"I wish I had cool powers too," Cisco muttered under his breath as he watched Victor training in his abilities. The room, unused due to Star Labs' lack of operations, had been quickly turned into a makeshift room for Victor's ice manipulation training.
Caitlyn ignored Cisco entirely, her curiosity overriding everything. What she was witnessing went against her understanding of biology. She'd observed Victor's cells multiple times over, but no matter how many times she did, she could never uncover their secrets.
The challenge once again ignited the spark that drove her towards bioengineering. She had two anomalies in custody, one capable of moving faster than a speeding train and the other manipulating cold at its fundamental level. It was hard not for me dtxo get excited.
Victor, on the other hand, was focused on using cryokinesis creatively since it was an ability he would be using most frequently to maintain appearances in his role.
He stretched his palms, letting the cold pull together in front of him. Mist gathered fast, tightening until an ice sword took shape in his hands. Its edges looked clean and dangerously sharp. He gave it a few slow swings, testing the balance and the bite, like someone getting a feel for a new tool rather than showing off.
Victor now stood in the middle of the room, sword in hand, eyes frosty, a faint layer of frost clinging to his outfit. The temperature had plunged, turning the air sharp enough to bite. A thick cold mist rolled outward from him, drifting in slow, ghostly waves and wrapping his figure in a pale shroud.
Through the haze, his silhouette took on an almost regal shape, the unmistakable outline of someone holding an ice sword, crowned by a formation of crystalline frost resting atop his head.
"Elsa, I think that's enough showing off for today," Cisco said, rubbing his palms together. The temperature had dropped into uncomfortable territory.
Victor simply shook his head at Cisco's words. The session wrapped up quickly after that. Cisco wandered off to check something on the monitors while Caitlyn approached Victor.
Her expression was cool but not unfriendly. He stared at her absentmindedly, unsure of what to say. Caitlyn, however, caught his fixed gaze, let out a quiet sigh, and asked, "What?… I don't think there's anything on my face."
He paused for a moment before speaking. "No, there's not… I just thought you'd look better if you smiled more," he said playfully, though it was clear Caitlyn wasn't in the mood.
She stopped for a heartbeat, then resumed removing the devices attached to him. "Why should I? It's not like I have anything particularly good going for me," she said casually, as if the words didn't carry the quiet sting they actually did.
"Is it about your fiancée?" Victor asked, his tone gentle but probing.
Caitlyn paused, her brows knitting together. "How…?"
"I overheard you and Barry earlier. Sorry," he said, genuinely apologetic.
Caitlyn let out a soft exhale, her hands still working on detaching the sensors. "Don't be," she murmured, though the slight tension in her voice said otherwise.
"You still have them, though," he added, nodding toward Cisco in the distance.
"Yeah… we're practically family," she replied, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at her lips before fading just as quickly.
When Victor finally stepped out of Star Labs, the sun was already dipping low, staining the sky with soft streaks of orange. Before heading out, he'd stopped by the med bay to check on Barry — the fractured hand had healed completely in just three hours.
After a brief exchange, they agreed to have a small celebration the night tomorrow, something simple but lively.
Now he was making his way to the grocery store. Dinner at his aunt's place was practically routine at this point, comforting, predictable, and exactly the kind of normal he needed to balance out the chaos.
Today, the responsibility of picking up the groceries had fallen to him, and he didn't mind. It gave him a reason to slow down and play civilian for a bit.
The journey was short but somehow never boring. Sure, he could have blitzed through it in seconds, but he chose not to. If he relied on superspeed for every minor errand, the thrill of it would fade faster than Cisco's patience on a cold day. Some things were better savored — even if they were just walks to the store.
Victor strolled along, the bag at his side bouncing lightly against his leg with each step. His pace was relaxed, lazy, giving him time to take in the familiar vibe of the neighborhood.
His eyes wandered from storefront to storefront, soaking in the everyday scenes. A barber sweeping tufts of hair out the doorway. A convenience store owner folding up cardboard boxes. A kid glued to his handheld console, walking with the confidence of someone who assumed the world would get out of his way.
It was mundane, ordinary, and honestly, a little comforting.
A tired-looking bus hissing to a stop. A couple arguing softly near a fruit stand, the vendor pretending not to hear them while rearranging oranges.
Victor let out a small breath and kept walking. Sometimes normal was good. Sometimes normal was enough, at least in the right quantity.
Just then, Victor's steps paused. His head snapped toward a darkening alleyway, instinct pulling him before thought could catch up. His auditory senses — usually kept suppressed for his own sanity — were released in an instant.
A tidal wave of noise from nearly a kilometer around slammed into his mind all at once. But with the enhancements he'd made, filtering through the chaos was easy. The sounds unraveled, until he found the one that didn't belong.
"How cliche," Victor thought sighing exasperatedly. He walked into the alley. It wasn't long before he reached the site of the ongoing incident.
Victor's eyes narrowed as he focused on the alley. A young woman was pressed against the grimy brick wall, arms raised defensively as three men loomed over her.
One held a knife that glinted in the fading sunlight; the other had his hands shoved into his jacket, probably concealing a firearm. The last man probably the leader of the group stood calmly allowing the two do the robbing. Their movements were sloppy but confident, the way amateurs thought they were untouchable.
"How'd she even get in this situation," Victor thought still observing.
"Wallet, now," the man with the knife demanded, his voice rough and impatient.
The womans voice trembled. "P-please… just take my purse and go…"
The man with the knife snatched the purse, quickly rifling through it before tucking it into his pocket. Satisfied, he let his eyes linger on the woman, a predatory glint in his gaze.
"Boss… is this all we're taking?" he asked, his stare still fixed on her.
The leader caught the implication immediately and shot him a sharp, icy look. "We're criminals, not monsters," he said, signaling for them to step back.
Just then, the sharp echo of footsteps bounced off the alley walls, snapping their attention to the source. The men stiffened, knives and jackets tensing instinctively.
The thug, hands buried in his jacket, stepped forward. "Who's there?"
Victor stepped out of the shadows, hoodie pulled low and a mask covering the lower half of his face. Superspeed made changing appearances like this disturbingly easy.
His gaze swept over the three men, lingering on the woman and the leader. They were the real reason he'd revealed himself—he could sense the others weren't too dangerous. Still, finding two Metahumans in one alley was rare enough to raise an eyebrow.
"That purse doesn't belong to you. Hand it back," he said, his voice deep, steady, and unmistakably different.
The two thugs exchanged glances, then laughed, sharp and incredulous. "And what are you gonna do about it, hero wannabe?"
"I suggest you beat it before you get beat," the other thug said, his confidence practically radiating.
Only the leader stayed silent, his eyes sharp, cautious, scanning the scene. Victor, blood boiling and itching for a fight, opened his mouth to retort—but the leader spoke first. "Return the purse to the lady," he said, already turning to walk away.
Even the two goons froze, caught off guard. They… aren't following the script? Victor thought, confusion prickling at him. Was this normal now? Didn't thugs usually charge first and think later
The two goons, snapping out of their shock, were about to argue—but a firm grip on a shoulder froze them.
With a reluctant grunt, the man holding the purse handed it over, his glare sharp and resentful. He fell into step behind his boss, silent now, the earlier bravado gone.
The woman, equally surprised by the sudden turn, stared at Victor, confusion written across her face. "T… thank you," she said after a pause.
Victor nodded and started to walk away. Of course, he made sure to take note of the two Metahumans—their abilities, having it in his arsenal, were far more useful than he had expected.
....
A/N: Don't forget to drop power stones and add them to your collection! Now, let's move on to the rankings. I'll do my best to update daily—except when exams get in the way. I've lost some of the discipline I once had, but I'm working on getting it back. Expect another chapter later today!!!