A brown-haired teen with bright blue eyes lay propped up in a hospital bed, staring blankly at the television across the room.
The news anchor's voice cut through the silence.
"It has now been two weeks since the death of the Flash now confirmed to be Barry Allen who perished during a mysterious crisis."
Jace Wilder felt his stomach drop.
His fingers curled into the hospital sheets as the words sank in. His heart raced not from fear, but disbelief.
"…No way," he muttered under his breath.
Then he mutters "I'm in the DC universe."
Flashback
Rain poured down in sheets as Jace walked home from work, phone in hand, earbuds in. The final episode of My Hero Academia played on his screen, the credits rolling.
He sighed, rain dripping from his hair.
"I can't believe it's over," he said to no one. "Over a decade of peak anime… gone."
Thunder rumbled overhead and the rain intensified, soaking him through as he grimaced.
"I should've asked Dad to pick me up," Jace muttered. "But no. Had to be a stubborn asshole."
Another crack of thunder echoed and then everything stopped and the rain froze midair.
Every drop hung suspended, glittering under the streetlights.
Jace's breath hitched.
"What the…."
A voice echoed around him. Not loud. Not soft. Just… absolute.
"You will do."
Reality snapped back into place and lightning split the sky and pain exploded through Jace's body as he was hurled backward, crashing into a wall and then darkness.
Flashback Ends
Jace stared at the television, his reflection faintly visible in the dark screen as the news segment ended.
"What is going on?" he muttered, rubbing his face. "This has to be a dream. Or a coma. Or yeah, definitely a coma."
The hospital room was quiet, save for the faint hum of machines then the door opened.
A nurse stepped inside, holding a small metal tray stacked with medical supplies. She froze when she saw Jace sitting upright.
"Oh!" Her eyes widened. "You're awake?"
Her foot caught on the edge of the doorframe and the tray tilted and the world… broke.
The clatter of metal never came and instead, everything slowed to a crawl and the nurse's gasp stretched into a warped, drawn-out sound. The tray slipped from her hands, syringes and instruments drifting through the air as if suspended in water. Even the dust in the sunlight seemed frozen.
Jace's breath caught.
"…What?" he whispered.
His heart pounded but his body felt calm then he lifted his hand and it moved normally.
Jace's eyes widened as he slowly turned his head. The nurse was still falling, her expression locked in shock, moving impossibly slowly.
"Oh. Oh no," Jace said. "No, no, no…this is not happening." He swung his legs over the side of the bed.
The movement was effortless too effortless.
Jace stepped forward and suddenly the room shifted.
The floor vanished beneath him in a rush of motion. The air screamed past his ears as the world snapped into crystal-clear focus. Every detail sharpened. The weave of the nurse's uniform, the individual drops of liquid spilling from a vial, the faint tremor in her fingers.
Jace stumbled to a stop beside her, staring at his own hands.
"I'm… moving," he said slowly. "I'm actually moving."
A nervous laugh escaped him. "Okay. Okay, Jace. Stay calm. You can panic later."
He reached out, gently steadying the nurse, grabbing the tray before it could hit the floor.
"Don't freak out," he muttered to himself. "Please don't freak out."
Then sound slammed back into place.
The tray clattered loudly as Jace caught it at the last second. The nurse gasped as her feet hit the floor, her balance suddenly restored.
She blinked, confused. "I….did I almost fall?"
Jace stood frozen in front of her, tray in hand, heart racing.
"…Yep," he said weakly. "Nailed it." The nurse stared at him, then at the tray, then back at him and says "You… caught that."
Jace swallowed.
"Yeah," he said, forcing a crooked smile. "Guess I've got good reflexes."
She frowned, clearly unconvinced, then shook her head. "I-I should call the doctor."
As she hurried out of the room, Jace slowly looked down at his hands again. His smile faded, replaced by awe and fear.
"…I'm fast," he whispered.
He then looks at the news still talking about the Flash and Jace stared at the screen witv the words barely registered but then something clicked and slowly… a grin spread across his face.
Not a heroic smile and not a confident one but childish grin.
"…Wait," he whispered.
He looked down at his hands.
At the hospital gown draped awkwardly over his skinny frame and then back at the TV.
"I got struck by lightning," he said quietly. "I slowed down time. I moved." His grin widened and he says "I can be a superhero."
The idea hit him like a punch to the chest and it was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
He laughed under his breath. "Oh my god. I'm gonna die. But… still. Superhero." A moment later, reality crept back in and he glanced down at the gown again.
"…Okay," Jace muttered. "Step one: not doing this in a hospital dress."
A few blocks away from the hospital, Jace slipped into a narrow alley. The sounds of the city dulled, replaced by distant traffic and the hum of streetlights.
He took a breath then another.
"Okay," he whispered. "How do speedsters do this again?"
He closed his eyes, thinking of every scene he'd ever seen of anime protagonists powering up, Marvel heroes bracing themselves before a leap.
"Runner's stance," he muttered.
Jace bent forward, one foot back, fingers brushing the pavement.
His heart began to race and at first, nothing happened."…C'mon," he whispered. "Do the thing."
Then he felt it a warmth in his chest.
A vibration under his skin. Like electricity humming through his veins and Jace's eyes snapped open.
Orange lightning crackled around him, arcing across the alley walls. Reflected in a nearby window, his eyes glowed faintly with the same energy.
"Oh-oh wow," he breathed. "That's… that's new."
The world sharpened. The city seemed to slow but not completely, but enough.
Jace swallowed.
"Don't trip," he told himself. "Please don't trip."
He pushed off and the alley vanished in a blur.
Wind roared past him as the city exploded into motion, buildings streaking by, streetlights bending into lines of gold and white. Then Jace laughed and it was a unhinged.
"I'M RUNNING," he shouted, voice tearing through the air. "I'M ACTUALLY RUNNING!"
Orange lightning trailed behind him as he tore through Central City, faster than thought, faster than fear.
Jace skidded to a stop in a narrow alley, breathless and laughing.
"Oh my god," he said, pacing in a tight circle. "I'm fast. I'm really fast. This is-this is insane."
He jumped straight up, fist pumping the air.
"Yes! I knew anime training montages would….."
A sharp crack echoed through the air and Jace froze.
A second later, a plume of black smoke rose above the rooftops. Sirens wailed in the distance and his smile vanished.
Across the street, flames licked up the side of an apartment building, windows glowing orange as smoke poured into the sky. People screamed. Someone shouted for help.
Jace took a step back.
"…Nope," he said immediately. "No, absolutely not. That's a real fire. I am not qualified for that."
He turned to leave then stopped.
Barry would be there already.
The thought hit him hard that Barry Allen was dead so there was no Flash.
Jace swallowed.
"I'm not Barry," he muttered. "I'm not Wally. I don't know what I'm doing."
A woman's scream cut through the air.
"…But I'm here."
He clenched his fists.
"Okay," he said shakily. "Okay, Jace. Don't die. That's the goal."
A clothing store sat on the corner, its windows already rattling from the heat. Then Jace vanished and reappeared inside in a burst of wind and shattered hangers.
"Sorry! Sorry!" he blurted to no one as he grabbed the first things he could find and he grabbed a red hoodie, dark pants, gloves. Then He stopped in front of a mirror and he stared at his reflection.
"…I look like the Flash from Smallville," he said flatly.
Jace zipped back outside and faced the burning building and flames roared as he ran straight into the inferno.
Heat slammed into him like a wall with smoke burning his lungs.
"Okay," he coughed, sprinting up the stairwell. "This is way hotter than it looks on TV."
A door burst open ahead of him and he was a family huddled inside and it was two parents and a crying little girl.
They screamed when they saw him.
"Hi!" Jace said too loudly. "Not a ghost. Definitely not a demon. I'm here to help wow, that sounded better in my head."
The dad stared. "Who…what are you?!"
"Fast," Jace said. "Very fast. Also bad at introductions."
He scooped the child into his arms.
"Hang on actually don't hang on, that's dangerous, just okay!"
In a blur of orange lightning, they were outside.
The girl blinked. "Mom?"
"Safe!" Jace said, setting her down. "Everyone breathe. Preferably away from the fire." Then he vanished again.
Inside, the building groaned, beams cracking under the heat.
Jace raced from floor to floor, pulling people from smoke-filled hallways, dragging unconscious tenants, carrying an elderly man who kept yelling "I LEFT THE OVEN ON!"
"I promise that is not today's biggest problem!" Jace shouted back.
A support beam collapsed inches behind him and Jace barely made it out before the floor gave way.
Outside, firefighters stared in stunned silence as people kept appearing out of thin air.
Jace skidded to a stop, panting.
"Okay," he wheezed. "Everyone accounted for. No casualties. I think."
A woman grabbed his arm. "Thank you. Thank you so much….."
Jace panicked.
"Oh! Uh yeah! No problem! Totally part of the job! Which I don't technically have yet!"
She just stared.
"…Right."
"Tough crowd," Jace muttered.
Sirens grew louder.
Cameras flashed.
Jace's head snapped up.
"Oh no."
Across the street, a reporter lowered her camera, eyes wide as she stared at the photo she'd just taken she saw a red hoodie, orange lightning, a blur of motion frozen in time.
Jace waved awkwardly.
"…Hi?"
Then he was gone in a streak of orange lightning vanished into the city.
The reporter looked down at her camera again.
"…Central City," she whispered. "The Flash is back."
Coast City
The bar was dim, lit by flickering neon and the low glow of televisions mounted above the shelves. The smell of alcohol and old grease hung in the air.
A man in a worn flight jacket sat alone at the counter, nursing a glass of whiskey. The name JORDAN was stitched into the patch over his chest, frayed from years of use.
Hal Jordan barely tasted the drink.
The TV overhead changed channels, settling on a breaking news banner.
"Central City: Mystery Speedster Saves Dozens From Apartment Fire"
Hal's eyes lifted.
Footage played and it blurry and chaotic but unmistakable. A streak of orange lightning, a red-clad figure pulling people from a burning building faster than the eye could track.
The bartender glanced up. "Huh. Guess Central City's got a new guy."
Hal's jaw tightened. Then another clip rolled with firefighters standing in shock, civilians staring after the vanishing blur.
"Eyewitnesses say the unidentified hero may be connected to the Flash, who died during the Crisis two weeks ago…"
Hal's glass hit the counter a little harder than intended.
"Yeah," he muttered. "Connected." He leaned forward, eyes locked on the screen.
"That symbol means something," Hal said under his breath. "It's not a costume you just throw on."
The reporter continued, words muffled by the pounding in Hal's ears. "This isn't some street-level vigilante," Hal growled. "That's Barry's legacy."
He drained the rest of his drink and stood.
"Someone's trying to wear Barry's colors," he said, anger flashing in his eyes. "And that won't happen on my watch."
The bartender frowned. "You okay, man?"
Hal didn't answer.
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a simple green ring. The emerald gem glinted under the bar's light.
Hal slipped it onto his finger.
"Time to work," he said quietly.
He stepped outside and the night air was cool against his skin.
"Green Lantern of Sector 2814," Hal said, voice steady now. "Report in." Then emerald light erupted around him.
Energy wrapped around his body in a flash, forming a sleek green-and-black suit, the Lantern symbol blazing on his chest.
Hal lifted off the ground, hovering effortlessly and he looked toward the horizon toward Central City. "Hang on, Barry," he said softly. "I've got this."
With a sonic boom of green light, Hal Jordan shot into the sky.
Central City
The warehouse was quiet except for the hum of old machinery and the flicker of a television balanced on a crate.
The news played on the screen, footage looping again and again.
A blur of red.
Orange lightning.
People being carried out of a burning building.
"Authorities are calling him a mystery speedster," the reporter said. "A possible successor to the Flash."
A man leaned back in a metal chair, boots propped up on another crate. He smiled but not wide or excited but amused.
"Well, I'll be," Leonard Snart murmured. "Didn't think Central City could move on that fast." He reached for a phone and tapped a number.
It rang twice."Yeah?" came a gruff voice on the other end.
"Mick," Snart said calmly. "You see the news?"
A pause.
"…Yeah," Mick Rory replied. "That a speedster?"
Snart's smile sharpened.
"Looks like it," he said. "And he's new. Sloppy. No rhythm."
He stood, shutting off the TV.
"Which means," Snart continued, slipping the phone into his pocket, "we've got a job to do."
Mick chuckled low on the other end. "Heh. Thought you might say that."
Snart grabbed a heavy parka from a nearby rack and shrugged it on. He pulled a pair of blue-lensed goggles down over his eyes.
He crossed the warehouse and picked up a sleek, white weapon resting on a table.
The gun hummed to life, glowing an icy blue. Snart checked its charge, satisfied.
"Central City just lost its Flash," he said coolly. "Now some kid thinks he can fill the gap."
The weapon crackled with cold energy.
"Let's remind him who owns this city."
Leonard Snart stepped into the shadows and Captain Cold was back in business.