Stop! My brain rambled but like a mute I couldn't say a word. I ran and ran but the speed of a flash appeared every blink of my eye. As a speedster it was only right that perhaps my enemies Savitar and Devoe worked in collusion towards my defeat, but that wasn’t it chief. How did one overcome his fears, how did one deal with treachery, who was even capable of understanding such circumstances; The Flash was, I was. Through the mist of the buildings I ran and ran creating a time vortex losing one, losing two, but not the third, I could only figure that the reason I was being chased was for simply being myself, a parody I thought but it was inevitable to ignore the reality of my life. So I kept running, this however did not solve anything ,my demons were getting to me and so was agitation. Kid flash! Could he help, perhaps that's why he was here, but it was only farcical; the attempt. It was miserable if I’m being honest, the title says it, Kid flash, now equaled torn sinew and missing viscera, that had to be me, but the more i thought of it the more I was needed, so that couldn't be me. I had to stick my ground, fight my demons and commence the the hunting myself, the heroic action of my brother, my son, my warrior Kid raged in my head like ball of flames cooked in the heart of the sun. So I did, restitution for the city, but retribution for me, Zoom, Savitar, and Devoe were gonna have it. Suddenly I tapped in, if not one time reverent maybe two or 3, how about 100. Spirits versus gods, the ultimate clash of warriors. Becoming a god myself would work as compensation, unbelievable it was, to be able to live through this, as I said the acquisition of this position would comfort my justice. Idiotic to feel penitent for the obliteration of the three, but Devoe, Zoom and Savi all deserved it, so I kept telling myself contrite was what I was feeling. As for me dead wasn’t an option, but being exiled for heroic actions was, and no one, no one would understand and the more alienated the the less pain I felt. Was it the death of those who couldn't be saved or the pain that those had from their loved ones who weren't saved. Who knew maybe both, but time, time could only tell. I accepted exile, and that wasn't it, I accepted the death of others as my fault, making me feel uncanny. But that wasn't the only thing I accepted, I accepted faith I accepted conspiracies, and I also accepted trust, making this whole situation quite eldritch. But I had to, there was no other way. I thought, while writing, even benevolence feelings won’t do right in the people's heart, but it was only righteous to try.