Chapter 50 – "The One Who Stayed Silent"
It had happened countless times.
Zoom and his army attacked hospitals, labs, power plants, and civilian shelters. They ripped through defenses, destroyed homes, and brought Central City to its knees.
But there was one place—just one—they never touched.
The CCPD.
Not a single attack. Not a single metahuman. Not even a whisper of destruction near the building.
Some called it luck. Others called it coincidence.
But those who truly paid attention—those who watched from the shadows—knew exactly why.
It was because of Dante.
Because the man they broke was still there.
And Zoom knew better than to tempt him without a plan
...
That night, as the sun dipped behind a ruined skyline, Dante quietly finished cleaning the last hallway of the CCPD. He mopped the bloodstains, changed out the trash, wiped the walls.
He didn't say goodbye.
He never did.
The janitor walked alone through the city. Hood pulled over his red hair. Hands in his pockets. He was tired. Not physically, but soul-tired. The kind of tired that makes a man question why he even bothers.
That was when he heard the scream.
A small shop. Tucked between two burnt buildings. The sign barely hanging. The lights flickering.
Inside, two metahumans were tearing the place apart.
The shop owner—an old woman with a bent back and shaking hands—screamed for help. Her voice cracked. Her body trembled.
No one came.
No one but him.
Dante exhaled slowly, looking up at the bruised purple sky. The wind pushed against him like a whisper.
His red eyes began to glow.
Lightning shimmered through his hair.
He ran.
In a fraction of a second, the two metahumans were on the ground—unconscious, bleeding, broken. One had their arm twisted backwards. The other had cracked ribs and shattered teeth.
To them, it was like a shadow came and went.
Dante stood above them, breath calm, face unreadable.
The old woman stared in awe, clutching her chest.
"Call the cops," Dante said quietly. His voice was low, soft… gentle.
And then he vanished again.
He hadn't intended to go looking for Zoom.
But fate had a cruel sense of humor.
As he ran through the side streets of Central City, he saw it—a stadium in the distance lit up like a firestorm.
It was the old high school football field.
And it was full.
Dozens—maybe hundreds—of metahumans stood in formation. All loyal to Zoom.
At the center of it all stood the black-suited demon himself.
Zoom.
Cold. Smiling. Surrounded.
Waiting.
Dante stopped on the edge of the field. His boots pressed against the dirt. His eyes scanned the chaos. He didn't look afraid.
He didn't even look angry.
He looked… done.
"I will not fight," he said softly.
His voice echoed across the field like a slow-moving wind.
"I will not interfere with your plans, Zoom. I will not chase you. I will not hunt your army. You do what you want."
He stepped forward just a little.
"But you stay out of my way. That's all I ask."
For a moment, the field was quiet.
Then laughter.
Cruel, twisted laughter from the crowd of metahumans.
A pyrokinetic raised his hands, flames swirling. A cryomancer formed jagged shards of ice on his fingers. A sand-wielder rumbled with earthy growls. Electricity crackled. Water swirled. Poison, acid, smoke—all gathered around Dante like a tidal wave waiting to crash.
But Zoom didn't laugh.
He watched Dante.
He knew better.
"That can't happen," Zoom said coldly.
And with that, he raised his hand.
The army charged.
Dante didn't move at first.
His head dropped, shoulders slack. His hands were still in his pockets.
Then he whispered one word:
"Fine."
And then hell fell upon the field.
Red lightning exploded outward in all directions. A shockwave cracked the sky.
Dante disappeared.
What followed was not a battle.
It was a massacre.
He moved faster than light, faster than comprehension. His face never visible—just a blur of red, black, and death.
The first row of metahumans died in under two seconds. Heads separated from necks. Hearts pulled from chests. Bodies slammed into the earth so hard they shattered on impact.
Fire met blood.
Ice met bone.
Electricity met screams.
He didn't speak. He didn't warn.
He just killed.
The void force inside him burned brighter with every death. It consumed his hesitation, fed off his anger, and grew louder.
Every limb he tore free fed it.
Every scream he silenced echoed through his soul like a hymn.
He didn't stop.
He couldn't stop.
A hydromancer tried to drown him. He evaporated the water with raw speed and crushed the man's skull with one hand.
A shapeshifter screamed and tried to turn into a beast. Dante ripped the beast's jaw clean off before it could shift fully.
A speedster tried to match him.
He grabbed her mid-run, snapped her legs backward, and left her in pieces across the track.
Within minutes, the stadium was a graveyard.
Limbs. Organs. Faces frozen in horror.
The ground was painted in red.
The only thing that moved now was the lightning.
And Zoom.
He hadn't run. He hadn't moved. He just stood there, watching the slaughter.
And when Dante stopped, when his breath finally began to slow, Zoom spoke again.
"Feel better?" he asked quietly.
Dante didn't answer.
His eyes were glowing like two suns.
His body pulsed with energy, but his face… his face was numb.
As if none of it mattered.
As if he didn't care.
"I warned you," Dante finally whispered.
His voice was cold. Detached.
"I told you to stay out of my way."
Zoom stepped forward slightly. Not scared. Just curious.
"You think that's enough to stop me?" he asked.
Dante tilted his head slightly.
"No," he said. "But it's enough to remind you what I am."
Red lightning flared again, like thunder cracking through the night.
Zoom didn't respond.
He just disappeared into the shadows.
.....
The next morning, police arrived at the stadium.
What they found could not be explained.
Dozens of dead metahumans.
Each killed with precision, speed, and violence beyond anything they'd seen.
Whispers began to spread again.
The Red Ghost.
the lighting god
The doom
But none of them knew the truth.
Only Barry.
Only Cisco. Caitlin. Ronnie.
Only they knew the real name behind the myth.
And only they knew what they'd lost when they broke him.
Dante had drawn a line.
And he was done asking people not to cross it.
---
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