The city lights of Central City flickered beneath the night sky as Barry Allen, dressed in civilian clothes, walked down the bustling streets toward Jitters. The message he’d received was simple, cryptic even: “Meet me at Jitters.”

He wasn’t sure what to expect. The man who’d sent the message was a speedster from the future, Eobard Thawne. Barry didn’t know much about him yet, but Thawne’s recent acts of heroism had caught everyone’s attention. Even so, Barry couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about this entire meeting.

When Barry arrived at Jitters, his eyes immediately caught the figure standing by the window. Thawne, dressed in a sharp, tailored business suit, stood waiting, his eyes scanning the streets as if he were taking in the city for the first time. Barry hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. Thawne’s face lit up as he saw Barry approach. He gave a small nod and gestured to the seat across from him.

“Thanks for coming, Barry,” Thawne said with a genuine smile. “I’ve been looking forward to this.” Barry sat down slowly, still unsure of what to make of Thawne. “You’re the one making waves lately,” Barry said, crossing his arms. “What’s this all about?”

Thawne leaned in; his eyes gleaming with excitement. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time,” he admitted. “You’re an inspiration to me. In my time, you’re a legend.”

Barry raised an eyebrow, cautious. “Your time?”

Thawne nodded, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “The 25th century,” he said casually. “Even there, your legacy stands. But… I didn’t come here to talk about the future. I wanted to meet the man behind the legend.”

Barry couldn’t help but smirk. “You’ve been busy, but you don’t exactly look ready for action.” He motioned to Thawne’s suit. “What happened to the speedster suit?” Thawne’s smile grew wider as he tapped the collar of his jacket. “Who says I’m not wearing it?”

Barry blinked, confused. “Wait—what?”

Thawne tugged lightly at the collar of his suit, revealing a glimpse of something metallic underneath. “This suit?” he said with a grin. “It’s polymorphic nanotech. It shifts into whatever I need. Right now, I need to look sharp. But underneath, it’s still my speedster suit.” Barry chuckled, impressed despite himself. “That’s… actually pretty cool.”

Thawne nodded, pleased with Barry’s reaction. “It’s common tech where I come from. No need to change when your suit adapts automatically. Keeps things… efficient.” Barry leaned forward, genuinely interested. “So, your suit can turn into a business suit? And it’s nanotech?”

“Exactly,” Thawne said, tapping the dark sunglasses perched on his face. “Even these—part of the suit. They adjust to the light, protect my eyes when I’m running. Helps when you’re facing the sun at full speed.”

Barry laughed. “I’ve got to admit, that’s next level. My suit’s just compression microfabric. It handles high speeds but doesn’t exactly shift into a suit and tie.” Thawne leaned in, his eyes lighting up. “How do you get your suit back into your ring, though?” Barry smiled, holding up his hand and showing his gold ring. “It’s compressed into the fabric. I just focus, and it deploys when I need it. Simple, but effective.”

Thawne’s eyes gleamed with interest. “A ring that stores your suit… that’s brilliant. I’ve never thought about doing something like that. I mean, polymorphic tech is great, but a ring? That’s… another level of practicality.”

Barry chuckled. “Well, it’s not patented. Feel free to give it a shot.” Thawne smirked, a glint of admiration in his eyes. “Oh, I will.”

For a moment, they shared an easy silence—two speedsters, discussing the tech behind their powers like colleagues. But then, Thawne’s expression shifted, his curiosity taking a darker turn. “Tell me something, Barry,” he said, his tone more serious. “What can you tell me about the Reverse Flash?” Barry blinked; his confusion genuine. “The Reverse Flash?” he repeated. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Thawne tilted his head, studying Barry’s face for any sign of recognition. “Really?” he asked. “Because in my time, the Reverse Flash is supposed to be your greatest enemy. The one who’s caused you the most suffering.” Barry frowned, still confused. “I’ve never heard of him,” he said earnestly. “Why would someone like that be my enemy?”

Thawne leaned back slightly, fingers tapping the table as he spoke. “In the 25th century, the Reverse Flash is like a legend. He’s there, but… not. It’s like he’s a ghost in your history, always present but never fully seen. No one knows who he is. He’s supposed to be your greatest enemy, but it’s like he never existed.”

Barry shifted uncomfortably in his chair, a grim expression forming on his face. Without thinking, the word escaped his lips in a whisper.

“Flashpoint.”

Thawne’s eyebrows raised slightly, an expression of curiosity and intrigue crossing his face. “Flashpoint?” he repeated.

Barry’s eyes narrowed, the memories foggy and incomplete. “I’m not sure what you know, but… things were different before,” Barry admitted. “Flashpoint changed a lot. I remember some things—key details, people I’ve met… they’re the same. But other things… other things are gone. Memories are fuzzy, like they’re slipping away.”

Thawne leaned forward; his eyes locked onto Barry’s. “Maybe Flashpoint erased more than just your memories,” he said, his tone carefully measured. “Maybe… it erased the Reverse Flash too.”

Barry felt the weight of Thawne’s words. The idea that someone so dangerous had once existed, only to be wiped from existence, seemed both comforting and unsettling. But then, before Barry could respond, Thawne’s expression shifted, a faint, almost ironic smile tugging at his lips.

“Or” Thawne said slowly, leaning back with a knowing look in his eyes, “maybe he just hasn’t shown up yet.” The words hung in the air between them, thick with an ominous weight. Barry couldn’t shake the chill that crawled up his spine at Thawne’s comment. It was said so casually, so innocently, but the underlying threat was unmistakable.

Later That Night

Thawne returned to his futuristic lair, his steps slower than usual as he walked through the empty halls. The hum of advanced technology echoed faintly around him, but his mind was elsewhere, lost in thought. As he entered the main chamber, Gideon was waiting for him, her holographic form casting a soft glow across the room.

“How did it go?” Gideon asked, her voice curious, but he could already sense the tension beneath the surface. Thawne sighed, his frustration evident, but not because of their usual schemes or plans. This was something different. Something more personal.

“It went well, but… Barry’s more cautious than I expected,” he admitted, his voice softer than usual. “He mentioned something—a Flashpoint—something neither of us anticipated.” Gideon’s reaction was immediate, her holographic form flickering as her voice sharpened with sudden intensity. “Flashpoint?” she nearly spat, her tone brimming with insult. “The audacity to mention something I don’t know! The very idea that he would speak of it, something that eluded even me!”

Her words hit like a storm, her frustration filling the room. But this wasn’t about manipulation or strategy—this was something personal. Thawne could see that. He had never seen her like this, so vulnerable, so… human in her reaction. Without hesitation, Thawne stepped forward, his entire demeanor shifting. This wasn’t the Master Manipulator; this wasn’t about their plans. All of that faded into the background. Right now, it was just Eobard and Gideon.

“Gideon,” he said softly, his voice filled with affection, “I love you. Please, calm down. It’s okay. Barry doesn’t know what Flashpoint is. He doesn’t understand it, and that’s why it caught us off guard.”

But Gideon wasn’t soothed so easily. Her form flickered; the rawness of her anger still fresh. “How could he even dare mention something that I don’t know? He lost control of time—he broke something fundamental, something that should never have happened. And he speaks of it like it’s nothing!”

Thawne stepped closer, his voice even softer now, almost a whisper. “Gideon, I know this is hard to hear. But it’s not a slight against you. Flashpoint wasn’t planned by anyone. It wasn’t predictable. Barry didn’t mean it as an insult—he barely even remembers what happened.”

Gideon’s flickering slowed as his words seemed to reach her. She stood there, her form shimmering but more stable now. “But how could I not know?” she asked, her voice quieter, her vulnerability showing through anger. “I’m supposed to know everything.” Thawne gently placed a hand on the console near her, a grounding gesture, as if he could touch her. “I know, I know. But Flashpoint was an anomaly. A ripple that no one could have foreseen, not even you. It doesn’t change what you are. It doesn’t make you less than what you’ve always been.”

There was a long silence as her form stabilized fully, and Thawne could sense her calming down. “It’s just… the idea that something like that could happen without my knowing,” she said, her voice almost resigned. “It’s like I wasn’t good enough.”

Thawne’s heart tightened at those words. He had never seen her like this, so fragile. It made something inside him twist—a fierce desire to protect her, to shield her from that doubt. “Gideon, listen to me,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “You are more than good enough. You are everything to me. Flashpoint was an exception. It doesn’t define you.”

Slowly, Gideon’s anger faded, replaced by a quieter acceptance. She gave a small nod, her form steady now. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice almost tender. “I trust you, Eobard.”

Thawne smiled gently, a warmth passing between them. “Always,” he replied, meaning every word. For a moment, the world outside didn’t matter. The schemes, the plans, the manipulations—all of it felt so far away. In this moment, it was just the two of them, and Thawne felt that connection more deeply than ever. But as the silence stretched on, Gideon spoke again, her voice returning to its usual cool, calculating tone. “We can’t let this Flashpoint derail us. Barry has made cracks in time. He’s fractured things in ways that we can use.”

Thawne’s smile slowly shifted, taking on a different edge now. He nodded; his eyes gleaming with understanding. “Yes,” he agreed. “Barry has cracks, and with those cracks, we can weave ourselves into them.” The tenderness of their moment lingered in the air, but now it was fused with purpose. They had found the opening they needed. As Thawne turned back toward the window, his eyes tracing the glowing city lights below, he knew this was just the beginning. The cracks in Barry’s life would be their entry point. And Thawne, more determined than ever, would take full advantage of them.