and looked away. "Just don't let it go to your head," she said, rolling her eyes.
It didn't take long for Victor to finish breakfast. Plates were set down, food disappeared, and conversation drifted through a handful of easy, unimportant topics.
Once they were done, the twins scattered off to occupy themselves. It was the weekend, after all. Jennifer watched as they tore into the living room.
"…Do you know when their powers will awaken?" she asked quietly, turning back to Victor.
Victor's gaze lingered on the twins in the distance before he answered. "Not exactly. A year at the earliest. Maybe longer." He shook his head slightly. "There's no clear date."
"Hm." She said nothing more, simply staring at the two of them. Victor caught the subtle shift behind her calm expression and sighed. She was worried again.
"They'll be fine," he said, though the words did little to ease her concern.
"And how are you always so sure?" she asked, her gaze sharpening as it settled on him.
Victor hesitated for a beat. "I just have a feeling," he said at last.
He didn't mention the truth. That he was already protecting them from the shadows. That his creations kept constant watch. He didn't tell her he was considering bringing a dog into the house, something that could guard them openly, or that he was still debating whether transferring a portion of his bio-gear to them was crossing a line or simply being prepared.
Jennifer's gaze sharpened as she looked at him, something odd in her eyes maybe even suspicion.
"Right," she said. "A feeling."
Victor sighed, though only to himself. Keeping his real abilities from her was starting to feel wrong. Uncomfortable. At this point, he couldn't even see a good reason to keep lying. If anything, it was turning into a weight he carried around for no reason at all. He just needed the right moment to tell her.
He almost wanted to smack himself for hiding it in the first place. But then the reason came back to him. The same one that always did.
He'd been afraid. Afraid that if she knew he could manipulate life at its most fundamental level, it wouldn't amaze her, but do the opposite.
----
Hey guys, sorry I haven't uploaded in a while 🙏. I've been taking some time to reset my mindset and reconnect with why I started writing in the first place. It began as something fun and driven by curiosity, but over time it started to feel like a chore. I realized that shift was hurting my creativity, so I stepped back to refocus and enjoy the process again.