Chapter 6— Consequences of Light
"Leave him alone for now."
Barry looked up, still panting from his late-night run. His mask rested on the counter beside him. The fluorescent lights of STAR Labs flickered slightly above.
Harrison Wells sat calmly, hands steepled. "You said he hasn't used his powers since the hospital?"
Barry nodded. "Not once. No sightings. No speed trails. It's like he disappeared."
"Then maybe he's choosing not to use them," Wells said. "Maybe he's trying to be something else."
Barry paced. "But what is he? He's not like me. He's faster. Stronger. And when he killed Toxin, it wasn't... controlled. It was instinct."
Wells met his eyes. "All the more reason to leave him be. For now, he's not hurting anyone. And, for now, that's good."
Barry clenched his jaw but finally nodded. "Alright."
---
One Week Later
Central City shook again.
A thunderous crash echoed through the industrial district as concrete crumbled beneath heavy metal fists.
Barry groaned as he lay amid shattered glass, blood trickling from his lip.
The man standing over him gleamed like iron under the sun—a towering brute with skin like armor and a voice like grinding steel.
"Still slow, Allen," the man sneered.
Barry blinked. "Tony...? Tony Woodward?"
The metallic man grinned. "Didn't think you'd recognize me."
Barry knew him. The bully from school. The kid who shoved him into lockers and called him weak. But this wasn't the same Tony. This one had been touched by the particle accelerator too.
And now, his skin was metal.
Barry lunged.
A mistake.
Tony caught him mid-air and hurled him through a wall like he was paper.
---
The Next Day
Iris West's screams echoed through the abandoned warehouse.
She was chained, gagged, and staring at the brute who hovered near her.
Tony Woodward.
"You shouldn't write about things you don't understand," he growled. "All those stories about the Flash. You think that doesn't piss people off?"
She glared at him, defiant even now.
Barry arrived seconds later, scarlet lightning trailing behind him. He freed Iris in a blur, catching her gently and placing her behind a pillar.
"You're okay now. Stay here."
He turned to face Tony.
"Round two," Barry muttered.
Tony charged.
The impact sent Barry flying again.
No use. His punches weren't landing. The metal absorbed everything.
Then Cisco's voice echoed in his earpiece: "Barry, you have to hit him harder. Run as far as you can. Build speed. Come back and punch him like a bullet."
Barry nodded. He took off.
The air around him shimmered.
Lightning arced.
But before Barry could return—
The temperature dropped.
The world slowed.
A laugh—low, hollow, electric—echoed.
And then he appeared.
Red lightning danced behind him like worshippers.
Naked, save for the crimson arcs that curled and twisted around his body, shielding him in shadows and sparks.
Dante Hart.
He stepped into the warehouse like gravity bent to him.
Tony turned. "Who the hell—"
Dante ignored him.
He looked at Iris.
His voice was soft. Calm. Terrifying.
"You should stop doing this."
Iris blinked. "What?"
"Writing about the Flash."
His head tilted gently.
"You put your life in danger. Not only yours. His too. And everyone close to you. Villains like this will keep knocking on your door."
Then he turned to Tony.
The lightning around him laughed.
"And you..."
He took one step.
Tony stumbled back. "Stay away from me."
"You can just die."
In the blink of an eye—faster than even Barry could process—Dante closed the distance.
There was no wind.
No warning.
Just death.
Dante, unmoving, holding Tony upright by the chest.
His hand buried deep into Tony's torso.
His heart—still twitching—in Dante's grasp.
Tony's body collapsed.
Dante dropped the heart like garbage.
The red lightning curled and hissed.
He looked at Barry.
"I warned her."
Then he was gone.
Not a flash. Not a sound.
Just gone.
Barry stood frozen, chest rising and falling in shock.
Iris covered her mouth in horror.
What was he becoming?
What was Dante Hart turning into?
No one knew.
But the storm had returned.
And it didn't serve justice.
It served judgment.
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