The storm had passed, but the tension inside S.T.A.R. Labs hadn't. After Roy Bivolo's capture, the lab had returned to its usual hum of power cores and flickering monitors. Yet the air still carried a strange weight, like static that hadn't yet found its spark.
August needed a break.
So did everyone else.
Before diving headfirst into the next crisis, the team let themselves exhale. Just a little.
***
Cisco called it "Movie Night." A team-building tradition, dug up from before the accelerator's failure, when the lab's corridors still echoed with laughter.
They dimmed the lights in the Cortex and rolled in a projector. Caitlin brought popcorn — real, butter-drenched popcorn — and Cisco, of course, had somehow coded JANUS to generate on-screen subtitles in real time using voice recognition.
They watched Back to the Future. Classic choice.
Caitlin dozed off halfway through, her head resting lightly on August's shoulder. Cisco laughed too hard at every Doc Brown line, and August… he just sat back and watched Caitlin savoring the moment.
He hadn't realized how long it had been since he smiled for no reason.
"You look like you're waiting for a punchline," Cisco murmured at one point, catching the expression.
"Maybe I am," August said with a smirk. "Or maybe I'm just enjoying the calm."
Movie night ended with takeout, root beer, and a game of who-could-name-the-most-ridiculous-theories-about-VIREL currently trending in online forums. JANUS read the top posts aloud in a faux-British accent. Laughter finally outpaced tension.
Even Wells, watching from the shadows of the Cortex, allowed a rare smile to touch his lips.
***
Two days later, the power across half of Mason Heights flickered and died.
Traffic lights failed. Hospitals switched to backup systems. Phones went dark.
"Something's draining the grid," Caitlin said, watching the readings spike and vanish. "Like… chewing through it."
JANUS pinged in. "Confirmed: Power surge followed by complete failure. Source localized to Sector 9. Independent systems suggest electromagnetic interference centered within a half-mile radius."
August frowned. "Interference?"
"Localized," Caitlin replied. "Not atmospheric. It's... targeted."
Cisco pulled up the city's energy grid overlay. "Whatever it is, it's not just draining power — it's rerouting it. Like it's feeding off it."
"Metahuman?" August asked, already stepping toward the suit display.
JANUS responded first. "Correlation found. Reviewing metahuman activity logs…"
Caitlin looked up. "JANUS, check archived patient files from the night of the particle accelerator explosion. Look for anyone with electrical injuries or high-voltage trauma."
The AI hesitated only a second. "Subject identified: Farooq Gibran. Victim of high-voltage arc flash sustained during the blast. Presumed deceased. But evidence suggests survival and mutation. Enhanced bioelectric absorption and discharge capacity likely."
August's eyes narrowed. "He's draining the city."
Cisco pointed at a flickering substation camera feed. "He's moving toward another power node. If we don't stop him, he's gonna cause a cascade failure."
Caitlin added grimly, "Or worse — an overload that takes down the entire east grid."
August turned to JANUS. "Pull up all known routes to Sector 9. I need to cut him off before he hits the next node."
"Map ready," JANUS said, overlaying a red path across the screen. "Probability of blackout chain reaction: 86% if he reaches the central substation."
August stared at the numbers, then at the team. "Let's not give him the chance."
In a flash of white and gold, he was gone — lightning trailing behind him.
***
August's white-and-gold figure blurred into view along the red route on JANUS's display. With a final nod to Caitlin and Cisco watching the grid data in the Cortex, he propelled himself into the urban night. The cityscape trembled under the weight of an impending disaster—lights flickered erratically as if protesting the interference that was slowly, deliberately, draining the power grid.
As August neared Sector 9, His HUD flashed an energy warning, static crackling in his comms.
"JANUS," he said into the mic. "Are you still with me?"
His earpiece hissed. Faded.
Then—
"—ffirmative. Signal... degrading. Hostile... near—"
And silence.
Abandoned power lines and sporadic bursts of electrical arcs decorated the deserted street. A lone substation stood amid the chaos, its red emergency lights barely piercing the gloom. There, in front of the building, he finally saw him: Farooq Gibran—a figure outlined in sporadic flashes of blue and white energy, his eyes glinting with a dangerous calm.
Farooq stood in the center of the intersection, his skin laced with black veins pulsing electric blue. Sparks danced off his fingertips like nervous ticks, grounding themselves in the cracked asphalt. His eyes glowed faintly, like batteries left too long in the dark.
"You're the one draining the city," August said, stepping forward.
Farooq didn't answer. He tilted his head, as if he recognized something in August.
"You're the Superhero they call Godspeed," he said, his voice distorted, like it was running through static. "You run hot."
For a moment, the two stood facing each other: the measured stillness of Farooq against the restless energy in August's stance.
"I don't want to hurt you," August said carefully. "We can help you—"
Farooq raised his hand. The air rippled as he sent a concentrated pulse of electromagnetic energy hurtling toward the substation. The building shuddered, sparks leaping from corroded panels.
August dodged — or tried to. He accelerated into a blur, but within three steps, everything collapsed.
The world snapped back into normal time as pain ripped through his chest. His knees buckled. His vision blurred; the well-practiced rhythm of his run was replaced by spasms of disorientation.
"What—" he gasped, falling to one knee.
Farooq's hand crackled with light, draining energy straight from the air. "You're a living conduit," he said. "The power inside you… I can feel it."
August tried to run again. Nothing. His limbs felt like lead. The residual speed in his cells sparked and fizzled out — drained, not suppressed.
JANUS's voice finally cut in, garbled and faint.
"Warning: energy levels critical. Speed field compromised. Core output falling—"
Farooq raised his hand again, blue lightning flaring. "You're strong. I need more of you."
August rolled aside just in time to avoid the blast, slamming behind a burned-out car. He was breathing hard. Too hard.
This wasn't just a blackout. This was targeted leeching. And August realized with trepidation that he could barely feel his speed anymore. His cells always supercharged and full were running empty.
"JANUS," August whispered, "get me an exit path. I need to retreat. I can't beat him like this."
"Calculating. Path identified. Minimal exposure. Run when I say."
Farooq stalked forward, dragging a trail of scorched concrete in his wake. "Why run?" he said. "You are power. Let me show you what it's like to never be weak again."
August clenched his fists.
"Now," JANUS whispered.
He pushed off, burning the last dregs of energy in his system. Not enough for a burst, but enough for a blink — a quick skip down the alley and into the maze of backstreets. He felt Farooq's pull the whole way, like a magnet trying to rip his bones backward.
He didn't stop running until the streetlights stopped flickering.
Until his strength began crawling back.
Until his body finally stopped screaming.
***
Back at S.T.A.R. Labs, Caitlin had him on the table before his boots hit the floor.
"Your speed was almost completely nullified," she said, checking vitals, eyes wide. "He drained you at the source. If you didn't have regenerative properties—"
"I'd be dead or have lost my speed completely," August said quietly.
Cisco leaned over the console. "We can't take this guy lightly anymore. Now that he's gotten a taste of you, so to speak, he'll be coming for more."
August sat up, weak but focused. "Then we need to choose where we make our stand."
***
The cortex felt heavier than usual — the kind of weight that settles in after a narrow escape.
August sat on the med bay table, his suit stripped down to the waist. Sweat clung to his back. Caitlin was scanning his vitals again, but the readings barely registered. His speed had only just begun to return.
On JANUS's city map, the red trail of blackouts arced like lightning strikes, converging toward a single destination. The power fluctuations were growing stronger, faster, more rhythmic — not random anymore.
They were deliberate.
"He's not moving between substations anymore," Cisco said, studying the pulse frequency on his monitor. "He's drawing from the grid like it's an extension of himself. And it's all leading here."
Caitlin stepped closer, her voice low. "He's coming to us."
August's jaw tensed. "Why? He could take any other node. The VIREL core isn't linked to the main grid."
"And more importantly, how do we stop him?" Cisco said, pacing. "He almost sucked away your speed last time you went against him."
JANUS chimed in. "Farooq Gibran's cellular data suggests a gradual fusion of metahuman energy absorption and neuro-electrical redirection. The result: conscious control over electrical systems and organic neural fields. Including yours, August."
"He hijacked my connection to the Speed Field," August muttered. "Like it was a plug he could pull."
"Which means," Cisco said, "we're dealing with a living circuit breaker. If he can cut off your speed, then our usual 'punch fast, ask later' strategy is off the table."
"We need something that doesn't run on electricity," Caitlin said. "A suppression field. Chemically-based, maybe? A sedative laced with ion dampeners?"
"No," came a voice from the corridor.
They all turned.
Dr. Wells wheeled in from the shadows, his expression unreadable, his eyes sharp.
"Electricity won't slow him," Wells said calmly. "It will feed him."
August stood slowly. "Where have you been?"
Wells rolled forward, ignoring the question. "I've been tracking his activity since the first blackout in Mason Heights. I needed to confirm a pattern before bringing it to the team."
August stepped in. "Yeah we all see the pattern now. Though I almost got killed. So congratulations."
Wells didn't flinch. "Which is why it's time we end this."
August stood straighter. "Then we cut the connection. Remove the fuel. Isolate him from his source."
"I have a prototype," Wells said. "A kinetic inhibitor designed to collapse EM fields without generating a charge. I built it in case someone tried to breach the VIREL chamber."
He tapped a command into his tablet.
A compartment in the lab opened, revealing a compact shoulder-mounted device — a sleek, heavy launcher with glowing rings around a central chamber.
Cisco raised his brows. "Is that…?"
"Let's call it an E-bomb," Wells said. "Electromagnetic compression grenade. One burst. No residual charge. But it only works once. We'll need the perfect shot."
August stepped forward and reached for the weapon. "Then I'll get it."
Caitlin put a hand on his arm. "You sure you're ready?"
"No," he admitted. "But he's getting stronger every minute. And I can't let him keep using my city as a battery."
Wells watched him quietly, something unreadable flickering behind his glasses.
"Good," he said. "Let's put an end to this."
JANUS pinged. "Blackout reached Sector 3. Estimated arrival: six minutes. Transit patterns suggest direct convergence with S.T.A.R. Labs main entrance."
Cisco stepped back from the console. "Then we don't go to him."
August nodded. "We let him come to us."
Wells was already moving. "We seal the cortex, reroute all emergency power to internal shielding. And when he arrives…"
"We make our stand," August finished.
***
Five minutes later, the lights flickered again. Caitlin stood at the med bay console. Cisco was at the defense grid terminal. Wells had retreated to his private access port — preparing the E-bomb silently, calibrating the EMP field to collapse just as Farooq stepped through the entry hall.
And August?
August stood in the middle of the cortex, unmasked, unarmed, waiting.
He felt it before he saw it — the chill in the air, the weight of static pressing against his skin.
The doors slid open.
Farooq stepped inside, sparks crawling across his arms like snakes. His eyes burned with cold fury. His veins glowed blue-white.
"Hello again," he said, voice crackling.
"No running this time," August said evenly.
"I'm not here for you," Farooq replied. "Not yet."
His eyes shifted.
Past August.
To Wells.
Wells wheeled into the light slowly, gaze locked with Farooq's.
"You remember me," Wells said.
"How could I forget?" Farooq hissed. "I screamed your name when my skin caught fire. When I died — and woke up like this."
"You were a casualty of science," Wells said calmly.
"I was a man. I had a life. And you took it."
Lightning surged from Farooq's palms — arcing across the floor, burning lines into the walls. Sparks rained from the ceiling.
"You built this place on promises," he growled. "Cures. Progress. Hope. But it's a tomb. And you're the ghost that made it."
August stepped forward. "He's not the only one who built this place."
Farooq looked at him, disgust in his eyes. "And what are you? The mascot? You're just another tool he polished and programmed."
Caitlin's voice cut in through the comms. "August, now."
August nodded.
His hands blurred in a burst of speed.
The E-bomb launched silently, a pulse of kinetic distortion slamming into Farooq's chest.
For a moment, everything paused. The sonic boom shattered windows.
Then the lights died.