December 13, 2013.
The day had come.
The particle accelerator was set to go live.
Barry was called in to investigate a crime scene, and—as always—he was running late.
Police tape surrounded Central City Bank.
Officers stood guard, keeping the crowd back.
Detective Joe West stepped out of the building, his face tired but focused.
His partner, Fred Chyre, followed behind, breathing hard.
“The teller inside I.D.’d Clyde Mardon as the shooter,” West said.
Chyre groaned.
“The Mardon brothers again?
Didn’t you already put them away?”
“Yeah,” West replied.
“Ten to twenty years.
They served two.” He held up mugshots of Clyde and Mark Mardon.
Captain Singh walked up, his usual stern look in place.
“The suspects took the bank, then stole a car,” West reported.
“Shot a man on their way out.” He nodded toward the body under a tarp.
“CSI over it yet?” Singh asked.
“No,” West admitted.
Singh frowned.
“Where’s Allen?”
Right then, Barry Allen hurried over, ducking under the tape.
“Sorry I’m late, Captain.”
“At least you’re consistent,” Singh said sharply.
“What excuse this time?”
Barry simply said, “Traffic.”
Singh shook his head.
“Fine.
Show us what you’ve got, Mr.
Allen.”
Barry arrived at the scene, wearing gloves and PPE.
He crouched beside the body, speaking quickly but clearly.
“Multiple gunshots to the chest.
He was married.”
Chyre raised a brow.
“No wedding ring.”
Barry lifted the man’s shirt, showing a scar.
“He’s had heart surgery fairly recently.
A side effect can be edema—fluid retention.” He pulled out a necklace, the gold ring dangling at the end.
“Some men put their rings on a chain after swelling.”
Joe gave a small smile while writing everything down.
Singh said nothing.
There were tire marks on the ground that could have been from the getaway car, along with some dirt left behind.
Barry moved to the marks and observed.
“The getaway car’s a Mustang Shelby GT500.
I wear size eleven—add one more inch.
Shelby’s have a rear super-wide tire specific to that model: 12 inches with an asymmetrical tread.”
He bent down and scraped something sticky from the mark, sniffing it.
“Fecal matter.
Probably animal.” He took a sample in an evidence bag for further processing at his lab.
“The car most likely has been on some kind of farm.
I’ll have to run the sample in the lab to be sure.” Barry cleared the scene.
Singh glared at him.
“You’re lucky you’re good.”
He walked off, leaving Joe staring at Barry.
“You need to work on your timing.”
“I really was stuck in traffic,” Barry said helplessly.
Today was a special day for him.
“Sure you were.
Get yourself back to the lab.
Have that… specimen analyzed.” Joe did not believe Barry.
“The S.T.A.R.
Labs event is in a few hours.” Although not too interested, he still wanted to take a look.
Scientifically speaking, a particle accelerator could change how we look at reality—if it worked.
Joe gave Barry a look, knowing he wasn’t getting off that easy.
“Fine.
But I’ll leave as soon as I finish processing the evidence.”
“Deal,” Joe agreed.
Ever since Barry joined CCPD, the forensic lab had undergone a complete makeover.
The lab was too dark for Barry’s taste. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
He analyzed the sample while munching on fries.
As the machines did their work, Barry looked for info about the Mardon brothers.
“Okay, I’m ready to see the Atom Smasher… smashing,” Iris said as she approached.
Barry was supposed to go with her to the particle accelerator.
“Particle Accelerator,” Barry corrected her.
“And before we go, I need to finish my work.”
“Whatever.
Maybe I’ll get some ideas for my dissertation from this… sciencey stuff.” Iris placed her laptop on the desk, watching Barry concentrate.
“I’d prefer if you called it a scientific endeavor,” Barry said, taking the sample out of the machine and observing it under a microscope.
Meanwhile, Iris helped herself to Barry’s food.
“That’s mine,” Barry said, giving her a look.
No one touched his food.
“I’m stress eating, okay?
We started selling cronuts at Jitters.
I ate two today… three, if I’m being honest.
If I don’t graduate soon, I’m going to be more muffin top than woman.”
“You’ll be fine… and you’ll really get fat if you keep eating like this.” Barry gave her a small smile.
“Rude…..easy for you to say, Dr.
Allen, with three PhDs,” Iris rolled her eyes.
She never understood Barry’s definition of easy.
“Four, actually,” Barry retorted.
“And it’s just journalism.
How hard could it be?” For Barry, processing information was effortless; with total recall, he remembered everything.
Iris looked out the window at the skyline.
She saw the world’s grandest testament to science: S.T.A.R.
Labs.
“What’s so important about this… particle accelerator anyway?” she asked.
To her, the world’s excitement seemed bizarre.
“A particle accelerator is a device that uses electromagnetic fields to accelerate charged particles—like electrons, protons, or heavy ions—to near light speed and collide them, recreating conditions similar to the early universe and helping us probe the fundamental laws of reality,” Barry explained.
“You’re not speaking English,” Iris said, confused.
“It’s like a car crash test, but with tiny particles instead of cars.
By smashing them together, scientists see the parts that make up the universe,” Barry said in layman’s terms.
“Why is it so important?”
“By understanding the fundamental laws we can use them to change our understanding of the universe, allowing us to make new breakthroughs in all fields.”
“You need a girlfriend,” Iris said, losing interest.
“You need a smart boyfriend,” Barry countered.
Detective Joe West came to Barry’s lab
“You two at it again.
Barr, what do you have?” Joe came over.
As always, he saw the two bickering; not a day passed without it.
“Dad,” Iris said, hugging Joe.
“Well, my guess was correct.
The fecal matter I found on the street next to where Mardon boosted his getaway vehicle was cow manure.
There are ten dairy farms within a hundred miles of Central City.
But there were trace elements of oxytetracycline, an antibiotic.
Only four farms still pump their cattle full of antibiotics.
I also found pollen traces mostly abundant in the west side, leaving only two farms—here and here.
You’ll probably find a Mustang parked in one of those farms,” Barry said, narrowing the scope of the investigation.
He pointed to the map and gave his report.
“I hope you’re right about this,” Joe said skeptically.
“You know I’m right.” Barry ignored him while packing up.
“I believe my job here is done.
Iris, let’s go.” Barry put on his coat.
“Bye, Dad.” Iris kissed Joe and followed Barry.
They reached the S.T.A.R.
Labs facility, where Harrison Wells was about to give his initiation speech before the particle accelerator was turned on.
Protestors had gathered outside, and a large countdown clock ticked toward the activation.
“So, how was your trip to Starling City?
Did you find proof of the impossible?” Iris asked.
“It was fun.
I got to meet Felicity again.
As for the impossible… not yet,” Barry said, smiling faintly.
“Felicity?
Isn’t she the girl you dated at MIT?”
“Yes.”
“Rekindling old love?” Iris teased.
“Something like that,” Barry reminisced.
“What about you?
“I don’t know.
Graduation’s coming.
I’ve been busy.
Maybe I haven’t found the right one yet,” Iris admitted.
During their small talk, they reached the conference hall.
Dr.
Harrison Wells gave his speech.
Meanwhile, a mugger snatched Iris’s laptop.
Barry easily caught him and handed him over to Eddie Thawne, a transfer from Keystone.
Barry had no handcuffs, so he relied on Eddie to take the mugger.
Back at CCPD, Barry and Iris discussed whether to press charges.
Iris let the mugger go; no harm had come to her.
Iris’s attention was drawn by clapping on a TV screen.
The chyron read: “PARTICLE ACCELERATOR ON!”
“Oh, Barry, the accelerator… I’m sorry you missed it,” she apologized.
“It’s fine.
I got what I needed.
Also, look at your email.” Barry sent her a draft for her dissertation.
After reading it, Iris squealed in joy and rushed home to work, while Barry headed to his lab.
The weather outside turned stormy, and according to his calculations, he had ten minutes.
He needs to carry out his plan.
He entered the bathroom, where a secret door led to his delivery system.
He knew Wells was monitoring him, so he had to be careful.
Barry sat on the chair, bracing himself.
For the first time in a long while, his heart pounded nervously.
He had only one chance.
He took a deep breath and pushed the button.
Instantly, the serum began entering his marrow.
This time, the serum was stronger, so he had to go slowly.
This time the pain was much worse than last time,and worse he had to act normal for a few minutes in the lab.
The pain was growing more and more unbearable by the moment, even stronger.
Minutes felt like years.
He turned on the TV, reporting on the particle accelerator.
Eventually, Barry—still in the chair—saw a brilliant golden explosion bloom on the horizon.
The city plunged into darkness as the power grid collapsed.
He rose to his feet, gaze lifting through the shattered skylight just as a massive lightning bolt split the night sky.
Barry shut his eyes, bracing himself.
But what he felt wasn’t just electricity.
It was something different.
Another bolt struck, then another—nine in total—each one louder, brighter, more violent than the last.
The sound was deafening, the light blinding.
His lab shook under the onslaught.
Glass shattered, the ceiling cracked, rubble rained down.
Chemicals spilled, mixing across the floor as Barry collapsed onto the rack, the world spinning into chaos.
That was the last thing he remembered.
Unseen to him, a streak of violet-gold lightning crawled beneath his skin, the strange mark on his left hand pulsing with an ominous dark glow.
Inside his body, forces collided—the Omega Effect ripping through his DNA, tearing him apart and rebuilding him in the same instant.
The Gene Lock shattered, the hidden shackles on his potential breaking free.
Lightning and dark matter fused with his very genome, rewriting him on a level no human could ever comprehend.
What he would become—the true extent of this transformation—would only reveal itself in time.
The explosion from the particle accelerator sent waves of panic across the city.
At CCPD, alarms blared and radios screamed with reports.
The lab was in ruins, smoke rising from shattered glass and scorched walls.
Officers burst inside and froze—the sight of Barry Allen lying on the testing rack, his body covered in burns, the skylight above blown apart with rain still pouring through.
“Call 911!” one officer yelled, snapping everyone into motion.
Barry was rushed out on a stretcher.
But he wasn’t the only victim—across Central City, people injured by the blast or the strange storm flooded the hospital ER.
Chaos reigned as doctors and nurses scrambled to keep up, unaware that something extraordinary had just begun.
Iris rushed to the ER when Barry was being taken to the Trauma Unit.
He was unconscious, and ECG was flat.
The Doctors were trying his best to save him
“You can’t be in here.
Maam” A nurse stopped Iris from entering the room
“I’m Family” Iris was crying, her face full of undisguised shock and grief
“Barry” Iris saw how they were resuscitating Barry she called him her voice full of grief
In an adjacent room, another man was brought, he was Dr.
Harrison Wells.
He was also injured, supposedly, when the particle accelerator exploded, paralyzing his lower extremities.
He had a small smile on his face, he closed his eyes and let the doctors treat him.