Chapter 36: Tachyon's Gambit

Chapter 36: Tachyon's Gambit

As the moon cast its dim glow over the darkened city, Myles Walley, adorned in his Tachyon jumpsuit, reclined on a plush leather chair within his dimly lit underground lair. The room hummed with the faint crackling of electricity, a testament to the speedster's connection with the cosmic forces that fueled his powers. Grinning mischievously, he reached for a vintage rotary phone resting on a nearby table, its presence a nod to the nostalgia of a bygone era.

With a flick of his wrist, Myles dialed the number he knew by heart, connecting to a familiar ally and partner in crime, Leonard Snart, also known as Captain Cold. The phone rang, each ring reverberating through the room like an echoing heartbeat.

Finally, the call was answered, and a voice, as cold as ice, filled the air. "Snart here," Leonard's deep voice grumbled with a no-nonsense tone.

Myles couldn't help but chuckle, his voice dripping with playful enthusiasm. "Hey there, Captain Cold! It's your favorite speedster calling. Got a minute?"

There was a distinct pause on the other end, a silent sigh, before Leonard responded, his annoyance evident. "What do you want, Tachyon? I hope this is important."

Grinning wider, Myles leaned back in his chair, relishing in the contrast of his lightheartedness against Leonard's serious demeanor. "Oh, it's important, alright! I'm planning a little heist, something to spice up the night. And I need your expertise, Captain. But more specifically, I need to know where I can find some reliable goons for hire. Any recommendations?"

Leonard's skepticism crept into his voice. "You're the fastest man alive, Myles. Why on Earth would you need goons when you can do it all yourself?"

Myles let out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing through the lair like a playful echo. "Ah, Leonard, my dear friend, where's the fun in doing it all alone? Sometimes, the greatest pleasure is in the performance, in orchestrating a grand spectacle that leaves everyone breathless. And besides, it's good to have some backup in case things get a little too hot to handle, don't you think?"

There was a hint of resignation in Leonard's voice as he reluctantly offered his assistance. "Fine, I suppose I know a few contacts who can provide you with the muscle you need. Meet me at the old warehouse on East Street. I'll have the information ready for you. But remember, Tachyon, this heist better be worth it."

Myles could practically hear the invisible eye roll from his partner, but he couldn't help but grin wider. "You won't be disappointed, Leonard. Get ready for a show like no other."

With that, the call ended, leaving Myles to revel in his own mischievous thoughts. The city would soon witness the orchestrated chaos he was about to unleash, and with his trusted partner begrudgingly aiding him, there was no doubt that Central City would feel the tremors of their combined villainy.

As the dimly lit lair embraced the shadows once more, Myles rose from his chair, the Tachyon symbol on his suit gleaming with anticipation. The stage was set, and the rising Crime Lord was ready to make his mark upon Central City, one step at a time.

_

With Leonard's information in hand, Myles Walley, found himself standing in the heart of Central City, surrounded by the bustling cityscape that pulsated with life. His fingers traced the list of recommendations, each name and location etched upon the paper. He had hoped for a crew that matched his preferences, individuals with a flair for mischief and a hunger for chaos. However, as he perused the list, disappointment seeped into his heart like a chilling breeze.

One by one, the names on the list failed to ignite the spark of excitement within him. They were common criminals, lacking the finesse and theatricality that Myles craved. But as he reached the final recommendation, a small glimmer of hope flickered within him. Perhaps, just perhaps, this last place would hold the key to his perfect heist crew.

Following the address provided by Leonard, Myles made his way to a dimly lit bar tucked away in the heart of an abandoned industrial district. As he pushed open the creaking door, the scent of stale beer and the distant melody of raucous laughter enveloped him.

His eyes scanned the room, seeking out potential recruits for his grand scheme. The bar patrons varied in appearance, some engrossed in their own conversations, others nursing their drinks with a weariness that spoke of a life filled with struggle.

His disappointment lingered, threatening to overshadow his determination, until his keen ears caught a distinctive voice rising above the clamor. A group of individuals, huddled together in a corner booth, engaged in animated banter, their voices thick with the struggles of their everyday lives.

Myles couldn't resist the temptation to eavesdrop, his mischievous smile widening as he overheard their conversations about poverty, healthcare, and the constant uphill battle they faced. These were individuals who had been dealt a tough hand by life, their frustrations bubbling beneath the surface like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

Slipping into the role of a casual observer, Myles leaned against the bar counter, his eyes fixed on the group. Their voices blended together, laced with slang and raw emotions, painting a vivid picture of their circumstances.

"Man, I'm tellin' ya, this healthcare system is a joke," one of them exclaimed, a sense of frustration dripping from every word.

"Tell me about it! Can barely make ends meet with this minimum wage nonsense," another chimed in, their tone filled with resignation.

Myles listened intently, his excitement building with every passing word. These were the voices he had been searching for—individuals yearning for change, hungry for an opportunity to rise above their struggles. They possessed a raw authenticity, a fire within that resonated with his own desires.

The speedster's heart raced with anticipation as he made up his mind. This group, with their shared frustrations and dreams, would become the canvas on which he would paint his heist masterpiece. They would be the instrument through which he would bring chaos and reformation to the city.

With a glint of mischief in his eyes, Myles approached the group, blending seamlessly into their midst. The stage was set, the players chosen, and the rising Crime Lord could hardly contain his excitement. The city would soon witness the birth of a new era, and he would be the conductor of its symphony.

As the bar reverberated with laughter and the clinking of glasses, Myles basked in the thrill of his impending triumph, relishing in the knowledge that destiny had brought them together, binding their fates to the grand heist that awaited.

_

As Myles, adorned in his Tachyon jumpsuit, approached the group, their conversations tapered off, replaced by wary glances and hushed whispers. Recognition flickered across their faces, mingled with a healthy dose of fear. They had heard the tales, the rumors that swirled through Central City about this enigmatic speedster who had once nearly brought the city to its knees in a battle against the Flash.

Myles, ever the charismatic manipulator, flashed them a disarming smile, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Evening, folks. Mind if I join in on the conversation?"

The group tensed, their skepticism palpable. One of them, a young woman with eyes that betrayed both fear and curiosity, spoke up. "You're Tachyon, right? The guy who almost destroyed the city? What do you want with us?"

Myles chuckled, his voice laced with charm and persuasive allure. "Ah, the legends do precede me, don't they? But fear not, my friends, for I've come seeking individuals like yourselves, those who have tasted the bitterness of life's struggles and yearn for something more."

Their wariness lingered, their eyes darting between each other, but a hint of curiosity began to spark within them. One man spoke up, his voice edged with caution. "What's in it for us? What's your game, Tachyon?"

Myles leaned in closer, his voice a low, conspiratorial whisper. "My dear friends, picture this. The audacity of robbing the IRS itself, striking a blow against the very system that perpetuates the cycle of poverty and inequality. This heist will be a statement, a chance for you to make a real difference, not just for yourselves, but for the countless others who suffer under the weight of a broken society."

The group exchanged glances, their initial skepticism slowly melting away as Myles continued to weave his persuasive web. He spoke with such conviction, his words resonating with their own frustrations and desires for change.

Another member of the group, a man whose tired eyes betrayed a fire that had long flickered within, spoke up. "Why should we trust you? It's because of you why we're like this in the first place!"

Myles grinned, a flicker of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Ah, my friend, it's true, I have been responsible for your misfortunes. But that's precisely why I'm reaching out to you. Together, we can redefine your miserable lives, reshaping the narrative of this city's. I offer you a chance to rise above the confines of society's labels and make a real impact. I need your unique skills, your passion for change. And in return, I promise to be your ally, to fight alongside you until the very end."

As Tachyon's words lingered in the air, the group exchanged glances once more, their determination growing stronger with each passing second. A shared sense of purpose welled up within them, uniting them in a cause that transcended their individual struggles.

With a collective nod, the group made their decision. They would join forces with Tachyon, embracing the audaciousness of his plan, and venturing into the heart of Central City's criminal underworld.

The city itself held its breath, unaware of the brewing storm that would soon descend upon its streets. Myles, the puppet master, reveled in the anticipation, knowing that with this newfound alliance, he had set in motion a chain of events that would forever alter the course of their lives and the fate of Central City itself.

_

Inside a hidden warehouse on the outskirts of Central City, a veil of secrecy cloaked the air, as Myles Walley, Tachyon himself, stood amidst his newly recruited crew. The warehouse, bathed in dim lighting, hummed with an energy of anticipation. High-tech gadgets adorned the shelves, blueprints sprawled across tables, and a holographic projection flickered to life, displaying their target—the pinnacle of their audacious heist.

Myles, exuding a natural aura of leadership, gathered his crew around him, their diverse personalities and skills representing a tapestry of possibilities. They stood united, their eyes fixed on their charismatic leader, as he began to paint a vivid picture of the intricate details that would shape their heist.

"Now, listen up, everyone," Myles began, his voice carrying a blend of confidence and excitement. "We've got a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity here, a chance to strike at the heart of corruption, the IRS itself. But to succeed, we need to be precise, calculated, and work together as a well-oiled machine."

The crew members leaned in, their individual expertise and perspectives shining through as they listened intently. A tech-savvy member, known for their prowess with gadgets, raised a question. "What about the security systems? Any idea how we're going to bypass them?"

Myles flashed a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with intelligence. "Ah, my friend, we have our ways. With the gadgets at our disposal, we'll exploit every vulnerability, turning their security measures against them. Trust me, we'll be ghosts in their system."

Myles eyes shifting to the next member of the crew. "Leonard, you and your expertise in engineering will be vital in disarming any potential traps. What do you need from us?"

Leonard Snart, his icy blue eyes focused and alert, spoke in his signature calm and collected manner. "Just give me the schematics, and I'll make sure nothing stands in our way. But let's not forget about the backup plan if things go south."

Myles flashed a grin, appreciating Leonard's pragmatic approach. "Absolutely, Leonard. We always have a contingency plan. Your experience with improvisation will come in handy.Just like you always said, 'Make the plane, Execute the plan, expect the plan to go to shit' or something like that."

Another crew member, a master of disguise and deception, chimed in. "But what about the personnel? Won't they recognize us?"

Myles nodded, acknowledging the concern. "Indeed, that's a valid point. That's where our dear Grodd mind control come into play. We'll be shadows in the night, slipping through their ranks undetected. Each of you will have a role to play, a disguise to adopt that will keep them guessing. "

Myles began, his gaze sweeping across the group, taking in their diverse skills and backgrounds. Hartley, will be responsible for bypassing the security systems. Hartley, any questions or concerns?"

Hartley Rathaway, his fingers tapping eagerly against his tablet, glanced up, a smirk playing on his lips. "None at all, boss. I've hacked into more secure systems than this in my sleep. Consider it done."

The crew members exchanged glances, their excitement mixing with a hint of apprehension. This was no ordinary heist—they were venturing into the lion's den, with the potential consequences weighing heavily upon them. But as Myles continued to address their concerns, his leadership skills shining through, a sense of unity and purpose began to permeate the room.

"We will face challenges, my friends," Myles declared, his voice filled with unwavering determination. "But remember why we're doing this. We're not just stealing for personal gain. We're stealing to expose them, and take this city right under their noses."

His words echoed in the air, igniting a fire within each member of the crew. Excitement mingled with determination, as they realized the magnitude of the task before them. They were no longer just a group of individuals with their own struggles and aspirations—they were a team, united under Tachyon's leadership.

As the crew dispersed to their assigned tasks, a newfound sense of purpose filled the warehouse. Each member carried the weight of their responsibilities with a mixture of nerves and determination. They knew the risks, but they also understood the potential rewards—the chance to make a real difference in Central City.

Myles, ever the charismatic leader, moved among them, offering words of encouragement, inspiring confidence, and fostering a spirit of unity. His belief in their abilities was contagious, spreading like wildfire through their ranks.

In that hidden warehouse, a band of unlikely heroes prepared for the heist of a lifetime. They were driven by a shared purpose, a collective desire to challenge the status quo, and the audacity to believe that they could reshape the very foundations of their city.

Snart and Grodd remained glaring at Myles, Snart knows damn well Myles had something else in mind. And Grodd while he can't read Myles' head completely, can sense his intentions. However neither of them spoke out as one whatever Myles was planning behind this heist won't affect them much and Myles has hardly ever does anything that involves double crossing his allies.

_

The echoes of victory still resonated within the hearts of Myles Walley and his crew as they stood before the open vault, their prize secure in their hands. However, their triumph was short-lived, for as the shadows danced around them, a formidable enemy force emerged from the darkness.

It was a rival criminal syndicate, drawn to the audacious heist like vultures to fresh carrion. They had caught wind of Myles' ambitions, and now, they sought to claim what he had taken for themselves. A tense silence fell over the room as the two groups faced off, each poised for a clash of titans.

The leader of the rival syndicate, a cunning and ruthless figure, stepped forward. A glint of amusement danced in his eyes as he sized up Myles and his crew. "Well, well, if it isn't Tachyon," he sneered, his voice dripping with both disdain and anticipation. "You've made quite a name for yourself, haven't you?"

Myles' lips curled into a confident smile, his eyes burning with an intensity that matched his rival's. "And who might you be?" he retorted, his voice laced with a mixture of defiance and amusement.

"Call me Blade," the rival leader replied, his tone oozing with arrogance. "You see, Tachyon, we don't like how your running things, so I thought why not do us favor and take you out of the picture." Blade then reveals his meta-human ability which was ironically creating and turning anything into blades.

How original... Myles thought before he chuckled, a devilish gleam in his eyes. "Blade, Blade, you're wound up tighter than a spring," he taunted, his voice dripping with amusement. "I'm just here to have a little fun. But if you insist on playing the tough guy, I won't deny you the pleasure.

The tension in the air crackled, anticipation hanging thickly between the two forces. Myles glanced at his crew, a silent understanding passing between them. They knew the odds were stacked against them, but they also knew the strength that lay within their collective unity.

Leonard Snart stepped forward, his eyes locked on Blade. "We've come too far to back down now," he declared, his voice steady and resolute. "If you think you can stand in our way, you're in for a rude awakening. Grodd, keep 'em off balance! Golden Glider, Heatwave, give 'em hell!" His crew sprang into action, their weapons blazing, while Hartley Rathaway's sonic vibrations disoriented the attackers.

The room erupted into chaos as the rival syndicate launched their assault. Bullets whizzed through the air, the sound of cracking bones and crashing objects filling the space. Myles' crew moved with practiced precision, relying on their unique abilities and unwavering trust in one another.

Hartley Rathaway unleashed a symphony of disarray, using his sound manipulation to disorient the enemy. Gorilla Grodd, his primal strength unmatched, sent adversaries flying with each powerful strike. Combined with his telepathy he was unmatched. Golden Glider and Heatwave orchestrated a fiery dance, their weapons blazing, driving the rival syndicate back.

Myles himself weaved through the chaos, his speed and agility unmatched. He struck with precision and finesse, each blow calculated to kill, his sadistic nature, reveled in the chaos. With a wicked grin, he darted through the mayhem, his speed unmatched. Each blow he landed was laced with a touch of cruelty, a twisted satisfaction in the pain he inflicted. Blade himself became the target of Myles' sadistic fury. Those part of his group who couldn't fight back were protected by his gravity bubble.

The room became a whirlwind of motion and conflict, the clash of superhuman abilities and ruthless determination.

Their clash reached its climax as Myles closed in on Blade, his eyes gleaming with a darkness that belied his carefree demeanor. With a swift motion, he delivered a fatal blow, ending Blade's life with a cold indifference. Blade's entire body imploded and Myles savored the man's expression of agony. There was no remorse in Myles' eyes, only a twisted satisfaction at his victory.

As the room fell silent, Myles' crew turned their gaze upon him, their reactions varied and different. Some showed shock, their faces contorted with disbelief. Others, more accustomed to Myles' darker side, wore expressions of acceptance, knowing that the path they had chosen was not for the faint of heart.

Myles surveyed his crew, his eyes lingering on their varied reactions. "This is who we are," he declared, his voice tinged with a chilling edge. "We're the predators in this city, the ones who play by our own rules. If you can't handle it, now's the time to walk away."

Some hesitated, their wavering resolve evident in their eyes. But, in the end, they all stood tall, united by the bond they had forged. They had seen the darkness within Myles, and yet, they chose to follow him, knowing that together they were a force to be reckoned with.

AN: I accidentally skipped a chapter and published the wrong one. Sorry guys. Also does anyone know how I can cheer up Jake, (he's the original author of this story). I just picked him up from the police station and dropped him to his brother's home since I have a bad feeling. He got a really shitty day, his girlfriend just cheated on him, he lost his job and he got mugged. Don't worry he's fine but I can't say the same for the mugger (Pen was still lodged in the mugger's eye after I asked the officer) Jake's been pretty quiet during the trip and the last thing he said to me was giving his password to his account where he keeps all of his fanfic.