Note: Alrighty, guys, I'm back with another chapter in your favorite Flash fic! And let me just tell you, this is where it starts to get really exciting. You can think of this as the real "Issue 1."

Cover- The Flash (Wally) running in front of a golden lightning bolt and a red background.

INFINITE FLASH

Present

Wally West let in a breath of fresh air and took in his surroundings. This was it. This was college.

The large, amber-colored buildings, the students milling all about preparing for the start of a new school year. This was what he had been waiting for. He was finally here. Four years of high school all led up to this…this greatness.

Well, his day hadn't really started out that great. After moving in to his room—roommate nowhere in sight—and a few fair well hugs and kisses with his aunt, Wally had decided to go out and socialize. And where better to socialize than a local bar, right?

So, with fake I.D. in hand, Wally headed out. And, as Wally soon realized, he'd made a mistake. 11 AM on a Saturday morning was no time to go to a bar, especially if you expect to meet college students. The only people in the bar were the serious alcoholics—those men and women who had drunk a little too much the previous night and had fallen asleep at the bar—and the bartender.

And so it was with an embarrassed smile on his face that Wally had left as soon as he'd come, and returned to the college…his college: Keystone University.

It was the perfect school. It was far enough away from Iris that Wally wouldn't have to endure the every-weekend visits like if he'd gone to CU (Central University), but it was still in-state and made it easy to return for the holidays. It also had a strong science program, something Wally was keen about. But, best of all, it had been awarded the 'Hottest Girls' award by the American Fraternity Press. And, Wally liked to think of himself as a bit of a ladies' man.

"Woowee," Wally whistled as three incredibly beautiful girls walked by. All three flirtively glanced his way.

C'mon, West, Wally mentally pushed himself, You don't have a girlfriend anymore. You're free. You're open. You can do this. You were huge in high school. You're smart, athletic, attractive; any girl would love to date you.

But then why am I so nervous?

Wally approached the girls and put on his most confident smile, "Hello, ladies."

The girls all looked at each other. The blonde in the middle giggled and the three kept walking.

"I…uh…"

It couldn't be…That giggle. Wally knew that giggle. The popular girls back in high school had always giggled that way around, Wally hated to say it, nerds. But they'd never laughed like that around him, at least not directed towards him. I mean, Wally was hot, right?

Wally had always felt bad for the kids who were being laughed at, but he'd always felt there was nothing he could do to help. But as Wally stood there now he realized he'd made a huge mistake. All he wanted now was for someone to come talk to him, to support him. He could've helped those kids back in high school in the same way he wanted help now. He'd…he'd…

And then the shock really hit Wally. He'd been rejected.

What the hell is this?

College wasn't at all like what people described, at least so far. And…and…

Wally realized too late that he'd been standing in the middle of the sidewalk, mouth agape, for more than five minutes. When he looked up, a couple by a tree were chuckling, every other second glancing up at him.

Wally needed to get out of here. He needed to get back to his room. Maybe there he could clear his head and think straight. Maybe there he could begin to wrap his head around college. Why was he acting so strange? Why were girls here impervious to his charm?

Wally hurriedly walked back to his dorm. Up two flights of stairs and down a hallway to a room labeled 217 Wally went. As Wally opened the door to his room, he silently hoped his roommate would still be gone. He needed some alone time.

No such luck.

A young man, clearly in his late-teens, early-twenties, was sitting at a desk typing into a computer. The young man had skin the color of summer-worn dirt and a round face, and to Wally, he looked Native American. He was dressed in a black sweatshirt and washed-blue jeans.

Wally shut the door and attempted to change his expression from that of a beaten horse to a more open, bright smile, "Um…hi."

"Shh!" The young man held up his hand, signaling for Wally's silence.

"Uh…"

"SHH!" The young man scowled.

Wally sat down, silent, onto what he had chosen as his bed. His bags were strewn all around in disorganized piles. One bag, or rather locker, in particular stood out to Wally…

"Alright," the young man swiveled around in his chair, "The name's Max Missichkonne. Call me Max Mercury. Everyone does."

Max took a deep breath and continued, "Let's get everything straight: I don't like people. I never have, never will. I don't like you. You don't, and most likely will not, like me. So, let's set up a few rules. We split the room in half, " Max pointed down the middle of the room, as if drawing an invisible line, "Your stuff and you stays on your side, my stuff and me stays on my side. We never bother each other, never say a word and pretend as if we just got stuck with a really shitty half-room. Got it?"

Wally wasn't like this situation already, but still he nodded his head.

"Good." Now Max just sat back and looked at Wally.

The two sat there for a while in silence. Max glared at him the entire time.

"Ok, this has got to stop. What are you doing?" Wally asked.

"Waiting for you," Max replied, shifting position in his chair.

"Waiting on me…oh…" Wally finally realized what he wanted, "My name's Wally West."

Max nodded his head, "Nice to meet you, West. Good to never know you again."

And with that, Max turned back around and got back to doing whatever he was doing on his laptop, this time with black, Skullcandy headphones on.

This was college. The girls ignored him, his roommate hated him. Next thing Wally knew, his teachers would despise him and he'd fail every class.

Well, this sucks.

Wally stood up, moved all of his stuff to 'his side' and began to unpack. As he did so, the same chest from earlier caught his eye. Wally tried to ignore it. He knew why it was there. He hadn't brought it but he knew who did.

Wally stood there for a while, unpacking his clothes and organizing his textbooks. Until something really caught his eye, until his day got so much worse.

"What is that?" Wally asked Max, pointing to his computer screen. Max didn't reply.

"What is that?" Wally spoke louder this time, slowly approaching the computer.

Wally put a hand on Max's shoulder. The young man jerked around and pulled off his headphones, "What the hell is it?"

"What. Is. That?" Wally pointed to the screen.

Max glanced at the screen and then back at Wally, "That is News."

"What the hell is going on?" Wally asked; fear, anger, dozens of emotions overtaking his body.

Max sighed, "Just some stupid bank robbery. Apparently Captain Cold—you know Captain Cold, right?—is back. He's attacked Keystone Bank, demanding Flash come and stop him. Everyone knows Flash is dead though, right? I mean, I guess everyone thought he was dead too, so what do we know?"

"Oh my God…" Wally fell back on to his bed. He looked down at the chest laying in between his feet. He…he was back. Cold was back. But he had to be dead. He had to.

"…West?"

Cold couldn't be alive. The bomb was strapped to his chest. But, nobody ever found anything, any remains. Did that mean Barry was alive? No, he couldn't be. Then why was Cold asking for Flash? What was going on?

"West?"

Wally couldn't go out, could he? No, it would be disrespectful to his uncle. But the chest…Iris had brought it, Wally was sure. She'd brought it for something like this. But he couldn't go! Cold was back…no, no. Superman would come and stop him, right? Or some other superhero! There were, like, a dozen others. He didn't have to go he didn't have to go he didn't have to go Cold was back he didn't have to go Cold was back he didn't have to go he didn't have to be Flash.

"WEST?!"

Wally was shaken out of his dream-state by Max's voice.

"Wh-what?" Wally mumbled.

"You…you're, like, vibrating…" Max stated, his jaw dropped.

"I'm vibrating…" Wally looked down at himself and…he was shaking uncontrollably. His powers were going haywire! Wally took deep breaths, stopping himself, steadying himself. Thank God, if Wally had gone on any longer, he might have fallen straight through his bed and the floor below.

Wally looked up at Max, who was still clearly shocked, "I'm fine. Just, uh, a little sick. Got a cold."

"You sure you weren't having a seizure, 'cause if you were, we need to get you to the hospital. I can't have you dying on me or anything 'cause that would so totally look bad on a job application," Max muttered.

"I'm fine, seriously," Wally sat up straight, attempting to look confident and well, "What's going on at the bank?"

It took Max a few seconds to take himself away from what just happened. When he did, he replied, "Um…nothing much. Just what I told you. I mean, there is more. Cold's killed five people: four men, one woman."

"What?" Wally exclaimed, shooting straight up.

"Yeah, he just, like, froze their heads off or something," Max said.

"But, Cold doesn't kill usually, unless he really, really has to. And then he only kills men. Never women. Never children," Wally stated breathlessly.

Max shook his head, "Apparently not anymore."

Wally stood in silence for a few seconds. Then, without a word, he knelt down to the chest and quickly entered the five-digit code on the lock. With a click the chest unlocked and the top swung open. Wally looked inside. It was there. With a swift swipe It was gone. Wally closed the chest and relocked it.

"What're you doing? Why'd you get that ring out?" Max wondered, swiveling around in his chair.

"I…I have to go somewhere. I feel like I'm gonna puke," Wally hurried out of the room, all the while slipping the golden ring onto his hand, a etched lightning bolt glistening in the light.

Max stared back out the doorway.

"…weird kid."

Wally ran downstairs, human speed, and out of the dorm. He hurried away until he found an alley in between two lab buildings. No one was in sight.

"Alright, Wally, all you have to do is…" Wally began to spin around, faster and faster, till he was just a red tornado exploding inside the alley.

"…spin!" Wally stopped, striking a pose while doing so. However, he was no longer dressed in a simply sweatshirt and shorts. No, now he wore shining red armor and a mask that transformed him from ordinary Wally West into…

The extraordinary Flash!

And without a thought, Wally was off, speeding faster than the eye could see past all the citizens and students of Keystone City.

I forgot how great this feels being in the costume. I forgot how great it feels running, full-speed, to where nobody, nothing can stop you…

"OOMPH!"

Wally's chest erupted in pain as he fell to the ground. He'd been attacked by a dastardly…

Pole?

"Oh my God…I just…" Wally stood up. People all around were chuckling, giggling just like the girl from earlier. Some teenage boy was videotaping him on his phone.

"I…I…" Wally ran off without another word. He needed to stop daydreaming and pay attention to where he was running. He could really hurt himself doing things like that. He could hurt someone else. Worst of all, he could embarrass himself even worse than that! What if his mask had broken? What if he gave away his I.D.

"Way to go, 'Flash!'"

Meanwhile…

"WHERE IS THE FLASH?" Captain Cold screamed.

"CAPTAIN COLD!" The police captain, Fred Chyre's, voice rang through a speaker, "ALLOW THE HOSTAGES TO GO OR MY MEN ARE GOING TO GO IN THERE AND TAKE YOU OUT! ALLOW THE HOSTAGES TO GO AND YOU WILL ONLY BE TRIALED FOR ATTEMPTED ROBBERY!"

"You really gonna do that, Cap?" Officer Jared Morillo asked.

"If we have to. We can't risk him killing anymore people and if we go in there, he surely will," Chyre replied, "I just wish I knew what the hell was going on. This can't be the real Captain Cold; he's dead. But it's a damn good impersonator. The guy's even got frickin' ice powers!"

"I know, Cap," Morillo said, "Whoever this crazy is…he's dangerous!"

Inside Cold was cursing, "Damnit! I told them my name is Cold, not 'Captain' Cold! Captain Cold was my father!"

Cold took out his anger on one of his hostages, proving his name as he mercilessly killed the poor man. The other civilians cowered on the ground, afraid they were next.

Indeed, this was not Captain Cold. He didn't play by the same rules. He didn't even where the same clothes! Although their costumes were similar, Cold wore different clothing. A white hooded sleeveless jacket with blue designs and a shirt of similar colors covered his chest. He wore navy blue pants and snow white boots. The final addition to his costume was the same style mask his father wore: icicle blue goggles.

"Where is the Flash…?" Cold wondered yet again.

Outside, his question was answered. Wally sped to a stop by the good captain and his fellow police officer.

"Heyo!" Wally greeted, a surprisingly light expression on his face.

"Oh! Flash!" Captain Chyre practically jumped out of his jacket, "You…you're dead!"

"Captain…that ain't the Flash. Look at the costume. That's Kid Flash," Officer Montillo pointed out.

"That…that's right," Wally admitted, "But I am the Flash now…I think."

Captain Chyre nodded his head, "Well, whoever you are, I'm glad you're here. We need your help."

"That's why I'm here!" Wally cheerfully interjected, "So, what's going on?"

"Captain Cold's got hostages in there. As far as we know, he's killed five of 'em. He's been demanding to see you. I reckon he wants to talk about…y'know…" Chyre said.

"Yeah," Wally nodded his head, "I got this. You guys relax, drink coffee, and eat donuts. I'll be back…"

"…In a flash!"

Wally sped inside and was appalled at what he found. Six bodies lay on the ground in front of Cold, their heads frozen completely, shocked, fearful expression painted on their face. Just like…

"Flash!" Cold triumphantly cried, holding out his arms as if in celebration, "You've finally come!"

Wally shook himself out of the shock and looked up at Cold, "Alright, who are you? And if you're really Captain Cold, how are you alive?"

Cold stood silent for a second, before bursting out laughing, "HAHAHA! You…you really think I'm Captain Cold! You're that stupid? I mean, I don't even have the gun, or the wrinkles! Hahaha!"

"Well then, who are you really?"

Cold suddenly stopped laughing, his demeanor now serious, "Me…? I'm a son looking for revenge. I'm Cold."

Wally couldn't help but grin at that, "Cold? Where'd you get that name from, I wonder?"

"Shut up," Cold growled. Ice began to slowly flow up his forearms.

Wally still kept the smile, but continued on, "So, you're what, the Captain's son? Looking for revenge? You know he killed the Flash…the original Flash."

Cold shook his head, "He didn't kill the Flash; he killed a man. The Flash is more than just one man; you are proof of that. I am going to kill the Flash by killing you. I am going to end his legacy."

"'End his legacy…'" Wally began, "You're crazy, you know that?"

Wally sped up to Cold and aimed a punch right at his right cheek.

But his hand was intercepted! Cold firmly held his fist in his grasp, as ice slowly traced up Wally's hand.

"And why is that?" Cold grinned maliciously. He slugged Wally in the stomach and kicked him to the ground. As Wally fell, Cold put his foot over the hero's throat.

Wally looked defiantly up at Cold, "Because Flash…Flash is more than just me or the previous. He's a symbol. A symbol that you…that you can't…you shouldn't run from your fears forever. And that when you stop, when they catch you, you just have to look them in the eyes and…"

Wally grabbed Cold's leg and flipped him over. Wally rolled on top of him and landed a punch on his right cheek.

"…And slug your fears right on the cheek. You tell them your done running, because you don't have to. You don't have to run away. You can stand strong and overcome your fears. Flash is a symbol that you don't have to run away from the world and that you can overcome it. You can grow from your experiences, your missteps. You can come out a little stronger."

Cold grinned but Wally could see tears fall down his cheeks, "Enough with this useless shit! This is for my dad! This is for him! Flash has to die!"

Cold blasted Wally off of him with a burst of ice. Wally flipped back immediately off of the ground and confronted the villain. He now knew…understood everything. His uncle's legacy as the Flash…it wasn't a gift It wasn't an attempt to make Wally understand what happened wasn't his fault. Barry truly wanted him to be the Flash. He needed him to be the Flash. The Cities…the world needed Wally to be the Flash.

Flash let a smirk grow upon his lips, "So, Coldie, let's get at it."

Flash rushed up to the villain, and attempted to kick him. The villain blocked it and launched icicles at him. Flash dodged them matrix-style, but he felt himself slowing down. Something was wrong.

"Is it cold in here or is that just you?" Wally joked, slugging Cold.

"Aargh! You won't be able to go on forever, Flash! My metahuman powers allow me to slow down the movement of molecules, even yours!" Cold sent a blast of ice towards Flash. Flash managed to dodge it, but barely this time.

"Well, that certainly makes sense." Flash agreed, "I was worried I'd skipped my five hour energy this morning."

The Flash attempted to punch Cold, who blocked it and used Flash's momentum to flip Flash. The speedster recovered midair and kicked off Cold and back onto the ground where he tried to hit Cold again. This time he landed the punch. Cold counter attacked by hitting Flash right back, who then responded by kicking Cold in the stomach.

Neither metahuman was backing down.

"That the best you got?" Flash heaved.

"Not even close," Cold breathed in heavily.

The two ran at each other and collided. They both fell to the ground.

And still they both pushed themselves off the ground. Cold launched and ice barrage at Flash. Flash dodged most but one impaled his shoulder.

"Seriously, popsicles?" Flash huffed. Flash sped up to Cold and punched him straight in the nose. The villain stood his ground.

Both superhero and supervillain defiantly faced each other. Both were bleeding. Both were breathing heavily. Both couldn't take much more.

"Just go down," Flash said.

"You first," Cold growled.

The two moved simultaneously. Their fists both slid across each other's cheeks. Both stood still, silent, refusing to lose.

Cold fell to the ground. He was unconscious.

"I can't believe it…I actually won…" Flash grinned. The hostages cheered.

"This…this might just work out."

Flash and the ex-hostages were greeted by police officers, relatives and reporters. Flash was mobbed.

"Are you really the Flash?"

"Did you actually die?"

"What happened in there?"

"Please, please," Flash struggled to stand up, let alone quiet the reporters. Still, they grew silent.

"The Flash did die two years ago," Wally began, "He was my uncle. And with his final word, as his legacy, he left me the role of the Flash."

"I am the Flash."

Note: End of the first arc! I hoe you enjoyed it! I was really proud of this chapter! REVIEW! Seriously, it's the only thanks I get for working hours on this. Oh, also, in case I've never said this, Wally's Flash costume is based off the DCnU one. Cold's is as well.

Next: Wally goes to class, officially beginning his freshman year in college! But he's interrupted by a new dastardly villain, a young man going by the alias: Mirror Master! Who is Mirror Master and what's his ploy? And what does he want with the beautiful Linda Park?

Cover- Flash looking in the mirror. Mirror Master in the reflection sneaking behind him.

Title- Deadly Reflections

But…wait…I'm not done! No I've got more for you…a special back up!

Future

A shadowy figure ran from chasing police cycles behind him. The motorcycles were flying at high speeds, faster than any normal human being could run. This wasn't any normal human being.

The figure emerged from the shadows. He was dressed in a cream and scarlet suit, and an orange visor covered his eyes. His long, wild red hair flew back in the wind.

"Huf. Huf. Huf. Huf."

The man…or rather boy—he looked rather young—hopped a fence onto a yard. A man was currently at work gardening. His mouth dropped when the boy landed on top of his ferns.

"Oh, um, sorry, mister! Gotta run!" The boy continued to run, hopping the back fence. He must've outmaneuvered the cops. He had to've. He was just too smart for…

"WEEOOWEEOOWEEOO!" The police sirens blared. Behind him four designated Hot Pursuit Officers raced after him.

"Damn," The boy cursed, speeding away. He curved and the HP's behind him did too. He swerved and they did too. He couldn't run away from them. They were too fast.

"Psh!" The boy pushed away the thought.

"Impulse, as a member of the Central City Police Department's Hot Pursuit I demand you stop immediately and turn over the goods you stole!" One of the HP's shouted through a speaker.

"Yeah, in what time period did criminals ever do that?" Impulse laughed.

"If you do not turn yourself in we will be forced to use lethal force!"

"Only if you could catch me!"

A determined expression came over Impulse's face. The boy knew he could outrun them. He was descended from the Fastest Man Alive. He wasn't about to lose a race to some punk cops. 'Specially not to some corrupt United Planets cops.

VOOSH!

Impulse broke the sound barrier and still accelerated faster. He wasn't stopping; he wasn't slowing down. And he was easily outrunning the Hot Pursuits.

"Game over," The boy chuckled and came to a stop. In front of him stood a small army of oddly dressed and some odd-looking people.

"Impulse and the Legion of Superheroes win again!"

End