The Vengeful Meta

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"Stop trying to force it. Let it come naturally," Barry advised, watching as Pietro struggled to make progress. Frustration was written all over Pietro's face, and it was clear that any advice Barry had given him so far had gone in one ear and out the other.

"Here, watch," Barry said, drawing Pietro's attention as he stepped toward the board. "When you vibrate at the natural frequency of air, your body—your cells—enter an excited state. That's what allows you to phase." To demonstrate, Barry pressed his hand against the board, phasing through it effortlessly.

"Okay, now it's your turn," Barry said, stepping back to give Pietro some space.

Pietro exhaled deeply, stretching his arms before focusing intently on the board. "Vibrate at the natural frequency of air… cells… body… got it," he muttered under his breath. With a determined thrust, he shot his hand toward the board, only to be met with a resounding thud.

"Ouhh, hmm," Pietro grunted, clutching his hand in pain. "Maybe I'm just not cut out for this speedster stuff," he muttered, rubbing his sore knuckles with a frustrated sigh.

"Don't worry, you'll get it in no time," Barry reassured him, his tone encouraging. "You're already way ahead of where I was when I first started. It's just a matter of time and practice."

Pietro glanced at him skeptically, but Barry's words seemed to reignite a flicker of determination. Still, Barry's own thoughts were elsewhere—he was eager to push forward with his own training. This session, originally meant to help Pietro, had unexpectedly given Barry insights that he could use for his own growth.

Barry cast a quick look at Pietro before stepping back. "Keep at it. I've got something I need to take care of, but don't give up," he said before speeding off, leaving Pietro to continue his attempts. With that, Barry gave Pietro a reassuring tap on the shoulder before quietly retreating to a corner to focus on his own training.

He closed his eyes, tuning into the flow of Speed Force energy around him, working to refine his ability to sense and manipulate it with greater precision.

The pattern between Pietro and the board continued for another thirty minutes. Barry occasionally stepped in to demonstrate the technique, sometimes guiding Pietro to feel the sensation of phasing firsthand.

But no matter how hard Pietro tried, he just couldn't seem to break through the barrier holding him back.

Meanwhile, in the med bay, Wally and Caitlin were deep in conversation. Wally had always known Caitlin as compassionate and sharp, but spending this uninterrupted time with her highlighted qualities he'd somehow overlooked before.

He couldn't help but think about how much Barry had missed out on. Not that he begrudged Barry's happiness with Iris, of course, but something about Caitlin's presence exuded a comforting warmth.

It wasn't that Wally's heart had shifted toward her—no, he was certain of that. Still, he wondered idly: if they had been closer in age, could things have been different? The thought lingered briefly before he brushed it aside, choosing instead to appreciate the moment for what it was.

Anyways, Wally was currently reviewing Caitlin's blood sample, and he couldn't help but notice something intriguing—it bore a striking resemblance to the blood of Flashpoint metahumans.

The key difference between Flashpoint metahumans and those in the current timeline lay in their origins. In the existing timeline, the STAR Labs particle accelerator explosion had bathed Central City in dark matter, acting as a catalyst that forcefully unlocked or accelerated latent genetic anomalies, giving rise to metahumans. However, in Flashpoint, no such dark matter event had occurred, yet metahumans still existed.

What set the two groups apart was their physiology. Metahumans born from the particle accelerator explosion possessed a unique trait: their pituitary gland produced minute amounts of dark matter to sustain their abilities. This biological adaptation was absent in Flashpoint metahumans, whose abilities seemed to stem from an entirely different mechanism.

Wally mused over this discovery, his mind racing with possibilities. If the dark matter produced by the pituitary gland could somehow be neutralized or erased, it might theoretically strip a metahuman of their powers. In other words, this could serve as a potential "cure" for metahuman abilities.

But Caitlin was vastly different from both of these types of metahumans. Her metagene didn't come from external catalysts like dark matter or latent genetic triggers; it originated from her father. In his desperate attempts to cure his ALS, he inadvertently created the frost metagene. It seemed likely that he had been developing an ice-based healing drug—something designed to slow or reverse the effects of his degenerative condition. Instead, he unintentionally sparked an evolutionary leap in his human cells, one that fundamentally altered their physiology.

This genetic anomaly was passed down to Caitlin, along with her ice-based abilities. The reason for the Snow family's distinctive alter egos, such as Caitlin's Killer Frost persona, could also be tied to this anomaly.

It was possible that the mutation not only granted her powers but also affected the neural pathways responsible for identity and behavior, giving rise to a second, distinct personality.

This meant her situation was unique, and any "cure" that worked on regular metahumans would likely have no effect on her. If she were to find a solution, it would require an entirely different approach—one tailored to the Snow family's unique genetic makeup.

Wally sighed internally as these thoughts raced through his mind. Not even a split second had passed, yet he had already pieced together several key details. Caitlin's metagene was entirely distinct from both normal and Flashpoint metahumans, primarily because it was man-made.

Her abilities stemmed from her father's experiments, not natural evolution or external catalysts like dark matter.

Still, the difference wasn't insurmountable. If he dedicated himself to the task, Wally was confident he could develop a cure in less than a month. But that wasn't his plan.

For now, he'd pretend it was a long and complex process, a necessary deception to preserve parts of the timeline he knew were important—particularly the events involving a fragment of the Philosopher's Stone.

"So, do you think you can help?" Caitlin's voice broke his train of thought. She stared at him, her eyes filled with hope.

"Yeah, it's definitely possible to make a cure," Wally said, watching Caitlin's face light up with suppressed excitement. "But the only thing is—it'll take time. Still, I'm confident I can come up with something."

Caitlin's excitement didn't dim at all. In fact, her smile only grew brighter at his confirmation. The assurance that there was hope for a cure was more than enough for her right now. She felt a renewed sense of optimism, though she had no intention of stopping her own efforts. It was always better to have more people working toward the same goal than to do it alone.

"Thank you, Wally. I really appreciate your help," she said sincerely.

"No problem," Wally replied with a slight smile. After taking a sample of her blood, he excused himself and headed back to the Speed Lab.

As he stepped in, his gaze landed on Barry, who was meditating in a corner. Wally paused, his brow furrowing slightly as he observed his mentor. One thing became immediately clear: the energy flowing through Barry was steadily increasing, even under the restraints of the cuffs he wore.

Now Wally was certain—Barry could already move at superhuman speeds, albeit at the level he'd been when he first gained his powers. In short, Barry was making solid progress. Pietro, on the other hand, was still struggling to grasp the basics.

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Meanwhile, in Central City, Luigi's restaurant had been cordoned off with barricades and yellow tape. A body had been found inside, and the gruesome nature of the scene quickly demanded the attention of Barry, Joe, and Julian.

"How bad is it?" Julian asked as he arrived at the scene with Barry.

"You'll know when you see it," Joe replied curtly, leading them into the restaurant. The crime scene was heavily guarded, with officers ensuring no one disturbed the investigation.

"Yikes… that's ghastly," Barry muttered as his eyes landed on the body. The corpse looked mummified, its skin darkened and shrunken, as though every ounce of moisture and fat had been drained from it. It was as if the victim's vitality had been eroded entirely in a matter of hours. Yet, despite the horrific sight, there was no smell of decay.

"When was the body found?" Julian questioned, leaning closer to inspect the victim.

"Roughly eight hours ago," Joe replied, his words met with skeptical glances from both Barry and Julian.

"Eight hours? That's not possible," Julian retorted, his tone sharp with disbelief.

"That's what it says in the report. He was the chef here—Stuart Holzman—and the owner confirmed he was working last night," Joe affirmed, holding up his notes for emphasis.

"That's a lot of damage for such a short amount of time," Barry remarked, crouching beside the body for a closer look. His mind raced, connecting dots as a possible explanation began to form.

"We thinking this was done by a meta?" Joe asked, his expression grim.

Barry stood, his gaze lingering on the victim. "It's possible," he said, his voice thoughtful. "We'll run an analysis to confirm...."