He opened a new document on his laptop and started writing. Not copying DeVoe's notes. Creating his own theoretical framework based on what he'd learned.
*Adaptive Neural Enhancement Theory v1.0*
*Core Principle:* Neural enhancement must be temporary and non-invasive to prevent dependency and degradation.
*Mechanism:* Targeted electromagnetic pulses stimulate specific neural pathways related to cognitive processing while simultaneously promoting natural neurogenesis and synaptic plasticity.
Enhancement fades gradually as the brain adapts and strengthens its own pathways.
*Result:* Each session of enhancement trains the brain to function at higher levels naturally. Over time, the user becomes genuinely smarter without needing the device.
Barry's fingers flew across the keyboard. His enhanced intellect made connections that DeVoe had never considered. Frequency modulation patterns that would encourage neuroplasticity.
Pulse timing that would align with the brain's natural theta wave rhythms. Safety protocols that would monitor neural health and automatically adjust stimulation levels.
He wrote for three hours straight.
Creating equations. Drawing diagrams. Building a complete theoretical model for a Thinking Cap that would actually work without destroying the user.
By 10:47 PM, he had a working theory. On paper, at least. Now he needed to test it.
But not on himself. Not yet. He needed to build a prototype first. Test it on something. Make sure it actually worked before putting it on his own head.
Barry leaned back in his chair, mind racing. He'd need equipment. A lot of it.
Electromagnetic field generators. EEG monitoring systems. Signal processors. None of it was illegal but all of it was expensive.
His current capital was $53,000 total. Enough for a basic prototype. Barely.
Barry opened a spreadsheet and started pricing out components.
Medical-grade EEG system: $8,000. Electromagnetic field generators: $12,000 for a set of six. Signal processing computer: $4,000. Miscellaneous sensors and wiring: $3,000. Total: $27,000 just for the core equipment.
He could afford it. But it would wipe out half his available capital.
Worth it. If the Thinking Cap worked, he'd be smart enough to make that money back tenfold within weeks.
Barry started placing orders using his burner laptop and a prepaid credit card. Shipping to a storage unit he'd rented under a fake name. Everything untraceable. Everything deniable.
By midnight, he'd ordered everything he needed. Delivery would take two weeks for some of the specialized equipment. That was fine. It gave him time to prepare. To study. To make sure his theoretical model was actually sound before he started building hardware.
His phone buzzed. Text from Iris.
"You awake? Can't sleep. Thinking about the Queens. It's so sad."
Barry stared at that message. Tomorrow was Friday. The Queen's Gambit would sink. Oliver and Robert Queen would disappear. Iris would be devastated by a tragedy she couldn't have prevented.
And Barry would profit from it.
The weight of that knowledge sat heavy in his chest. Not guilt exactly. More like awareness of the gap between what he knew and what everyone else thought was real.
He typed back: "Yeah I'm up. Working on a project. You okay?"
"Not really. Feel like the world is getting darker."
"It's not all dark. Some good things still happen."
"Name one."
"Your article getting published. That's good."
There was a long pause.
Then: "Thanks Barry. You always know what to say."
"Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be better."
"Liar. But I appreciate it. Night."
"Night."
Barry set his phone down and stared at his laptop screen. The equipment orders. The theoretical models. The stolen research. All of it building toward something unprecedented.
But it came with costs. Emotional distance from people he cared about. Lies stacked on lies. Moral compromises that the original Barry Allen would never have made.
'Is this worth it?' he thought. 'Becoming strong enough to save people but losing pieces of my humanity along the way?'
He couldn't answer that question. Some things couldn't be calculated.
Barry closed his laptop and went to bed. Tomorrow the Queen's Gambit would sink. Tomorrow he'd make money from tragedy. Tomorrow the timeline would accelerate toward the future he was trying to shape.
But tonight, he was just a twenty-three-year-old guy lying in the dark, wondering if he was becoming something better or something worse.
Read More on Patreon marvelstark