In an endless void, as far as the eye could see, no boundary could be found.
A soul drifted through the emptiness.
It seemed accustomed to the scenery by now, its focus fixed on strange writings only it could see.
The soul had been in this void for so long it had lost all sense of time.
Even the strongest will would have broken under such loneliness.
Yet it persisted—because it could somehow access knowledge.
Knowledge far beyond anything it had once understood.
It’s worth mentioning that this soul once belonged to someone from a small planet called Earth, in a newly formed solar system within a galaxy named the Milky Way.
Once, it had been an ambitious man who led a fairly successful life.
His name?
Not worth mentioning.
“Finally done with nuclear physics,” he muttered aloud, though no one was there to hear.
The writings had appeared when the soul was on the verge of madness.
They were his only solace in this abyss of loneliness.
The knowledge he could access was vast—fantasy and science, theology and metaphysics.
It was the only thing keeping him sane.
“I could definitely win a Nobel with this…” he mused.
With what he now understood, he could practically lead humanity.
Even the brightest minds would be specks of dust compared to him.
“But what’s the use,” he suddenly screamed, “WHEN I’M STUCK IN THIS EFFING PLACE!”
His cry faded into nothing.
With a sigh, he returned to studying again.
An untold amount of time passed before something unusual appeared.
A speck of light—something other than himself.
Ecstatic didn’t begin to describe it.
The soul hurled itself toward the light with all its willpower.
The spot was tiny, but it ignited a hope he had long forgotten.
The speck grew, slowly but surely.
Joy filled him.
For the first time in what felt like eternity, he was impatient.
He pushed forward, fearful all the while that the light might vanish.
“After eternity… finally something different,” he whispered.
The closer he came, the hotter and brighter the light became.
It was blinding, searing.
Even then, he pressed on.
‘Maybe death will be a relief,’ he thought.
Enduring the pain, he let himself be swallowed by the blinding radiance.
On planet Earth, in a hospital, a man paced anxiously in the corridor.
He wore a Violet coat and an ID badge—clearly a doctor.
His face showed nervousness, anxiety, and expectation all at once.
He was waiting outside the Labor and Delivery ward.
Hours dragged like years before a nurse finally approached.
After hearing her words, the man’s face lit up with joy as he dashed inside.
In the room, a woman lay exhausted, her face pale with sweat.
To the man, she was still the most beautiful sight in the world.
Beside her, in a crib, a newborn slept peacefully.
“Nora,” the man breathed.
“Henry,” Nora replied weakly, but her smile was warm as she watched her husband clumsily, yet tenderly, cradle their child.
“Thank you, Nora… for this wonderful gift.” Henry’s eyes glistened with happiness as he held the boy out to his mother.
“My beautiful boy…” Nora kissed the baby’s forehead.
A nurse entered and gently said, “Mrs.
Allen, you need to rest now.”
“She’s right, dear.
Get some sleep—I’ll take care of him.” Henry handed the child back to the nurse, who placed him in the crib before continuing her paperwork.
Henry sat beside Nora, holding her hand.
“I’m fine,” Nora reassured him.
“Mr.
and Mrs.
Allen, what will you name him?” the nurse asked.
The couple exchanged a knowing glance—they had decided long ago.
“Bartholomew Henry Allen.
Barry, for short,” Nora whispered before sleep overtook her.
Unnoticed, the newborn’s eyes fluttered open.
His gaze carried a weight far beyond his age.
He had listened.
Upon hearing his name, strange emotions flickered in his eyes… before he drifted back to sleep.
Ten Years Later – Central City, Missouri
In a quiet neighborhood stood the Allen household.
Inside, a boy with golden hair and gem-blue eyes finished the last of his morning exercises.
Sweat dripped down his lean, athletic frame.
His room was filled with books, trophies, and tools—a curious mix of intellect and discipline.
“98… 99… 100.”
He exhaled, wiped his face with his shirt, and drank water.
At ten years old, Barry Allen’s physique rivaled that of a teenager.
No excess fat, only strength and sharpness.
“Barry, breakfast is ready!” his mother’s voice called.
“Coming!”
After a quick shower and change of clothes, Barry joined his parents at the table.
“Morning, Mom.
Morning, Dad.”
“Morning, son.
Sleep well?” Henry asked.
“You didn’t have another nightmare, did you?” Nora added, brushing his hair fondly.
“I’m fine, Mom.
Slept well this time,” Barry answered with a small smile.
For years, Barry had been plagued by strange dreams—visions of endless space.
Strangely, each dream left him with new knowledge.
Medical textbooks, languages, science—he understood it all.
His memory was flawless, his comprehension frightening.
“Well, slugger, at least today you won’t be late for school,” Henry teased, making Nora giggle.
“Dad, don’t call me that.
You know I’m the fastest kid in school.” Barry rolled his eyes.
“Just because I’m late sometimes doesn’t mean I’m slow.”
“That’s not what your teachers think,” Henry smirked.
“I’m just busy with… other stuff.”
“Like reading medical journals instead of playing with kids?” Nora interrupted.
“The stuff they teach at school is boring.
Too easy.” His voice was flat, disinterested.
Barry had always topped his class without effort.
“That’s not the point,” Nora said gently.
“School isn’t just for studying.
You need friends, Barry.
You can’t lock yourself away.”
“I do have friends,” Barry muttered, embarrassed.
“Alex.
Iris…” His voice trailed off.
“That’s what I meant,” Nora sighed.
“And no male friends either?”
“They only pretend so they can copy my homework,” Barry shrugged.
Barry had tried to make friends but it failed spectacularly.
“There’s no need to rush him,” Henry cut in, siding with his son.
Nora shot him a glare.
But before she could say more, Barry shoveled the last of his food, grabbed his bag, and bolted.
“Bye, Mom!
Bye, Dad!”
“We’ll talk again!” Nora shouted.
“Bye, slugger,” Henry chuckled.
While sitting on the bus, Barry was still replaying his mother’s words in his mind.
He had always known he was different—stronger than other kids his age, sharper, older in his thoughts.
He had tried to blend in once, but gave up quickly.
Fake smiles, shallow friendships—they weren’t worth it.
Loneliness was easier, familiar.
He reached into his bag, pulled out a book, and began to read.
“Mornin’, Barry.”
A familiar sing-song voice pulled him back.
“Good morning, Iris,” Barry replied without even looking up.
He already knew whose voice it was.
Sure enough, when he raised his eyes, he saw Iris Ann West—black hair tied neatly into twin braids, her warm brown skin glowing in the morning light.
His first friend in this life.
“What ya doin’?” Iris asked as she slid into the seat beside him, leaning over curiously.
“Reading.
Until you disturbed me.”
“Sorry I disturbed your little nerd book,” she teased, sticking her tongue out.
“Excuse me, this book is the epitome of knowledge—something you wouldn’t understand.”
“Yeah, yeah.
Nerd.”
They always fell into this rhythm.
Iris was the only one who could annoy Barry without consequence, and she seemed to enjoy that privilege.
“Could you two not start bickering this early in the morning?” another voice cut in.
Barry and Iris turned to see Alex Danvers, standing in the aisle with her bag slung over one shoulder.
Her black hair—streaked faintly with maroon—was tied into a high ponytail, and her bright eyes narrowed in mock annoyance as she sat across from them.
“Alex… it was Barry who started it,” Iris pouted.
“Good morning, Alex,” Barry said calmly, ignoring Iris’s complaint.
“Morning, Barry.
Morning, Iris.” Alex settled into her seat, smirking.
“Iris, I honestly can’t imagine Barry starting an argument.
He usually just ignores everything.”
“Alex, you always take Barry’s side!” Iris huffed, crossing her arms.
“That’s because she’s smart enough to realize who’s lying,” Barry said with a small smirk, before returning to his book.
Alex puffed out her cheeks, feigning arrogance.
“What do you mean, ‘smart enough’?
My dad says I’m very smart, okay?”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?
Are you saying I’m not smart?” Iris shot back, glaring at Barry.
Barry ignored them both, eyes scanning his book as though they weren’t even there.
“Humph!
I’m ignoring you both,” Iris declared, hopping up from her seat and marching off to sit with other friends.
Alex stayed behind, though her lips were pursed and her brows furrowed.
She edged closer to Barry, then gave his arm a playful punch.
“Hey!
What’s that for?” Barry asked, looking at her sulking expression.
She turned her head away with a huff, pretending not to hear him.
Barry sighed, shaking his head.
Girls.
Even with all his knowledge, he couldn’t keep up with the whims of these two precocious ten-year-olds.
As the bus rolled on, Barry found himself thinking about how he’d met the both of them.
Iris had been the first—his tablemate from the very beginning.
She had once shyly asked him for help with her homework, and when he agreed, she started bringing him homemade cookies and muffins as thanks.
That simple exchange had grown into a steady, if noisy, friendship.
Alex was different.
She had transferred into Carmichael Elementary a year later.
Back at her old school, she had been the star student—the top of her class, praised by every teacher for her brilliance and her passion for science.
But the moment she entered Carmichael and met Barry, her reign ended.
He outsmarted her without even trying, every challenge she posed ending in effortless victory for him.
At first, Alex had taken it personally, determined to outdo him.
Over time, though, their rivalry softened into a strange sort of friendship—still competitive, but warmer around the edges.
Between Iris’s teasing and Alex’s challenges, Barry had found himself in an odd trio he hadn’t expected.
For someone who claimed to be used to loneliness, he realized he wasn’t all that alone anymore.
School was as boring as usual for Barry.
Most of the time he stared out the window or scribbled calculations in his notebook.
He painfully watched the clock tick until, finally, it was lunch.
Taking his book with him, he headed for the cafeteria.
He sat alone at a table, eating quietly while reading the same book from earlier, when Alex and Iris joined him.
“Could you stop reading for one second?” Iris grumbled, plopping her tray down with a dramatic sigh.
“And what language is even that?” Alex asked, squinting at the book’s cover.
“Russian.
Vygotsky’s Psychology: A Biography of Ideas by Alex Kozulin,” Barry replied casually, surprising them both.
“Russian?” Alex leaned forward, eyes wide.
“Since when did you learn another language—and psychology, no less?”
“Psychology is a very interesting field,” Barry said, with a small shrug.
“It’s vast and complicated enough to keep me busy.”
“First Spanish, then Japanese, and now Russian…” Iris threw up her hands in disbelief.
“You were bored, so you just started learning foreign languages?” Even though they’d been friends for years, Barry’s intellect still caught her off guard.
“At least don’t read while you eat,” Alex muttered, snatching the book out of his hands.
“Fine,” Barry grumbled, picking at his food without enthusiasm.
As usual, Iris filled the silence first.
“Have you heard about Jenny?
She—” She leaned forward, lowering her voice as she began her gossip.
Alex’s eyes lit up with interest, and she eagerly leaned in to listen.
Barry, on the other hand, simply ate his lunch in peace, occasionally throwing in a dry comment here and there to remind them he was listening.
Their calm chatter was interrupted by a rude, impatient voice.
“Well, if it isn’t our resident nerdy-pants.”
A tall, broad-shouldered boy loomed over their table.
His confident smirk was enough to make the nearby students look over.
Iris immediately turned to glare at the boy.
“What do you want, Tony?” her voice was sharp.
Tony Woodward— arrogant, somewhat handsome and notorious as the school bully.
Their encounters had always been unpleasant.
He had tried to push Barry around before, but Barry’s indifference only made him angrier.
“I’m talking to you, Allen.
Always hiding behind girls—aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” Tony sneered, his voice growing louder as Barry calmly kept eating, acting like he hadn’t heard him.
“Leave him alone, Woodward,” Alex said sharply.
She stood and stepped in front of Barry without hesitation, her stance steady and deliberate.
Unlike Iris, Alex wasn’t just talk—she had been learning self-defense for over a year and was part of the gymnastics club.
Her posture made it clear she wasn’t afraid to use what she knew if Tony tried anything.
Seeing not one but two of the popular girls shielding Barry made Tony’s face flush with anger.
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t move closer.
“Coward,” Tony spat before storming off, his shoes squeaking against the linoleum floor.
Barry calmly finished chewing before speaking.
“He’s gone?”
“Yes, but Barry—you need to be careful,” Iris said, worried clear in her eyes.
“I heard he’s beaten up other boys before.” She nervously twisted one of her braids as she spoke.
“Relax, Iris.
He’s nothing but another annoying fly.” Barry unfazed, scraped up the last of his food and stood.
“I’m still hungry.
Do you girls want anything else?”
“Ahh, you’re always like this,” Iris groaned, dropping her head against the table with exaggerated frustration.
Alex, however, tilted her head and frowned.
“How can you eat so much?”
Barry smirked faintly, picking up his tray.
“I exercise.” With that, he walked off to get another serving, leaving Alex and Iris watching him with very different expressions—one worried, the other curious.