Had the young woman been at Mercury Labs before this? The facility rang a bell—a research institution that rivaled Reverse-Flash's own cutting-edge operation, no small distinction. It was under Thea's ownership now, which meant the woman technically worked for her. Not that Thea could be expected to personally know any of the several million employees spread across her global portfolio.
The succubus attendant—well aware that her superiors were watching from the shadows—smoothly circled back to the question.
"Our guest, you want to be noticed, to achieve something extraordinary—and you're asking specifically for... super speed? Is that correct?"
The young woman's voice wavered slightly. "That's right. Speed. The fastest there is."
She paused, then added carefully, word by word: "I want the fastest speed available. Don't try to pass off some run-of-the-mill meta's power as the real thing—I'm a researcher. I'll know the difference."
She wouldn't actually know the difference, and both parties in the room were fully aware of that. It was a preemptive out—a way to avoid paying if the shop couldn't deliver. Thea almost had to admire the attempt.
"That woman's got some nerve," she murmured to Siren.
"Would you like me to give her a lesson she won't forget?" The Queen of Succubi had already begun condensing a soul arrow in her palm.
"Ha—hold on. Draw it out a little. Fair business is fair business. I want to see just how serious she is." Thea stayed her hand. The two of them continued to watch.
"You know the Flash? The one in Central City?" the young woman asked, eyeing the attendant with frank skepticism. She clearly thought this whole operation existed somewhere outside the realm of normal reality.
The attendant's response surprised her. "The Flash. Yes, we know him."
The young woman stared. She'd assumed this place operated entirely off the grid.
She didn't dwell on it. "That level of speed. Can you provide that?"
"We can. But the price would be beyond anything you can easily imagine."
"I'll pay. Whatever I have. All of it." Something ignited in the young woman's eyes—not desperation, but conviction. Even if it only lasted one second, she wanted to be someone people saw.
Thea studied her quietly. A long pattern of being overlooked had compressed her vanity into something dense and absolute. It wasn't hard to understand why Siren had flagged her.
She'll end up on a different path after her moment in the spotlight. Thea was already certain: this was exactly who she had been looking for. She raised a hand and froze time in a localized bubble around the young woman—slowing her consciousness to a thousandth of its normal pace.
"I'll be back."
She left the North Carolina shop and returned to Central City. There, she found Caitlin.
On Earth-2, Caitlin and Dr. Wells had developed a Speed Force enhancement serum—V9, they'd called it. Zoom had used it to get the edge on Barry during their race. Thea had subsequently absorbed the world's speed to defeat the Rival, and the two remaining V9 vials had been left in Caitlin's possession ever since.
Once Caitlin understood what Thea needed, she went to work immediately and produced five additional vials, handing all seven over without hesitation.
Back in North Carolina, Thea considered presentation. Test tubes and serums looked like lab equipment—entirely wrong for the Soul Exchange's mysterious ambiance. She stripped away every modern element. From a nearby tree, she carved out the heartwood, hollowed it, and poured the serum inside. Given the young woman's physiology—she wasn't a speedster, wasn't Barry Allen, just an ordinary person—long-term Speed Force exposure would tear her apart. Three vials of heartwood serum would be enough.
She handed them to the succubus attendant.
With a snap of her fingers, the time freeze lifted.
The young woman's mind picked up right where it had left off. "Can you actually give me that kind of speed?"
The attendant's tone shifted—she'd sensed how seriously the boss was taking this. "Yes. Completely."
"However... your body may not be able to sustain it. We're concerned that if you use this—"
"I'm a scientist." The young woman cut her off. "I understand the risks. Just tell me the price."
"Your soul. When you die, your soul will pass into our mistress's domain. And it will serve there for a very long time."
Silence.
The scientist half of the young woman's brain flatly refused to believe a word of it. Souls. Right. But then—if the shop could genuinely deliver Flash-level speed, they weren't exactly lying to her face either.
Doubt and anticipation, coexisting in uncomfortable equilibrium.
She thought of a story she'd heard—a C-list Hollywood actress who had seemingly developed extraordinary talent overnight. The thought steadied her resolve.
True or not, this is my choice.
The attendant produced three fist-sized pieces of heartwood and set them on the counter.
The young woman blinked. This was what the Flash had used to get his powers?
She picked one up and turned it over. The design was deceptively intuitive—a groove cut into the side, angled to drink from. She shook it gently. A faint sloshing sound. Peering through the gap, she caught a glimpse of blue liquid inside.
"The onset time is approximately three seconds. Is there anything else our guest requires?"
(Intravenous injection would have worked in under a second—the oral version Thea had prepared was slightly slower, but the effect was identical.)
The young woman pocketed all three pieces of heartwood and left without looking back.
That evening, at a charity gala in Central City, a young woman named Eliza Harmon took her first step.
In full view of every guest, she became a bolt of yellow lightning—and emptied every wallet in the room.
Under the alias Trajectory, she struck again and again across the city. Every headline screamed the same thing: The Flash Has Gone Rogue!
Barry came after her the moment he heard. A counterfeit Speed Force was no match for the real thing, and Harmon fell behind almost immediately. Desperation took over. She drank a second vial. The gap closed; they hit a dead heat.
Barry talked—a full speech, earnest and well-intentioned—but it didn't help. If anything, it pushed her further toward the edge.
Trajectory raised the third vial to her lips.
Thea, watching from a short distance, couldn't quite bring herself to stand by and let her burn up. She flicked her fingers. The vial—enchanted wood practically radiating mystic energy—flew out of Harmon's hand.
Trajectory clearly recognized her. She wheeled around with fury in her eyes and opened her mouth.
"That's enough." Thea leveled a single finger. Harmon's body, already pushed past its limits, offered no resistance—she crumpled, unconscious, before the first word left her mouth.
"Barry." Thea turned to him. "This one seems to have gained her speed through magical means. I'll take over the investigation."
Barry had enough on his plate. Savitar to fight, Wally to rescue—he didn't have bandwidth for a new speedster appearing out of nowhere. But seeing Thea reminded him of something. "...Hey, that trick you used against the Rival—gathering up all the speed—is that still an option?"
Thea thought it over, genuinely consulted the world's will, and shook her head. "Sorry. The world isn't interested right now. Last time was different—Earth-2 was in crisis. This world isn't, and it won't step in for an ordinary conflict. That method's off the table."
Barry looked deflated. He asked briefly about Batman, got nothing useful, sighed, and waved her goodbye.