Wally West tightened the straps of his borrowed ice skates, the white blades glinting against the cold sheen of the frozen ground. He stood tall, looking at Shanna and her son Matthew, both perched on his back, their arms wrapped around his neck.
Wally: Alright, you two, are you ready?
Shanna: Ready as we'll ever be!
Matthew giggled excitedly, holding on tightly.
Matthew: Let's go, Mr. Fast Man!
Wally smirked, crouching slightly to prepare for his burst of superspeed.
Wally: Alright, hang on tight! The Red Runner Express is leaving the station!
With that, Wally took a single powerful step forward and immediately lost balance, his skates wobbling under the weight of his passengers.
Wally: Whoa—
He fell forward in an unceremonious heap, sliding across the ice a few feet with Shanna and Matthew tumbling off to the side.
Wally: Dang it!
Shanna helped Matthew up, dusting off his coat before glaring at Wally, who lay sprawled on the ice, groaning.
Shanna: Seriously? Some "Express" you are.
Matthew laughed, pointing at Wally.
Matthew: You fell! That was funny!
Wally rolled onto his back, groaning dramatically.
Wally: Okay, so… maybe carrying two people wasn't the best idea.
Shanna crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed.
Shanna: What now, genius?
Wally sat up, brushing frost off his suit.
Wally: Plan B.
Shanna: Which is?
Wally pointed a finger between her and Matthew.
Wally: I carry one of you at a time.
Shanna raised an eyebrow.
Shanna: Oh, so I get to be stranded in the frozen wilderness while you ferry my son? Or do you plan to leave the kid alone while you play taxi?
Wally grinned sheepishly.
Wally: I mean… we can vote on it?
Shanna groaned, shaking her head.
Shanna: Fine. Take Matthew first. I'll manage on my own for a bit. Just make it quick.
Matthew hopped excitedly, already climbing back onto Wally's back.
Matthew: Yay! Super fast ride!
Wally, now standing, tightened his grip on the boy.
Wally: Alright, buddy. Hold on tight. And Shanna? Don't worry. I'll be back for you in a flash.
Shanna rolled her eyes, watching as Wally took a cautious step forward on his skates, then another, before finally zipping off in a blur of red lightning.
Shanna: He better be, or I swear I'll freeze faster than this stupid ice rink of a jungle.
-Back to Yatch-
A streak of red lightning shot across the frozen landscape as Wally West, carrying Matthew Plunder, skated swiftly to the yacht. The once-bustling vessel now stood eerily silent, its deck coated in a thin layer of frost. Wally slowed to a stop and stepped onto the yacht, his skates clanking against the icy surface.
Wally: Jimmy! Tigra! Guys!
His voice echoed across the empty deck, but there was no response. The yacht was abandoned. Unease settled over him as he scanned the surroundings, his sharp eyes picking up signs of a struggle—overturned chairs, scattered equipment, and claw marks etched into the frost-covered walls.
Wally knelt down, gently setting Matthew onto the deck.
Wally: Alright, kid, listen up. Stay here and don't touch anything, got it?
Matthew looked up at him, wide-eyed but nodding obediently.
Matthew: But what if the bad guys come?
Wally crouched to his level, resting a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder.
Wally: If they come, you hide. I'll be back before you know it.
Matthew hesitated, clutching Wally's sleeve.
Matthew: Promise?
Wally forced a grin despite the pit growing in his stomach.
Wally: Promise. Now, sit tight.
He stood, taking one last glance around before turning towards the cabin.
Wally: (Where the hell is everyone? And what happened here?)
The sound of creaking metal made him stop mid-thought. He turned sharply, scanning the yacht's icy deck as tension crept up his spine. Something wasn't right.
Wally: Alright, Jimmy... wherever you are, I hope you're still breathing.
-Meanwhile in Stryker's Command Tent-
The air inside the massive, darkened tent was thick with tension. Weapons and maps of Savage Island were scattered across a central table, illuminated only by the eerie blue glow of a holographic display. William Stryker stood tall, his military jacket buttoned to perfection, a cold and calculating expression on his face.
Before him, a flickering hologram of Mr. Sinister shimmered in the air, his sinister red eyes glinting with malice and intellect.
Stryker: We've encountered some... interference.
Mr. Sinister raised an eyebrow, his sharp features showing mild amusement.
Mr. Sinister: Interference? From whom, Stryker? Surely not the local fauna.
Stryker's lips twitched in irritation.
Stryker: A speedster. Enhanced with some unusual energy. He's been meddling with our operations and escaped an ambush. There's also intelligence suggesting an external team, possibly led by Jimmy Woo.
Mr. Sinister chuckled softly, his voice dripping with condescension.
Mr. Sinister: Jimmy Woo? That relic? I thought you said this mission would be straightforward. And now you're telling me some fast-footed nuisance is causing problems?
Stryker leaned forward, his voice firm and resolute.
Stryker: This is nothing more than a minor inconvenience. My team will handle it.
Mr. Sinister tilted his head, his voice calm but laced with mockery.
Mr. Sinister: Your confidence is amusing, Stryker, but don't underestimate them. A speedster complicates things. I assume you've deployed Sabretooth, Toad, and the others?
Stryker: They've already engaged the target. We'll corner him soon enough. It's only a matter of time.
Mr. Sinister's holographic form leaned closer, his red eyes narrowing.
Mr. Sinister: Time is the one thing we don't have. The Savage Land holds untold potential for my work. Blizzard's power has already reshaped this place into a laboratory of possibilities. I won't have it jeopardized by your incompetence.
Stryker clenched his fists but kept his composure.
Stryker: Rest assured, Sinister. The Savage Land will remain under our control, and this thorn in our side will be eliminated.
Mr. Sinister smirked, his expression both pleased and menacing.
Mr. Sinister: Good. Because if you fail, Stryker, I'll handle matters personally. And trust me, you won't enjoy my methods.
The hologram flickered and vanished, leaving the tent in a heavy silence. Stryker stood still for a moment, his jaw tight, before turning to a subordinate standing by the entrance.
Stryker: Increase patrols around the perimeter. Deploy our strongest units. I want that speedster and anyone aiding him brought to me alive. Do not fail me.
Subordinate: Yes, sir!
As the subordinate rushed out, Stryker stared at the fading hologram, his mind racing.
Stryker: (They think they can stop us? Let them try. This is my operation. And no one speedster or otherwise will stand in my way.)
The flap of the tent rustled open as Toad, Blizzard, Lady Deathstrike, and Blob entered. The group carried an air of menace, though it was clear they'd seen better days. Their boots crunched over the frosted ground as they stepped in, weapons gleaming and attitudes sour.
Stryker, standing at the central table, looked up from a map of the Savage Land, his expression as cold as the frozen wasteland surrounding them.
Stryker: You're late.
Blizzard: We've got bigger problems than punctuality, Stryker.
Blizzard's frosty aura seemed to intensify as he spoke, but it didn't mask the frustration in his voice.
Stryker: Where's Sabretooth?
Blizzard hesitated before responding, his frosty demeanor giving way to a grim expression.
Blizzard: He's... recovering. That speedster hit him with a lightning attack—fried his brain pretty bad. He's alive, but barely. Healing factor or not, it'll take him time to get back on his feet.
Toad leaned against a support beam, his long tongue flicking out as he sneered.
Toad: Yeah, the little red blur left ol' Sabey looking like roast beef. He's lucky he's not a goner.
Stryker's jaw clenched, and he slammed his fist on the table, the sound echoing through the tent.
Stryker: Pathetic. We're being outmaneuvered by a glorified lightning rod. Sabretooth was supposed to be unstoppable.
Lady Deathstrike crossed her arms, her cybernetic claws glinting in the dim light.
Lady Deathstrike: Underestimating the enemy was your mistake, Stryker. We weren't prepared for someone that fast.
Blob chuckled darkly, his massive frame shaking as he leaned closer to Stryker.
Blob: I say we stop worrying about Sabretooth and just crush the little bug like the pest he is. Let me at him.
Blizzard raised a hand, his icy energy crackling as he spoke.
Blizzard: Enough, Blob. The speedster is dangerous, but he's not invincible. We know his limits now. Next time, he won't escape.
Stryker glared at them all, his frustration boiling over.
Stryker: There won't be a next time for mistakes. This isn't just about the speedster. There's a team out there Jimmy Woo's team. They're trying to disrupt everything we've built here.
Lady Deathstrike: So, what's the plan?
Stryker: We regroup. Focus our efforts. Blizzard, you're leading the next operation. Freeze every escape route they might use. Toad, you'll scout for any weaknesses. Deathstrike and Blob, you'll stay on standby for reinforcement. I want them captured or dead.
Blizzard smirked, his icy aura intensifying.
Blizzard: Don't worry, Stryker. By the time I'm done, they'll wish they'd stayed far away from the Savage Land.
Stryker: Good. And if any of you fail me again, you'll answer to more than just Sinister. Do I make myself clear?
The group exchanged tense glances before nodding in unison.
Toad: Crystal.
Blob: Loud and clear, boss.
Lady Deathstrike simply nodded, her claws flexing with a metallic hiss.
Blizzard: We'll handle it. Just make sure Sabretooth doesn't hold us back when he gets up.
Stryker's icy gaze swept over them.
Stryker: Then get out there. Make them pay.
The group exited the tent, their footsteps crunching over the frozen ground. Stryker turned back to the table, staring at the map with a renewed intensity.
Stryker: (They want a fight? I'll give them one they'll never forget.)