Broken(DC)

Arriving in one of the safest cities according to crime statistics, I was pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness and neatness of the streets. I allowed myself to simply stroll through the city to take in the difference. There weren't as many skyscrapers as in Metropolis, but there were plenty of parks and green spaces, which kept the air light and fresh. It was the kind of city where you'd truly want to stay forever.

After finishing my walk, I headed to a circular building designed specifically to house a particle accelerator. With each lap, the particles were meant to accelerate, generating more and more energy. At some point, their speed would become so great that the energy produced by the accelerator would be enough to sustain the device itself and provide electricity to the city.

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Upon entering, I immediately found myself in a small exhibition hall where stands displayed details about the project, its prospects, and its impact on the urban environment. Reflecting on the particle accelerator's operation, I realized that something was missing from this project a certain detail. Everything sounded too good to be true, and I know that such miracles usually come at a steep price.

There are other ways to generate energy in this world, so why this one? If you consider the potential consequences of errors in such a facility, I can't even imagine what might happen. From the destruction of the city to a catastrophe on a continental scale. Such particles moving at ultra-high speeds are said to have the power to destroy an entire planet, if the characteristics presented in the exhibit are to be believed. How can such force be controlled unless they've developed something the world has yet to learn about? I absolutely needed to find out more.

"Enjoying the presentation? I still can't believe we're making history," said a young man who approached me. His hair was tied back in a ponytail, and he practically radiated excitement. His badge read: "STAR Labs Employee, Mechanical Engineer."

"Impressed by your resilience," I replied. My comment made him glance at me with slight confusion. "Surely you've taken extreme care to ensure the safety of this device?"

"Don't worry, it's absolutely safe. I've double-checked the calculations myself and am confident in its success," he said with such certainty that I almost believed him.

"I hope you're right," I said, though something inside me wouldn't let me feel at ease while standing here.

"There's no other way," he replied confidently.

"So, why did you decide to approach me?" I asked. I wasn't particularly well-known in scientific circles. Only my company's name had gained popularity after recent events, which had significantly boosted our reputation. Many news outlets had picked up the story and sensationalized it even further.

"You were observing our work so intently that I thought you must be someone knowledgeable. And, between you and me, I'll let you in on a secret it's all my doing. My creation. Countless hours of work to show the world just how revolutionary particle accelerator technology is," he said. It was strange to hear that this was handled by an engineer, but even the presentation itself was crafted with advanced technology. The holographic visuals and live demonstrations of the devices looked incredibly impressive.

"It all seems very well thought out and impressive," I noted.

"Thank you. I'm glad my work is appreciated," said Cisco Ramon, judging by his badge.

"Have you conducted a test run?" I asked.

"Of course, and the first few minutes of operation show that our calculations are correct. The particle accelerator is working," Cisco replied.

"I hope so. I'm not particularly strong in physics or engineering; I'm more of a biologist," I admitted.

"Then you must be presenting something during launch day too?" Cisco asked with interest.

"Yes, my work is related to immune cells and the possibility of enhancing them," I said.

"That sounds familiar," Cisco mused, and then, recalling something, he exclaimed, "That's right! You were all over the news last week when the government came down on you, wasn't it?"

"I'd prefer to make headlines for less unpleasant incidents," I replied.

"Forgive my manners. My name is Cisco Ramon," he said, extending his hand.

"Brian Foreman," I replied, shaking his hand.

"You should definitely meet Caitlin Snow. She was fascinated by your work," Cisco said.

"I'd be delighted to meet her. And I'd also like to speak with Harrison Wells. Is that possible? I hope he's not too busy," I asked, deciding to take the chance. Cisco scratched the back of his head at this.

"Well, I don't know. You'd need his permission first before making any arrangements," he said.

"That's fine, Cisco. I'm always happy to meet brilliant minds," a voice interjected. Almost unnoticed, Harrison Wells himself had approached us.

"You need to check Sector Six and ensure the wiring is intact," he added.

"Sorry, Doctor. I got a little sidetracked," Cisco said. "Excuse me, I need to get back to work," he added, gesturing that he had to leave.

"Harrison Wells," he introduced himself.

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"Brian Forman," I replied, extending my hand. As soon as I did, an inexplicable sensation coursed through me. A quiet alarm in my gut screamed that the man before me was dangerous far more dangerous than he appeared. Then, something shifted. My vision blurred for a moment, and suddenly, I could see it: the weight of sins clinging to him like a shadow, an indelible mark that no time or repentance could erase.

"You know, you're quite the remarkable individual," Wells said, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. "You stand out, as though an aura surrounds you one that's impossible to forget."

"Have we met before?" I asked cautiously.

"Oh, no. I've merely seen you... in scientific journals," he added after a deliberate pause, his tone carrying a subtext only he seemed to understand. "Well, perhaps we'll have the chance to speak later. We've got a tight schedule and need to prepare for the particle accelerator's launch," he said, wheeling himself away.

The moment he disappeared from view, my suspicions solidified into certainty. The man behind the reactor was not who he pretended to be. My ability to see into souls was still unreliable, but one thing was clear: Harrison Wells had no intention of bettering humanity. If anything, his plans would plunge the world into chaos.

I had to uncover the truth before it was too late. But how?

Cisco. He was my best bet. His soul was untainted, his intentions pure. Someone like him would do everything in his power to ensure the accelerator functioned perfectly, with no mistakes. If I could align myself with him, perhaps I could prevent any unforeseen disaster.

I needed to reestablish contact and gain access to the facility. Fortunately, everyone involved in the project would be issued a special pass for the event within the week. All I had to do was wait and prepare for any potential emergencies.

Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I needed more information about Wells. I started digging, beginning with the accident that had cost him his legs.

A car crash. He'd been driving with his wife when something darted onto the road, causing him to lose control. The collision damaged his spine, leaving him paralyzed. His wife didn't survive.

But there was something unsettling about him. He didn't carry the grief of a man mourning his wife. And my ability to glimpse into souls though still unrefined confirmed that his emotions were far from what one might expect.

I needed help.

Pulling out my phone, I dialed a number I hadn't used in a while.

"Hey, John," I said when he picked up.

"What do you want, mate? I'm a bit busy saving the world right now," came John Constantine's familiar voice, dripping with sarcasm. In the background, I heard faint music decidedly not the soundtrack of a heroic endeavor.

"You're in a strip club, aren't you?" I asked flatly.

"No, of course not. I'm exorcising demons," he replied, a little too quickly.

"So, you are in one," I concluded.

"Fine, you got me. Now spill it, kid. I actually am busy some bloody monster possessed a girl and is biting the heads off customers," John said, his tone shifting to a more serious edge.

"What do I need to contact someone who's passed on? I can see souls," I said, cutting straight to the point.

"Trust me, you don't want to go down that road. If you've lost someone, leave them be. The dead are best left undisturbed," John warned, his voice grave.

"I need it for a mission. Right now, this could save the lives of an entire city"I said. I wasn't sure about the possible consequences if everything went wrong during the launch.

"I hope that's true. The simplest way is to find the grave of the deceased, recite the summoning incantation, and, if you're lucky, the soul will appear. If not, the spiritual plane is closed, and finding the soul will be nearly impossible. That means the world no longer holds them, and nothing ties the soul to their former self" John explained.

"Can you describe what I need for this ritual?" I asked.

"I've studied this art for over twenty years, and you want to learn it in five minutes?" John retorted.

"Then come to Central City yourself" I suggested.

"No, thanks. If the city's about to face destruction, I'd rather be as far away as possible. Fine, I'll write you the details later" John replied.

I still hadn't decided if I should go through with it. No one could reveal more about Harrison Wells than his late wife. I didn't know him personally, but how could one man carry so much sin on his soul? It's impossible for someone to commit that many murders alone. Perhaps he was like that in the past and now seeks redemption by creating a source of clean energy. Maybe I was just overthinking it. But my gut told me something was definitely wrong here.

I kept this option as a last resort. He was likely interrogated after the accident, so I just needed to find the case and study it. I might even have to infiltrate the police station. I could fully transform into fire and take an intangible form, but in that state, I'm more vulnerable since my physical body can endure most damage, while fire can be neutralized in various ways.

Arriving at the local police station, I transformed into a thin stream of flame and entered the ventilation system. Passing through narrow spaces, I could barely make out voices, and my senses in this intangible form felt entirely different" everything seemed unfamiliar. Stopping near the archive, I listened closely to ensure no one was nearby.

"It's oddly warm today" a man said, unbuttoning a few buttons on his shirt.

"Probably the AC's broken. We should report it; it's unbearable to work like this," another voice added.

I lowered my body temperature, becoming like smoldering embers. I needed to be cautious and avoid giving myself away with a glow. After waiting a few minutes, I seized the moment when no one was around and exited the vent, taking human form. My clothes remained intact. Over time, I'd learned, as if through some magical incantation, to transform my clothing into fire and back, sparing myself the awkwardness of being left naked after a transformation.

Browsing through files sorted by year, I found the right section. Now I just needed a name. Skimming through the alphabet, I reached the files starting with "W." Flipping through pages with various names, I finally found it a car accident. Harrison Wells was suspected of murdering his wife, but the case was ruled an accident: unforeseen circumstances caused the crash, and the driver himself was also injured. Due to a lack of evidence, the case was closed.

Reading Wells's written statements, I noticed oddities, as if a well-trained actor was playing a role. The perfectly chosen words left no room for doubt, as though this man was devoid of emotions and had rehearsed his speech in advance. An actor. What if Harrison Wells died in that crash alongside his wife, and the man before us is someone else entirely?

"Excuse me, but what are you doing here?" a voice came from nearby. I hadn't expected someone to appear suddenly and froze for a moment. Had I been too lost in thought? Turning, I saw a man, about twenty-five, with blond hair, a somewhat tense expression, and uncertain demeanor.

"I'm a journalist. The particle accelerator is about to launch, and I'm gathering material on Harrison Wells for an article. I've been given permission to take this file," I said, holding up the folder in my hands.

"Really? Sorry for bothering you; usually, outsiders aren't allowed in here," he replied, surprised.

"No worries, you didn't interrupt me. I've already gathered enough material and am almost finished," I said, trying to maintain confidence in my voice.

"Alright, then. I'll just grab something. I need to place this folder here," he said as he passed me, putting a folder in a section from several years earlier. Briefly, I caught the title: 'Henry Allen Case.' "Looking forward to reading your article," he added, which left me momentarily startled.

"Of course, I'll do my best," I replied, trying to hide my confusion.

"Need a guide? It can be hard to navigate the archives; I got lost myself at first," he offered.

"No need. I'll finish up here and find my way back," I declined. He hesitated for a moment, pondering, but eventually left. Quickly, I returned the file to its place and transformed back into a being of fire, sneaking back into the ventilation.

"By the way, I..." he began as he suddenly reappeared, stopping in his tracks, staring at where I had just been. "Where did he go?"

I moved swiftly, traveling through the ventilation tunnels as quickly as I could. Once outside, I hurried back to my rented apartment. I'd have to spend the entire night analyzing this to determine if Harrison Wells was indeed replaced.

*********************

Watching yet another interview or footage of Harrison Wells, I noticed details again. Everything could be attributed to recovery from the incident and changes in behavior due to the loss of his legs a tragedy, after all. Or, perhaps, the actor was simply playing his role brilliantly. I couldn't understand one thing, though why? Even if he intended to sabotage the particle accelerator's operation, who would benefit from that? I couldn't grasp his motives. Maybe I was thinking in the wrong direction.

Habits that's what distinguishes almost every person. They are developed over a lifetime, and breaking them is difficult. Someone impersonating another, even if they know all the habits of the person they're replacing, inevitably reveals their own, sometimes giving themselves away. Harrison Wells might already be dead, and whoever replaced him is merely impersonating him. And apparently, their intellect is just as high, as they excel in the scientist's role, judging by the interviews.

Just yesterday, I contacted the organizer to request a pass. I emphasized how much I wanted to see the lab's work up close and how interested I was in collaborating between our companies. Today, I received a positive response. After finishing my analysis, I headed to STAR Labs. Though espionage isn't my thing, sometimes you have to do what you're not skilled at.

Entering the main hall, I passed the demonstration room and headed toward the restricted section, which required special clearance. At the entrance, I was met by a woman wearing a name tag that read "Caitlin Snow." A bioengineer, as I gathered.

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"Hello, Brian Foreman? Here's your pass. I decided to meet you and show you around our lab," she said.

"Thank you, nice to meet you. I heard from your colleague that you study bioengineering," I replied.

"Cisco? He told you everything, huh. Well, I dabble in it a bit. I've seen your work, and I'm impressed. I'm very glad to meet you," Caitlin replied, inviting me inside. "When STAR Labs received your proposal, Dr. Wells accepted it right away. He believes we have great potential for collaboration."

"Dr. Wells?" I asked, feeling slightly uneasy. Did he figure something out?

"Yes, he's very dedicated to helping young scientists strive for great discoveries. Without his support, I'd probably still be working as a lab assistant. And now we're on the verge of a revolution in science," Caitlin said.

"Impressive," I replied. Maybe I was wrong. Why would he go to such lengths, or is he so deeply immersed in his role?

"This is our lab," she said, showing me a massive room filled with various instruments, each displaying some kind of data. "We can't go in there right now. Final checks are underway, and access is restricted to outsiders," Caitlin added.

"That's alright, I understand," I said, glancing at a monitor showing a large tunnel where particles would soon be traveling. The scale of the facility was astounding; the entire building was essentially one giant particle accelerator.