[November 1st, 2470]

Distinct tones of chatter rumbled inside of his ears, mixtures of murmurs and mumbles as he ran past the people those voices belonged to. Like a rat scurrying across. Carmine's throat was dry, his chest felt like it was being compressed. But still he ran across the streets of Central City, maneuvering around the crowds as best he could in his hurry.

"Rocket-Ship can you hear me?!" Carmine asked desperately, clutching the phone so close to his ear that the two could have been glued together."

"..dad..Dad, I'm scared." A young girl confessed, her voice shaky. He could hear the sounds of metal creaking and groaning. Knowing the danger they were in absolutely killed Carmine, knowing the terror and fear she was in.

"Don't be scared, Rocket-Ship, I'm on my way ok? Can you put mom on the phone for me?" He tried his best to reassure her.

"Carmine!" A woman on the other end breathed frantically, fear creeping up within her voice.

"I'm on my way, Moira, alright? Tell Dana it'll be ok." Carmine explained, his heart was soaring. Each second felt painfully drawn out as he eventually found himself in a crowd of people all gazing at the building. His fears were confirmed, the building was aching, like a diseased body. The metal creaked and groaned. The foundation wasn't secure yet. It wasn't secure yet and Carmine knew that but it didn't stop the building from still being constructed earlier than planned. He didn't know what he could do, but he had to get them out. He pushed and prodded his way through the crowd, desperately stumbling and trying to get to the building. To get to them. He could see the smoke billowing out from underneath the building, his frustrations only grew more as he could hear the metal's groans growing louder and louder. He wanted to rush through but he was stopped by several cops and firemen.

"Sir you can't—"

"Please-PLEASE, my wife and my daughter are...they're—PLEASE!" Carmine stammered. Struggling to push through. It all happened to fast. The ground rumbled, firefighters began to shout, suddenly Carmine was pushed back. He stumbled back into the crowd, the last sight he saw before the smoke clouded his vision was of the building going down. We don't really realize how good we have it until it all ends. Carmine's life ended on that day.

[BIC]***

[The Flash Museum: September 6th, 2462]

"You're wrong!" Eobard shouted at the top of his lungs, which in hindsight may not have been the best idea. He stood atop of the bleachers inside of the large lecture room, one of many that the Flash Museum had. Rows upon rows of people turned their heads back to stare back at Eobard. Some were curious, others were angry at his brash attitude. Eobard just zoned them out. What mattered was the standoff between himself and the so-called Flash 'expert' the museum had brought in.

"I'm sorry, Mr.." The lecturer asked for his name, a look of surprise on his face that someone was so brash as to question him.

"Eobard Thawne. I apologize for my being abrupt, Professor Drake."

"That's quite alright, Mr. Thawne.." Professor Drake reassured Eobard. Despite being a professor he wore a white labcoat as if he were a scientist, but perhaps that was appropriate when discussing the matters of the Flash. The Flash was more than a singular person, it was a concept. A culture. For proof of this one had to look no further than to the Flash museum. The mecca for all things related to the scarlet speedster. "Now why do you say that I'm wrong?"

"I'm glad that you've asked. You stated that the Flash died in the Crisis. But that's not true." Eobard explained, much to the dismay of the audience, their boos did little to faze him however.

"Is that so? But Eobard, a funeral was held for the Flash days after the Crisis ended. The service was attended by the Justice League, the Justice Society. Are you willing to call a significant amount of the superhero community liars?" Professor. Drake had raised a good point. To put something like this into question was certainly alarming. Well alarming to some.

"I'm not calling any of them liars, all I'm saying is that maybe their mourning was premature." Eobard suggested rather irresponsibly. He knew what it meant to call the status quo into question. But he still believed that he knew the Flash better than anyone else. The members of the audience shifted their heads back and forth between the two like they were observing a tennis game. "Now look, it's true that the Flash 'vanished' in the Crisis, but how do you explain two months after? Several witnesses reported seeing him speeding across the city. Several. This couldn't have been the Kid Flash because at this time he was still in Keystone, in fact he didn't become the Flash until atleast three years after the Crisis."

"There have been numerous points in history when groups of people reported seeing the same thing and yet they've always turned out false, at the very least not what they originally believed. That's a theory that has no proper basis behind it, Eobard. It's as far-fetched as Big Foot."

"But the difference between this and Sasquatch is that the Flash was real. He also wasn't fat and hairy." Eobard defended.

"This museum, while at its core about the Flash's history, is still founded on empirical data and facts, Eobard. Crackpot theories are not welcome here."

"Ok.." Eobard then knew that it was time for plan B. He pulled his NOVA out from his pocket, promptly turning it on. A bright blue hologram projected out. The hologram read in big bold letters: An Interpretation of the Mechanics of the Speed Force. "Fine. Forget that if you want. But consider giving this a read. I think that I have some great insights onto how the Speed Force works. I really believe that we can look at this as a base to then figure out what really happened to the Flash."

"Guards?" Professor Drake asked tiredly, several guards began to crowd over Eobard, beginning to lead him away. Eobard felt insulted, a brilliant mind like his being treated no better than a common heckler.

"This place is supposed to be a mecca for the greatest minds! I'm on to something! Just—just wait!" Eobard heard distinct mumbles and chuckles from the crowds as the guards lead him out the door: rather forcefully shoving him out.

[BIC][Central City Aerodrome]

"We need to find this guy fast." Augustus told Eobard. The recent news of an airplane exploding had sent the members of the CCPD on high alert.

"This HAS to be in connection to what happened with the monorail, right?" Eobard asked him as they walked through the airport hanger bay, which had now been forcibly closed off to the CCPD for investigation. Eobard felt a rush of excitement which perhaps was inappropriate given the circumstances. As they walked, Eobard's eyes gazed over the massive airplane which had been out in the center of the hangar bay. It was covered in scorch marks, much of the exterior was burnt. The wings however were still intact, Eobard could see white paint from the patches that weren't burnt into oblivion. Eobard assumed it must've been a wide-body airliner. One that, given its size could fit quite a large amount of people onboard. Truthfully, Eobard wasn't one to care much for aviation. Given this era's many strides in technological advancements, global travel had underwent in evolution thanks to zeta beam technology. The technology could send people across the planet within mere minutes. But traveling via Zeta beam was quite expensive. So expensive that only the top 10% were ever able to truly enjoy the advancement. Profit, Eobard thought, it often impeded progress. Eobard finished his thought when he took notice of the multiples firefighters standing around the airliner, a firetruck beside them spraying water all around the damaged plane.

"Fire department's on this too?" Eobard asked as if it wasn't an obvious choice for the manner.

"Well Eobard that's typically what we do when there's a lot of fire around." Augustus replied sarcastically.

"They didn't show up at the monorail."

"We were lucky, instead of fires forming from that explosion we just got the blood shower."

"Good for us.." Eobard commented. Once the two got close to the remains of the airplane, Augustus greeted one of the firefighters, the two shaking hands.

"It's great to see you again, Augustus!" The firefighter exclaimed, his face was covered in soot. Even staining the grey mustache that draped over his upper lip. His hair, or whatever was oeft of it, was tucked under his yellow helmet, He wore a yellow leather firefighter's jacket. Painstakingly yellow in fact, the kind of yellow that stood out like Big-Bird at a funeral. Eobard couldn't help but fixate on that one tedious observation. He wasn't really one to care much about choices regarding to fashion but he couldn't imagine wearing something that bright and that tacky. Hideous, Eobard thought to himself.

"Pleasure's all mine, Captain Penn." Augustus replied, shaking his hand.

"Who's your friend?" Pen asked quizzically, nodding toward Eobard.

"Eobard Thawne, pleased to meet you." Eobard introduced himself, smiling dryly as he lurched forward to shake Penn's hand.

"So, how'd this happen?" Augustus asked.

"From what the airport control's been telling us, the plane was an Excalibur VF-18."

"Wow, that's a pretty powerful one, isn't that one of the planes made from Stagg Conglomerate?" Augustus commented.

"Sure is, but the airplane wasn't scheduled for any immediate flights. It had been sitting here stationary for about two days. Some of your guys pulled the body out before we got here. I wish I could tell you more, but that's all that I really know." Penn explained.

"Thank you, Penn. Augustus, why don't we take a look at the body?" Eobard suggested. The two then breaking away from Penn and the remnants of the scorched plane. They went across the hangar bay and approached the CSI's, Eobard's eyes lit up with fascination a he managed to get a good look at the body. It was a good look, but it wasn't a perfect one, which Eobard sought to correct as he not-so-gently nudged a few CSIs away in order to get closer to the body, crouching down to observe it.

"Sorry." Augustus apologized to the annoyed CSIs on Eobard's behalf. The body was not unlike the one they had found earlier on the monorail, it was a man, rather burnt to a crisp, it would be hard to properly ID him without an autopsy but Eobard figured he was probably within his mid 40s. However unlike the first one, this body was not separated in half.

"Something's wrong with this body." Eobard declared as his eyes were glued to the corpse.

"Gee, you think?" Augustus asked trivially.

"No, I mean the last one was noticeably split in two. Blood was everywhere. It looked like half of her body was bit off by a shark. But this one...other than being burnt to a crisp it's perfectly fine."

"I think you and I have a different understanding of the word." Augustus joked, earning a few chuckles from the crowd of CSIs around them. Eobard simply rolled his eyes and raised his hand up, attempting to shoo the crowd of CSI's away.

"Alright, guys, take a little break." Augustus advised the group, which gladly dispersed upon his request.

"Try not to be quippy right now, tell me what he's wearing." Eobard instructed him, standing up and letting Augustus get a better view of the body. The body was still horribly burnt, and the clothes he wore weren't much better. But Augustus could tell that he was wearing a jacket. He stepped closer to the body, he could see something sticking out from the jacket. It was horribly melted now, but he could tell it was brass. He squinted his eyes, hoping it would do him good, he could see that something was faintly imprinted on it.

"Was he wearing a badge...with a bird on it?" Augustus asked Eobard.

"That was the insignia for the Blackhawks. They were a squadron that flew planes in World War 2. The original team disbanded after the War ended but the full squadron didn't fully go defunct until 2003."

"Why would he be wearing this? Why would he target an empty plane too?" Augustus asked.

"I think it's a lot like with the woman in the Supergirl costume. These people aren't the masterminds. They're just puppets being coerced." Eobard theorized, yet still something was not adding up. How was it that both cases resulted in explosions, and yet this body was not nearly as worse for wear as the first? What did the possibility of the first being a metahuman mean? Eobard thought long before he next spoke, could this one also be a metahuman? If so, could his abilities have altered the explosion? Could his abilities have caused the explosion?

"We should get this body sent to the lab. Jynn can take a look at him." Augustus advised, practically reading Eobard's mind. He nodded his head in agreement, but not before taking one good look at the hangar bay.

"You said this was the Central City Aerodrome, right?"

"Yeah, why, is there something else you know?"

There was something special about this location, about the Aerodome, Eobard knew that. Even if he didn't entirely remember what it was. Regardless, Eobard knew that Central City was being duped, someone was orchestrating these hits and he feared that this would not be the last one.

"It's on the tip of my tongue, Augustus.."

[BIC]"In 2016, an A380 was arriving inbound from Washington, expected to return to the Leawood airport when it experienced mechanical difficulties. The crash would have been catastrophic had it not been for the Flash. In an impressive feat the Flash managed to phase the entirety of the plane, allowing for it to pass through several buildings and instead land into the nearby river. Leawood airport is now known as the Central City Aerodrome."

"YES! That's it. Thank you, NOVA." Eobard shouted out in joy, satisfied to have had his problem solved.

[BIC]"I am glad that I could be of some assistance, sir. Is there anything else you require?"

"No, that will be all." Eobard replied as he scurried out of his office, rushing to tell Augustus his most recent breakthrough. He practically ran down the hallway, pushing through several people walking past him. Once he reached the office he lunged for the door, practically ripping it open as he entered. He found Augustus seated at his desk, stacked with the familiar mountains of paperwork. Augustus had his eyes down on a case file and his hand attached to a fork, which was poking through a salad.

"Knocking, Eobard. It's a custom going back thousands of years." Augustus replied, not even having to look up from his work to know that it was Eobard who had stumbled in.

"I've got it now. I know why the Aerodrome felt so familiar. Several centuries ago it was known as Leawood Airport. One of their inbound planes nearly crashed into the city but they were all saved by the Flash. That plane? It was an A380."

"You just magically know all of this?" Augustus asked bemusedly.

"I don't have to, we have NOVAs afterall." Eobard retorted without missing a beat. "Now, A380s are fast, but not just that, they're a much earlier predecessor to the Excalibur VF-18!" Eobard exclaimed, waiting for his a-ha moment to fully sink in. But to his dismay, Augustus simply nodded his head.

"Good job, Eobard." Augustus congratulated him before taking another bite of his salad, loudly chewing up lettuce and tomatoes.

"Good job? That's something you tell a dog for not chewing the carpet!" Eobard fired back defensively.

"Eobard, no offense but I'm failing to see the bigger picture here."

"Don't you see, Augustus?" Eobard asked as he leaned onto the side of the table. "Supergirl, Blackhawks, an airplane in an airport connected to the Flash. He's telling a story here."

Augustus slowly leaned into his chair, considering Eobard's theory.

"What do you think this person is trying to say?" Augustus asked him as he picked a crouton from his salad and plopped it into his mouth much to Eobard's dismay.

"Probably some kind of warning. First it was the monorail, now the aerodrome, he's picking out major transportation hubs. But...the costumes tell me that it's more than just that. He knows quite a lot of his history...now would you please stop doing that?"

"Doing what?" Augustus asked, confusedly.

"Those chewing noises, you're smacking your fats lips together and it's rather annoying."

"I think that we're getting a little off-topic here, Eobard." Augustus rationalized.

It was quite stupid, and truthfully Eobard was getting defensive for no good reasons, but Eobard wasn't a normal person by any stretch.

"Something going on?" Jynn's voice cut in, the two bickering police turned their heads to see her. "Door was open."

"What is it, Jynn?" Eobard barked impatiently before sighing. "I apologize. Augustus and I were having a bit of an eccentric conversation."

"That's ok." Jynn responded, accepting his apology, she held a folder in her hands as she walked forward, placing it into Augustus' desk before continuing. "The autopsy of the second body is done."

"Is it.." Augustus asked, keeping his voice down. They were the only people who knew about the first body being a metahuman, and right now they couldn't afford letting the whole department know. Metahumans were known for being dangerous, and knowing that they could potentially be back would certainly set people on edge.

"It's P Negative." Jynn revealed. Eobard and Augustus both looked at each other with expressions of uncertainty.

"Jynn, close the door." Eoabard whispered, she nodded her head and shut the door, the three now being the only ones in the department knowing of TWO metahuman corpses.

"What the hell does this mean?" Augustus asked.

"I wish I had the answer but I don't. I'm sorry." Jynn apologized.

"Well, we can't just wait. Regardless of if they were metahumans or not, even though that SHOULD be impossible...well, we have to do something." Eobard urged. But what could they do? The truth was that they were like sitting ducks, just waiting for this mad bomber to strike next.

"We can try to figure out what his next hit will be. You said that he was hitting transport hubs." Augustus said, to which Eobard nodded his head. Yet would that be enough to suggest a pattern? What if the next hit was somewhere else entirely? Maybe they needed to lock down the entire city. But even then Eobard wasn't sure how effective that would be. They needed something to change the tide against this invisible force of evil they came into contact with. There was a loud crash outside of the office, to which the three all hurried out of the room. The main entrance doors had been pushed wide open, smoke had actually began to form like a black cloud. Officers all began to rush to the site of disturbance, several raised their firearms up.

"Hold on!" Augustus ordered, pushing through the crowd of officers, Eobard and Jynn followed behind them. It was now that Eobard could see what caused Augustus to call his men off. Amidst the smoke was a girl, she looked no older than 17. She wore tattered denim jeans and a red stained sweatshirt. Eobard quickly noticed that it was blood. Her hair stuck to her face as she heaved. Her entire face was pulsated red.

"Somebody get us a medic!" Eobard shouted out to the crowd. Augustus knelt down to the girl, carefully placing his hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright? What happened to you?" Augustus asked her. The girl still heaved, coughing up so much that Eobard thought she would either pass out to puke up a lung. But in spaced out breaths she managed to mutter something coherent to Augustus.

"...Architect...don't let him...find me..."