Chapter 10: Footsteps in the Lab
Barry had been running for hours, sweat trailing down the back of his neck. His heart raced—not from exhaustion, but from the adrenaline that came with pushing his speed a little further every time. Star Labs echoed with his footfalls, the hum of technology pulsing in sync with his movements.
Cisco and Caitlin monitored his vitals from the console, eyes flickering across screens as Barry zipped around the training room.
"Still Mach 3," Caitlin noted, scribbling down the numbers. "No change yet."
"He's plateauing," Cisco muttered. "He needs something new to push him—maybe a new suit, or a new—"
Footsteps.
Cisco stopped speaking.
Caitlin's pen stilled.
The room went quiet except for the soft, deliberate sound of leather boots against polished concrete.
Barry slowed to a halt, chest rising and falling rapidly. He turned toward the hallway just as the figure emerged from the shadows of the corridor.
Dante Hart.
He stepped into the room like smoke, silent and ghostly. His red eyes scanned the lab with calm disinterest, his gaze gliding across the tech, the screens, the wires and tools like he had already imagined all of it a thousand times. A cigarette hung between his fingers, unlit for now, a silent companion to his silence.
His presence alone seemed to shift the atmosphere.
Cisco blinked. "Uhhh... am I hallucinating or... is that the guy who ripped a man's heart out and vanished into lightning?"
Caitlin said nothing, but she subtly reached for her tablet, ready to call up emergency protocols.
Dante's eyes finally landed on them.
He remembered them.
The woman with the kind eyes and the man with a sense of humor loud enough to fill an entire stadium. They were cheering for Barry the same day Dante cheered for his cousin.
He knows about them even before the game because he looked them up
He gave them a nod. Small. A flicker of recognition. No words.
Before either of them could speak, another voice broke the silence.
"Welcome to STAR Labs, Dante Hart."
Dante turned his head.
Harrison Wells.
Calm. Measured. Sitting in his wheelchair near the lab's entrance, hands folded neatly, expression unreadable.
The moment cracked when Barry sped in front of Dante in a blur of movement, standing between him and the rest of the team.
"What are you doing here?" Barry asked, his voice low and wary.
Dante raised his gaze, unbothered by Barry's sudden appearance. He glanced past him at Wells.
"I didn't come for war," he said. His voice was deeper than expected—smooth, with the kind of stillness that only came from being broken and put back together. "I just came to see what happens here."
Wells studied him carefully, fingers tapping once against the armrest of his chair. "Curiosity, then?"
Dante shrugged. "Something like that."
Barry didn't move. "You killed someone, Dante. You didn't hesitate. You didn't flinch. You're not just some guy looking for answers."
"I gave him justice," Dante replied flatly. "You want to call it murder. I call it necessary."
"You didn't even try to save him."
"I'm not you."
Silence fell like a curtain.
Caitlin finally stepped forward, hesitant. "What... what do you want from STAR Labs?"
Dante looked at her. "Answers. Not from you. From him." He motioned toward Wells.
Wells rolled forward slowly, meeting Dante's gaze. "You were struck by the same lightning, Dante. The same energy that touched Barry. But your reaction… it was different. You're different."
"I didn't ask for this," Dante said. "But it's mine now."
Barry clenched his jaw. "You show up here, walk into this lab, and talk like this is all some sort of… experiment to you?"
Dante's red eyes burned with something strange—something deeper than rage or control. It was the look of a man who had already died, and came back with fire in his veins.
"I didn't come to fight," he said again. "You should be glad I didn't."
Cisco muttered, "Great. He's got a Batman voice now."
Dante ignored the comment. He finally lit the cigarette. He didn't smoke it—just let it burn slowly between his fingers. It was more for control than for comfort.
"I wanted to see the place that made a hero," he said softly, glancing around. "And what it would do with a monster."
"You're not a monster," Caitlin said without thinking.
He looked at her, long and quiet. "You haven't seen what I've done."
Barry took a step forward. "You could do more than that. You saved me. You saved Iris. Maybe that means something."
"I didn't do it for you," Dante said simply. "I did it because he deserved to die. That's not heroism. That's judgment."
Wells seemed intrigued, his fingers tapping again. "You're like a mirror. A cracked reflection of Barry. Same origin. Different soul."
Dante turned to leave. "I saw what I needed to see."
Barry moved to stop him, but Wells raised a hand.
"Let him go."
Dante paused near the door. He looked back at Barry, his voice cold but not cruel.
"Just remember, Flash… not all of us want to be saved."
And then he was gone. Not in a blur—not this time. He walked out slowly, leaving silence in his wake, like smoke curling in an empty room.
Cisco finally exhaled. "So... that went well?"
Caitlin looked at Barry. "Are you okay?"
Barry didn't answer right away.
He stared at the door.
The footsteps. The calm. The words.
He wasn't sure what Dante was.
But he was sure of one thing.
He wasn't done with him.
Not yet.
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