Hello my friend's. As i promised i came back with another novel. A beautiful one i hope everyone will enjoy it and like it. And just to make sure everyone understands. I used chatgpt to translation my novel from Arabic to English. So if there is some stuff you don't understand or find it a little bit weird i apologize for that. Now enjoy
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Chapter 1 – The Storm Before
Central City was always in motion. Cars whispered over wet asphalt. Neon signs blinked on the edges of buildings. People laughed outside diners, argued over cab fares, and hurried into warm apartments while the wind picked up the scent of rain and electric tension. It was the kind of place where change lingered on the horizon, always one breath away from something extraordinary.
And in the heart of it all stood Barry Allen, soaking wet again.
"Late," he muttered, eyes wide behind smudged glasses as he zigzagged through traffic, shoes slapping puddles. A backpack bounced on his shoulders, nearly falling off with every step.
"Excuse me—sorry—move, please—!"
He pushed through the glass doors of the Central City Police Department, dripping all over the floor. Joe West looked up from his desk with a long, patient sigh.
"You tripped on your own laces again, didn't you?" Joe said.
Barry froze mid-step. "...That obvious?"
"Your face says it. Soaked shirt confirms it. And I just got the report from the station in Keystone—same lightning-fast stumble right into a suspect's car door."
Barry groaned and flopped into a chair. "I swear, I'm fast at everything but running."
Joe smiled. "That's what I keep saying."
Laughter rose among the officers nearby. Barry rubbed his face with both hands, but behind the smile, his eyes flickered toward the television on the wall.
"Harrison Wells promises the future," the newscaster declared. "The particle accelerator at STAR Labs is set to launch tonight, ushering in a new era of clean energy, quantum innovation, and—if the rumors are true—breaking the laws of physics as we know them."
Barry watched, transfixed, as the image of the gleaming STAR Labs building appeared. He couldn't help it. There was something about it—about the promise of understanding time, space, motion itself—that tugged at something deep in him.
---
In the background, someone swept the floor.
No one paid him any mind. They never did.
His red hair stood out, but not in a way that invited conversation. It was short, slightly messy, as if he cut it himself. His work shirt was loose, sleeves rolled up, collar always half-buttoned. His eyes—hidden behind his lowered gaze—were a faint, faded red, barely visible under the fluorescent lights.
Dante Hart worked quietly. Always had. He moved around the department like a ghost, mop in one hand, cleaning cart beside him. When Barry ran by, people noticed. When Dante walked by, no one remembered he had been there.
And that was fine. He preferred it that way.
The past had taught him one thing—being noticed only led to pain.
In a small storage room near the back of the building, Dante cracked open the window and lit a cigarette with a flick of his thumb. The tiny flame from the lighter illuminated the sharp edge of his face, the hollows under his eyes, the faint scarring along his neck—faded reminders of nights he didn't talk about.
The smoke curled around his head like a ghost that wouldn't leave.
He exhaled slowly, leaning against the metal sink. He never smoked around others. Not out of shame—but out of silence. Most people didn't like it. But the chief knew. The man had read Dante's file when he offered him the job. He didn't ask questions. And he didn't tell him to stop.
The only time Dante felt calm was when there was smoke between him and the world.
---
He paused near the vending machines later, taking a moment to rest. Across the floor, officers drank coffee, passed files, talked about the excitement at STAR Labs. Some mentioned taking their kids out to watch the launch. Some joked about "the next Einstein" blowing up the city.
None of them looked at Dante.
Not even Barry, who passed by just inches from him.
He didn't blame them. To most people, he was just the janitor. The boy who looked like he belonged in high school, even though he was twenty-two. The red-eyed freak who barely spoke.
But they didn't know.
They didn't know about the years on the streets.
They didn't know about his little brother's bloodied face
They didn't know about the screams in the rain, begging someone—anyone—to help him.
They didn't know how quiet the world became once your hope finally died.
---
Dante walked back into the supply closet, shut the door behind him, and leaned against the wall.
He took out a small photograph from his pocket. It was old, the edges worn and bent. His mother, smiling. His brother, laughing with his head against Dante's shoulder. His own teenage face, trying to look brave for the camera.
He stared at it for a long time.
Then, quietly, he folded it and returned it to his pocket.
---
Outside, the sky began to shift.
Thunder rolled above the city. Not sharp cracks, but long, low rumbles. The kind that vibrated in your chest. People stepped outside restaurants to look up. The clouds had formed a spiral now—dark, thick, heavy.
A storm was coming.
Inside the police department, Barry was packing up his bag, excited and nervous. He was heading to STAR Labs to witness the accelerator's launch firsthand. As he turned to leave, he nearly bumped into Dante again.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't—"
He paused for a moment. Their eyes met.
Barry blinked. "Hey, do you work here? I've seen you around."
Dante gave a slow nod. "Yeah. I clean floors."
Barry smiled. "Cool. I'm Barry. See you around."
Dante said nothing.
Barry left.
---
The hours passed.
The launch drew near.
And as night fell, the city seemed to hold its breath.
---
STAR Labs – That Night
Rain tapped the windows like fingers. Inside, Barry watched the countdown from behind the glass wall of his lab. Harrison Wells stood at the center of the control room, arms behind his back, eyes gleaming.
"History in the making," someone whispered.
The accelerator powered on. Lights flared. Machines hummed. Energy pulsed through the walls.
But something wasn't right.
The hum turned to a scream.
Barry looked up, just as a surge of light exploded from the core.
And then—
BOOM.
A wave of lightning tore through the room. Glass shattered. Barry flew backward, crashing to the floor.
Across the city, lightning struck like divine wrath.
A few seconds before that happens
Dante was mopping the top floor when he heard it.
A crack. Louder than any thunder he'd ever heard.
He turned toward the window—and then the roof lit up with electricity.
He ran up the stairwell to check the source. His instincts screamed. The building vibrated.
He opened the door to Barry lab —and everything went white.
Lightning struck.
It hit Barry first—but the energy chain arced.
It found a second path.
Dante.
The bolt tore into him with a soundless scream. His body lifted off the ground and slammed into the wall.
Red sparks danced over his skin.
His heart stopped.
His vision blurred, light flooding into every cell of his being.
Then—
Darkness.
And
Silence.
A slow blink never came.
Somewhere in the depths of his mind, if there was still a mind to call his own, the world drifted.
He didn't wake up.
Not yet.
He just lay there—body scorched, chest rising barely, skin glowing faintly in the shadows of the destroyed rooftop.
Unconscious.
But changing.
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