Later

The Flash stood in front of Thawne's cell, his tone firm but probing. "There weren't any tachyon traces left after the fire. Could they be tapping into the Negative Speed Force?"

Thawne, leaning against the wall with a mocking smirk, replied, "How could I possibly know? You severed my connection, remember?"

Flash didn't flinch. "You time-traveled a lot before that. Did you ever sense another speedster in 2022? Someone trying to stay hidden?"

Thawne's eyes gleamed with disdain. "Are you seriously this dense? Can you really not see the answer staring you in the face?"

Flash crossed his arms. "So enlighten me."

Thawne chuckled darkly. "No."

Flash stared at him for a long moment, then lowered his gaze, shaking his head. "I see. You're refusing to help because even after all this... you're still jealous."

Thawne scoffed. "Jealous? Of you? I pity you, Allen."

Barry looked up, his eyes sharper. "I didn't mean of me. I meant of them."

Thawne's expression faltered for a split second, confusion crossing his face. "Who?"

Barry stepped closer. "This new speedster—out there living a life you've lost while you're stuck in here, barely able to move. Their journey is just beginning. Yours... is already over." He paused, his voice quiet but cutting. "What's it like knowing you've been replaced?"

Thawne's fury erupted. He lurched toward the cell bars, gripping them with white-knuckled hands. "Replaced? I will never be replaced! No speedster will ever hate you like I do—pure, infinite hate! Hate! Do you understand that, Allen? I spent years hiding in plain sight, right next to you, just so I could destroy you. No one—no one—will ever feel what I felt for you!"

He rattled the bars violently, his voice echoing through the cellblock. Behind Barry, Damien smiled faintly, recognizing that Barry's plan to provoke Thawne was working.

Thawne, still gripping the bars, breathed heavily, his voice dropping into a menacing growl. "No speedster will ever hate you like I did. And because they don't... this new speedster? They don't care about you at all. There's another reason they don't want to be found."

Flash leaned in, his patience wearing thin. "So what is it?"

Thawne's lips curled into a cruel grin. "You really can't see it, can you?" He chuckled darkly. "I guess I am faster than you after all. Think about it, Allen. A new speedster, running through the streets with frightening speed... just like you eight years ago."

Flash's eyes narrowed as the realization hit him. "They're hiding because they can't control their powers. The fire... it was an accident."

Thawne's grin widened, satisfied with Barry's realization.

Without another word, Flash turned, grabbing Damien. In an instant, they sped out of the prison, leaving Thawne's laughter echoing in their wake.

Back in Central City

Flash sped Damien back to Central City, stopping abruptly in a shadowy alley next to Damien's bike. The air crackled with residual energy as Flash said, "If you still want to help, meet me at S.T.A.R. Labs, okay?"

Damien nodded, watching as Flash vanished in a streak of lightning, the electric trail lingering in the air for a brief moment before dissipating.

With a heavy sigh, Damien ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts drifting back to Thawne. There was something unsettling about the encounter, something he couldn't shake. He started to walk toward his bike, mind swirling with questions.

That's when he heard it—an eerie sound, like the faint rustling of shadows.

His body tensed. Slowly, he glanced to his left. Nothing.

Then to his right. The alley remained empty.

But as he turned to face his bike, a chill shot down his spine.

Standing directly in front of him, cloaked in darkness and exuding a malevolent energy, was a figure Damien knew all too well.

The Devil.

Damien raised a trembling finger, his voice low and sharp. "You."

Mephistopheles stepped forward, a sly smile creeping across his face. "Hello, Slade. It's been a while."

Damien instinctively took a step back, eyes narrowed. "Stay away from me."

"Oh, come now, Slade," Mephistopheles replied, his tone deceptively soothing. "There's no need to be hostile."

Damien's heart raced as he demanded, "What do you want?"

Mephistopheles leaned in slightly, his expression shifting to one of feigned innocence. "I don't want much—just a small favor from you. After all, I have your soul."

Damien's voice rose, filled with desperation and anger. "What do you want from me?!"

Mephistopheles said, "I want you to find someone known as Blackheart... and destroy him."

Damien scoffed as he mounted his bike. "Find him yourself."

He pressed the accelerator, but the bike remained motionless. Confused, he twisted the throttle again, only to be met with the same stubborn resistance.

Mephistopheles smirked. "It doesn't work like that. You're under a contract, remember?"

"I'm not doing it," Damien shot back, frustration boiling over.

"You don't have a choice," Mephistopheles replied, his tone shifting to something darker. "Especially since Blackheart wants to kill The Flash. This is the only way to protect your brother."

Damien glared at him, rage flaring in his chest. But before he could respond, Mephistopheles slammed his cane to the ground, and flames erupted around Damien's bike's rear wheel.

The engine roared to life, smoke billowing as the bike sprang forward, leaving a fiery trail behind.

"Find him, and you'll protect your brother," Mephistopheles called after him.

With a scowl, Damien felt a surge of anger as his bike shot forward. He executed a wheelie, the front wheel igniting as he sped down the street. Cars trembled in his wake, some dislodged from their parking spots and crashing into buildings.

As he tore through the chaos, his license plate snapped off, lost to the flames.

He sped past a cop hiding behind a billboard, the officer thrown off his own bike by the force of Damien's speed. The cop glanced up, stunned, as Damien's motorcycle blazed a path of fire into the distance.

Damien veered right into a warehouse, but the sudden turn sent him tumbling off the bike, skidding across the ground. Pain shot through him as he scrambled to his feet, feeling a searing heat radiating from within.

With trembling hands, he began to move forward, each step a struggle against the burning sensation coursing through his body.

He groans, glancing down at his hands, and watches in shock as wisps of smoke begin to curl up from his fingertips.

Damien screams, tilting his head back as the searing pain feels like fire coursing through him. Suddenly, he shakes his head and bursts into laughter, the sound echoing eerily in the warehouse. An orange glow ignites in his eyes as he looks down at his hands, a mix of fear and exhilaration dancing across his face.

Damien shrugs a couple of times, and in an instant, he fully transforms into Ghost Rider. He lifts his head and unleashes a powerful roar that reverberates through the air. As he strides forward, he catches sight of a man in the distance.

Blackheart smirks and asks, "Looking for someone?"

The Rider narrows his gaze, pointing a finger directly at him. "Back to Hell," he declares, lowering his arm.

"I don't think so," Blackheart retorts, a confident grin spreading across his face.

Suddenly, a powerful gust of wind strikes the Rider, pushing him back until he's suspended by a chain around his neck. Blackheart's laughter echoes through the alley, but it falters as the Rider's head bursts into larger flames. The Rider yanks on the chain, causing Blackheart's expression to shift from amusement to alarm.

As the Rider steps closer, he halts mid-alley. He looks down to find himself standing in water, and as he peers closer, a face emerges from the depths, screaming in anguish.

A horn blares from a vehicle, snapping him back to reality. He glances up just in time to see a truck barreling toward him, crashing him against the wall.

"Oof," Blackheart winces, then a satisfied smile creeps back onto his face.

A man stepped out of the truck, brushing off his jacket as he glanced back at the front of the vehicle. "Guess he ain't so tough," he said with a cocky grin. He jumped down and started to walk toward Blackheart, Wallow, and Abigor.

As Gressil—one of Blackheart's enforcers—joined the group, he suddenly felt a firm hand on his shoulder and heard a voice behind him.

"Hey... dirtbag."

Gressil turned, only to come face-to-face with the Rider. Before he could react, the Rider delivered a powerful punch to his face, sending Gressil flying backward. His cheek cracked and crumbled, revealing that his skin had turned to dirt or sand. Slowly, it began to reform.

"Please... have mercy," Gressil begged, desperation in his voice.

The Rider ignited the chain in his hands with Hellfire, the flames crackling with intense heat. He looked down at Gressil with cold, unrelenting eyes. "Sorry, all out of mercy."

With a swift motion, the Rider swung the flaming chain overhead. Gressil tried to flee, but it was too late. The chain wrapped tightly around his torso, the Hellfire searing through his body. He let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"Help me!" Gressil shouted, eyes darting toward his allies. But the Hidden had vanished, leaving him to his fate.

"No!" he screamed as his body began to harden, turning to stone. The Rider gave a final pull, shattering Gressil into pieces.

The Rider yanked the chain back with a flick of his wrist, the burning fragments of what was once Gressil scattered on the ground.

{{Without the spikes, he's not there yet.}}

The Rider shifted his shoulder, causing the chain to sway slightly. With a sharp whistle, he summoned his motorcycle.

He heard the roar of the engine as the bike barreled forward, crashing through the front of the truck with a thunderous impact. It skidded to a halt before him, and as he reached out to touch it, the bike began to transform, morphing into the Hellcycle—a blazing embodiment of fury and power.

The Rider mounted the Hellcycle and sped off, tearing through the streets toward the heart of Central City.

With Barry

Barry rushed into STAR Labs, urgency etched on his face. "Guys, have you heard the news?"

He shook his head, catching Joe's concerned expression. "No. What's going on?"

Joe replied, "The streets are a wreck. There's one set of tire tracks, and it looks like a motorcycle caused a lot of damage."

Barry nodded, absorbing the information. "Got it. I'll check it out, but not right now. I'm still tracking down Patty. How's Iris?"

Joe replied, "She's doing fine."

Barry nodded, though his mind was already racing with possibilities.

Back with The Rider

The Rider sped down the street, the wind whipping past him as he crossed a bridge. Suddenly, a woman's frantic voice pierced the air: "Help! Help!"

He skidded to a halt in the middle of the road and quickly dismounted. Ahead, he spotted a man assaulting a woman.

With a fierce determination, he leaped down, and the mugger froze, abandoning his attack. As the woman turned toward him, The Rider's heart raced—he recognized her. It was Iris West.

The Rider shrugged, and Iris turned to him, breathless. "Thanks," she said before running off.

But she didn't get far. Glancing back, she saw him approaching the mugger.

"Okay, man, I don't want any trouble with a Fire Meta," the thug stammered, backing away. "I'm sorry!"

The Rider grabbed him by the collar and said, "Look into my eyes."

In a panic, the man pulled out a knife and stabbed it into The Rider's shoulder. The blade sank in, but as the mugger yanked it out, it melted away, leaving no mark.

The Rider groaned. "Your soul is stained by the blood of the innocent."

The thug trembled in his grip, fear etched across his face. "Feel their pain."

Screams of agony escaped the man as he experienced the suffering he had inflicted on countless victims. The Rider dropped him, and Iris gasped at the sight.

She slowly approached, concern in her eyes. But then, as the sun began to rise, The Rider screamed, "No!"

Iris watched in horror as his skin started to reform, but this time it was different. Each inch that regrew felt like a fire igniting beneath the surface. He howled in anguish, "Nooooo!" as waves of excruciating pain coursed through him, tearing at the remnants of his transformation.

"What's wrong?" Iris asked, panic rising in her voice.

"NOOOOO!" The Rider shouted again, his body writhing as his flesh knitted itself back together. Amidst the chaos, she heard another voice—Damien's—echoing in desperation, "Nooooooo!"

As she looked closer, she saw Damien crawling toward her, struggling to reach her. His expression was one of pure torment.

"I-Iris. Is it... you?" he gasped, his voice trembling.

"Yes, it's me. It's Iris. Who are you?" she replied urgently.

With great effort, he whispered, "It's... me. Damien... Allen," before slipping into unconsciousness.

"Damien?! Wake up!" Iris shouted, shaking him as panic gripped her heart.

Spotting his bike nearby, she quickly hoisted him up, dragging him to it. "Come on, Damien. Stay with me."

She propped him up in the front seat, climbed onto the back, and added, "I'm sorry if I ruin your bike on the way. It's been a while since I drove one."

With determination, she started the engine and sped away, holding onto Damien tightly to keep him from falling off.

To be continued...