Tyler stood alone by a quiet river, the moon casting silver ripples across its surface. Trees rustled in the breeze, their leaves dancing gently around him. The hum in his body began to fade—his cells slowly stabilizing from the overload of speed, clones, and wind.
Air swirled softly around his arms, responding to something he hadn't consciously willed.
His brows furrowed.
"…This," he whispered.
He raised a hand—and with a thought, the wind twisted, spiraled, obeyed.
He clenched his fist, then opened it slowly. A gentle cyclone, no larger than a basketball, formed above his palm. It whirled harmlessly, swirling the nearby grass, and vanished a second later into thin air.
That shouldn't be possible.
"That guy…" he murmured. "The one I punched out of the tornado… this feels like his power."
He stared at his hand.
Then the thoughts began connecting.
"Clones," he whispered, heart pounding. "Super speed. And now… weather control."
It hit him like a shockwave.
"Those powers… aren't all mine," he said aloud, breath catching in his throat. "They're not mine."
His mind reeled back through time. That first strange reaction in his body—when he bumped into someone in the hospital hallway.
"That man in black… I felt something then."
The next moment: shoving Barry out of the way during the explosion at the power plant.
His body had reacted then too—tingled, surged, vibrated.
Then again tonight… when his punch connected with the tornado controller.
"It's like… like each time I touch someone, I… have their power."
His eyes widened. He took a step back, then another.
"I think my real ability is to copy other people's powers…"
The words felt ridiculous, impossible—but everything pointed toward it. It wasn't speed. It wasn't clones. It wasn't weather control.
It was them all—borrowed, stolen, copied.
He knelt down by the riverbank, scooping water into his hands to ground himself. The cold stung his skin.
He stood up again, voice quiet.
"I need to be sure."
He needed one more test. One more powered person.
Then it clicked.
"Wait."
His eyes narrowed, replaying tonight's events in his head.
Barry.
When he shoved him—right after that, he had felt it. The surge. The connection.
"That voice… it was him."
He stumbled back, eyes wild with realization.
"Barry. That was him. That speedster!"
He laughed, disbelieving.
"This is nuts…"
The air danced around him as he paced.
"So Barry got powers. And the guy I bumped into… he must've been the one with the clones."
He clenched his fists.
"If I can find him… I can test this theory. For real."
His gaze lifted to the stars.
"…Really. This is crazy."
And then, with a gust of wind and a crackle of white lightning—
—Tyler vanished, racing back home.
...
Back in the shed, silence was broken by a weak groan.
The blonde man stirred, face bloodied, ribs bruised, lungs burning. Slowly, shakily, Clyde Murdon got back to his feet. That punch—he could still feel it crushing through his bones, like lightning had cracked open his chest.
If Tyler hadn't held back, he would've been dead.
His eyes darted around the ruined shed.
He was gone.
Gone.
Fear gripped him—true, raw fear. Whoever that white-trail freak was, if he came back, Clyde was as good as dead.
Without wasting a second, he turned and ran.
"Guys, Murdon is running away!" Barry's voice echoed through his earpiece as he zoomed down the street, wind trailing behind him.
Back at S.T.A.R. Labs, Caitlin Snow, with Cisco Ramon beside her, leaned over the console, eyes scanning Barry's vitals. "Barry, be careful! Your energy levels are still low from earlier—"
"I've got this!" Barry called out.
He caught up to Murdon in a blink—but just as he reached for him—
WHIP!
A slicing gust of wind slammed into Barry like a whip of steel, sending him flying across the street and crashing into a pile of trash cans.
Clyde stood his ground, hands outstretched, wind swirling around him like a furious storm.
"It's you!" he spat. "Where's your friend, huh?! Hiding like a coward?!"
His pride stung—he had been humiliated once tonight, and he refused to be humiliated again by this cocky red-suited punk.
"You think you're stronger than me?! Just because your friend smacked me around?!"
He roared, thrusting his arms to the sky.
Wind howled.
A tornado began to form, fast—twice the size, twice the fury.
"I AM A GOD!!"
The vortex screamed into existence, tearing up concrete, trees, cars—everything within reach.
Barry pushed himself up, wincing, and then took off—running around the tornado in tight circles, trying to destabilize it.
"Barry, what's going on?!" Caitlin shouted, panic in her voice as she watched his heart rate spike.
"Murdon created another tornado! And it's stronger! I don't think I can—"
A calm, steady voice cut through the chaos.
"You can, Barry."
Barry blinked.
"…Dr. Wells?"
Inside S.T.A.R. Labs, Dr. Harrison Wells sat motionless in his wheelchair. He removed his glasses, looking not at the monitor, but into his own thoughts.
"Listen to me, Barry. I'm responsible for all of this. The accelerator explosion… the people who got hurt… I started it all."
He sighed.
"And when I saw you, I didn't see a hero. I saw a chance to prove I was still right. But you… you're more than that."
Barry's breathing slowed, his focus sharpening.
"You can stop this, Barry."
Dr. Wells leaned forward slightly, intensity in his voice.
"Run, Barry. Run."
Barry's eyes narrowed. His lips curled into a confident smile.
And he ran.
Faster than he ever had before.
A streak of red lightning carved through the air as Barry circled the tornado, faster and faster, until the winds began to collapse inward. The vortex destabilized, shuddered—then exploded in a storm of dust and debris.
Silence.
"Barry?" Caitlin called out through the comms, her voice tight with worry.
Barry groaned, staggering back to his feet. "I'm okay."
But Clyde Murdon wasn't finished.
"Hey!" he called out, staggering forward, blood in his teeth, fury in his eyes. He raised a pistol with shaking hands. "I didn't know there were others like me… you and that guy…"
Barry's eyes hardened. "I'm not like you, Murdon. You're a murderer."
Murdon's finger tightened on the trigger—aiming at Barry's heart.
BANG!
The shot never came from him.
Clyde Murdon collapsed, a clean bullet wound through his chest.
Barry turned, startled.
Behind him stood Joe West, gun raised, face grim.
"Barry!" Caitlin called out, having heard the shot.
Barry exhaled. "It's over. I'm fine."
Joe slowly lowered the weapon, walking over to Barry.
In the lab, Dr. Wells silently put his glasses back on.
Another speedster.
Another variable.
He stared at the screen, a thoughtful glint behind his lenses.
"…Interesting."
To be cotinued...
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How was this chapter, guys?
Also, the reason I wrote so many chapters today is because I won't be able to write for a week. Hope it doesn't bother you that much waiting a week for the next chapter.