Yellow streaks of lightning move through the city; beneath it, above it, everywhere searching relentlessly for one thing.
A person.
It darts around like a madman, desperate to find its target.
Something that, if left unchecked, would bring chaos by its mere existence.
Then, the yellow lightning stops. It has found what it was looking for.
A man wearing a pig mask, an apron, and clutching a butcher knife.
Blood stains his clothes and blade.
He tortures, lobotomizes, and toys with human bodies, all in pursuit of his twisted goal: perfection.
This man is Professor Pyg.
Supposedly, he operates in Gotham, but suddenly, he changed his location. This move only proves his stupidity, he knows The Flash is patrolling the city.
Every corner of the world knows about the incident of The Speed That Split the Storm.
Because of Pyg's recklessness, The Flash has found his current hideout, the one he's been running through the city to reach.
An abandoned factory.
The Flash stands in the center of the room, staring down at Pyg, who sits at a table, modifying the body of one of his victims.
When Pyg looks up, he sees The Flash standing in the darkness, utterly silent.
Just silence.
But as soon as Pyg blinks, The Flash vanishes into thin air.
Pyg thinks he's confused, hallucinating. He continues modifying the body, trying to shake off the unease.
Then, in a deep voice, The Flash whispers into Pyg's ear:
"You missed a spot."
Pyg instantly whips around, blade in hand, and shouts, "WHO'S THERE?!"
Silence. No one behind him.
He scans the room, grabs his flashlight, and sweeps it across every corner. After dealing with Batman, paranoia has sunk deep into him.
Minutes pass. Finding nothing, he shakes his head and resumes his work, forcing himself to focus. 'Must be fatigue', he tells himself.
He didn't act cautiously - he was used to hearing voices in his mind. This time, he assumed it was just another one of those phantom whispers.
Then at the edge of his vision, he sees The Flash standing motionless.
A blink. The Flash is gone.
Distracted, Pyg botches his stitches. Enraged, he drives his butcher knife into the table.
"No. NO, NO! I DON'T MISS!"
His hands tremble as his masterpiece lies ruined.
This was his final doll, the last one he needed to perfect. Furious, he tears off his mask and screams:
"SHOW YOURSELF! COME OUT, COWARD!"
And just like that, The Flash appears right in front of him.
Pyg gripped his butcher knife, ready to fight.
But the moment he blinked, The Flash vanished again.
"STOP PLAYING AROUND! PIGLETS - CATCH THAT RED BLUR!" Pyg screamed.
The "piglets" - humans he had modified, called Dollotrons - emerged from every doorway leading to the room. Obeying their master's command, they began searching frantically for the red blur, but found nothing.
The Flash observed the horrifying number of modified people before him. His enhanced hearing picked up their pitiful squeals, transforming into clear, tortured words:
"Help..."
"Kill me..."
"Make this stop..."
"I don't want to live anymore..."
Closing his eyes, The Flash made his decision. They didn't deserve to exist like this.
'May this bring you peace,' he thought.
With lightning precision, he struck - a single, merciful blow to each head. One by one.
To Pyg, it appeared as flashes of lightning felling his dolls, until only he remained, standing alone against The Flash.
The Flash looked down at the fallen bodies, guilt weighing heavily on him. Logically, he knew this wasn't his fault - he had arrived too late to save them. But in his heart, he still felt responsible.
As The Flash stood over the fallen Dollotrons, a grim realization settled in his mind: 'So this is how every Flash feels when they're too late to save people. I'll have to live with this from now on.'
Pyg swallowed hard, knowing his time had come.
The Flash surged forward - only for a figure to drop down in front of him. He instantly recognized the symbol, the suit, the auburn hair.
Only one person matched that description.
"Batgirl?" The Flash muttered as the helmetless heroine landed before him, her long auburn hair flowing free.
But he didn't hesitate. Reaching Pyg first, he placed his vibrating hand against the madman's head.
The high-frequency vibrations sent Pyg's brain crashing against his skull - over and over - until the organ liquefied inside its bony prison.
Pyg's body collapsed lifeless to the ground.
The Flash felt no remorse. In his mind, he'd simply stopped a monster from creating more helpless victims.
"Why did you kill him?" Batgirl asked, wanting to understand his perspective.
"He deserved it," The Flash replied, staring at the moon through the broken factory window. "Now no one else will suffer his torture."
Batgirl was taken aback by his response. In her mind, she questioned: 'This justification makes sense... so why does Bruce forbid killing?'
The Flash turned to face her. "Tell your boss this - if any of Gotham's rogues enter my city, I won't show them the same mercy."
Before Batgirl could blink, The Flash vanished - taking all the bodies with him. She scanned the empty factory in disbelief.
"Batman, we have a situation," Batgirl said, touching her earpiece.
"What happened?" Bruce Wayne's voice responded - the man behind Batman's mask.
"Professor Pyg is dead. The Scarlet Speedster executed him."
Bruce fell silent for several seconds. His mind immediately began formulating contingency plans.
"He also wanted me to warn you," Batgirl continued. "Any Gotham criminals who come to his city won't receive leniency. What's our response, Batman?"
"...Return to Gotham, Batgirl," Bruce finally answered. "We'll discuss this later."
As Batgirl and Batman conversed, The Flash worked swiftly elsewhere. He created a massive blaze, carefully disposing of the corpses to ensure no possibility of revival - for Pyg or his twisted creations.
Though unaware of magical resurrection methods, he took no chances.
Watching the flames consume the remains, The Flash exhaled slowly. "Be at peace now," he whispered.
As flesh turned to ash, a dry chuckle escaped him. "Never imagined I'd be doing this. Just weeks ago, I was a regular university student." His gaze lingered on the fire. "Still don't know why the Speed Force chose me... but at least now my life has purpose."
Despite having arrived in this world mere days ago, the experiences already felt like years.
His smile faded as thoughts of Reverse Flash surfaced. "No rest for the wicked," he muttered. "Once this is done, back to the equation. Need to push beyond my limits."
When only ashes remained, he changed into civilian clothes and headed home.
The front door clicked shut behind him.
"Barry?" Joe's voice came from the kitchen, mug in hand. "It's late. Shouldn't you be asleep?"
Barry turned, offering a tired smile. "Could ask you the same thing."
Joe chuckled. "How was work?"
"Same as always." Barry moved toward the stairs. "Heading to bed. Exhausted."
"Sleep well."
"You too."
Behind his closed bedroom door, Barry immediately resumed research. His supercharged body thrummed with restless energy.
He rubbed his temples. "Focus, Allen. You've got this."