This story ties in tightly to the Heroclix Role-Playing Strategy Campaign (RPSC) and is intended for the players of that game. It’s not the regular DC Universe, but one molded and shaped by events in that RPG, and features characters and situations that may feel different than you expect. If the story piques your interest, you can take a look at the games in the PbP forum or the main RPSC 4.5 page in the Play-by-Post forum for more.


Tales of the Green Lantern Corps #2
“Ganthet's Tale”

By Lightshear


You know me. You will likely already have an opinion about me, good or bad. It is one I have no doubt earned, and I accept that. When a being has lived for as long as I have… Mistakes were made. I own them and admit them, which already sets me apart from most of my brethren. And that is why we are here - my brothers' and sisters' blindness is leading us down a path that will spell the doom of us all, and I can no longer remain idle on the sidelines of an argument that has lasted since a time when many of your galaxies were still new. Simply taking a stand is no longer enough; the time has come to take action.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

My name is Ganthet. Ah, it feels good to say that aloud. I took my name back over a year ago, but I am still adjusting to being an individual again. I had lived without a name or identity for eons. There was a time when I thought that was the only way to preserve order and deliver justice with clarity. But I have changed, and I can no longer deny the depth of that change. The blackest night is coming. You must be armed, you must be ready, but in order for that to happen you have to know our history; the history of the Corps, the history of the Guardians, and all of the secrets you were never meant to find.

This is the story of how we came to be where we are, how we've come to stand on the brink of the greatest cataclysm in the history of the universe, and how we might yet survive. This is my tale, and it begins several hundred million years ago on a planet long since forgotten. Its name was Maltus, and in that time we Guardians were simply Maltusians.

It was the height of our culture. Our science was expanding our minds at an exponential rate. We had cured disease, ended want and suffering, and attained true immortality. There hadn't been a war in thousands of years, and in the long peace we had grown rich both spiritually and materially.

Into this time came a scientist, an artist, and an inventor more brilliant than any of us. He had been responsible for much of our cultural development of that age, and he was… a dear friend. A very dear friend. His name was Krona.

He was a great man. As with so many great men, though, the consequence of his genius was hubris. He refused to accept limitations on his research; he said that the advancement of our people was paramount, and that advancement required the willingness to ask the hardest questions and seek the deepest understanding of all things. Now, Krona was at the bleeding edge of the study of quantum theory. He had come to believe time was fluid and observable, and had built mechanisms capable of locking onto temporal phenomena and using these events to observe pieces of the past. The time came when he began preparing to use the machine he had built to actually watch the universe come into being and see the origin of all existence.

This was a defiance of our oldest and most venerated laws and strictures. It could not be allowed. Because he was my friend, I wanted to be the one to speak reason to his madness. He had to be stopped, and I insisted that I be the one to do it…
_______________________________________

Krona didn't look up from his calibrations as the doors to the project launch-room slid open. He had expected the arrival; his only surprise being that his mental calculations had been off by 3 minutes. This project was eating up too much of his mental power - he just couldn't focus on more than three things at a time anymore.

"What are you doing, Krona?" Ganthet asked, and Krona suddenly stopped what he was doing and stood upright, slowly turning around to look at him with surprise.

"Ganthet? They sent you for this? How could I not have anticipated…"

"I asked to be the one," he interrupted, raising a hand. "What are you doing, friend? All the ways you could be applying your genius, and you choose this?"

"I chose to ask the biggest question nobody was asking - how did we get here?"

"We know all about the origins of life in the galaxy. We've had empirical evidence of the origins of our own species' evolution for a thousand years!"

"You know I'm not talking about that. I'm on the edge of discovering the origin of the entire universe! All life and matter and, and substance in the breadth of time and space and how it came to be - how can we have learned so much, understood so much, and still have yet to grasp the most fundamental question of existence?"

"There are reasons, Krona. There are things we just weren't meant to know. It isn't worth the risk!"

"It is worth any risk!" Krona spat. "Really, Ganthet - I can't believe you would argue with me on this. You've said the exact same things I have so many times in the past. Droch, it was you who started me thinking these things in the first place!"

"I was… wrong. The ancient texts--"

"Oh, don't you dare! The ancient texts? Those pathetic documents written thousands of years before-- before singularity drives? Before phase travel? Before the droching veil-net? Half of what's in them has been proven flat-out wrong, and the other half has become so outdated by modern science as to be laughably obtuse. There is not a single scrap in the ancient texts that I'd use to wipe my arse with - why would anyone ever allow them to limit the scope of our research?"

"Because they've been proven right, too! Yes, much of their assumptions are false and many of the theorems have been redrafted and perfected over time, but core philosophies have held true. And the warnings of tidal shifts that predated the floods of the 37th century? The observation of spatial drifting that allowed us to prepare for the climate change in the last three thousand years?"

"Observing and predicting the movement of astral bodies is simple mathematics," he dismissed Ganthet with a wave of his hand. "It's no reason to treat those old papers like prophecy."

"They specifically say that we cannot observe the creation of the universe! That doing so will mark the end of Maltus and the death of our species!"

"You're talking about two passages dispersed within four dozen documents. It's maybe three or four sentences total in all those pages, and those pathetic people out there have practically built a religion out of it! I just can't believe you'd become one of them, Ganthet. I thought we-- I thought I knew you better than that."

"I thought I knew you better, too," Ganthet sighed. "In all our time together… then again, I suppose I knew you better than I thought, in the end. You won't stop this project?"

"If this experiment is successful, I will have single-handedly put to rest questions that have plagued us since the beginning of our time. All the contradictory theories of the origin of the universe - we'll finally know the truth. We'll know where we came from; where it all came from. It's worth any price, Ganthet. I won't stop."

His friend shook his head in sadness and slowly nodded. "Then I will have to stop you."

"You can't," Krona said, stepping away from his machinery. "While we were talking, I activated the startup sequence. In a few seconds, the experiment will begin whether you like it or not. It can't be stopped now."

"It can and it will," Ganthet said, pushing a button within his earlobe. "Strike now, protocol kappa."

Krona started to speak, but was interrupted by explosions as armed officers burst into the bunker. They rappelled from the ceiling, they blasted through doors, and they surrounded the machine and Krona while Ganthet watched.

"It's over, Krona."

"Nothing is over! Bring two dozen men, bring two thousand-- you'll all be here to watch and see the truth with me. This only makes the discovery sweeter, Ganthet. We'll all see it together."

"Nobody watches anything," Ganthet said to the officers, waving his hand. "Shut it down. Shut it down forever."

"No!" Krona said, on the verge of hysterics. "Ganthet, you can't do this! The machine is locked onto an entropic wave, do you understand? I was using it as a conduit to catch the temporal feedwave, but-- if there's a power surge in the experiment, if the machine suddenly cuts out, the repercussions could be--"

"I'm not listening, Krona. Honestly, entropic waves? Can you hear yourself? You're sounding crazy."

"We're having trouble with the power-down sequence, Ganthet," one of the officers said.

"He probably has failsafes built in. Firewalls, redirection protocols… the thing's just an exceedingly complex viewscope, there shouldn't be any problem with just shutting it all off. If anything prevents you, shut that down too."

"Please, Ganthet-- listen to me," Krona said, coming to his side. He looked into his friend's eyes with a pleading expression. "If we ever-- if I meant anything to you. Our friendship, our-- if any of it meant a thing, please listen to me now. You can not do this! You'll put us all in danger."

"I know how much this means to you, Krona," Ganthet said, holding Krona's shoulder and nodding. They shared a look, both repressing a great deal of emotion. That one gentle squeeze of his shoulder spoke the volumes of Ganthet's heart. "And I know that you would do anything - say anything - to save your experiment. I can't let it happen. I'm sorry."

"No…"

"Just cut the power," Ganthet waved, walking toward the officers. They nodded and used blast-cutters to saw through each of the bundles of cables that provided power to the machine. Almost immediately, the screen that dominated the front of the machine began glowing even brighter. The officers attempted to work faster, and Krona ran to the controls.

"No, no, no…" he muttered to himself, madly rushing through inputs at the control screen. The viewer began to crystallize an image even as the machine itself began to leak energy.

"What's happening?" an officer asked as the bunker filled with light and heat. It wasn't lethal, but it was painful and it was getting worse.

"We need to vent the power," Ganthet said, going to where Krona was working madly. "Step aside, we need to--"

"It won't work! It's too late! You've damned us all, Ganthet! Do you understand me? Can you see what you've done?"

"Out of my way!" Ganthet shouted, shoving him aside and struggling with the machine's controls while the device itself was going critical. Krona rolled to his back and struggled to his elbows, looking up and seeing the image on the viewscreen.

"Oh… my…"

The screen itself had melted away. In the surge of power, the machine was splitting open as if a star was being born inside of it; like a collapsing black hole in reverse. And where the machine was tearing itself open, Krona could see the swirling light and blackness of time. And… something else. Something that looked almost… like…

"What is happening?" Ganthet gasped, stepping back. But he was too close and the decomposing machine could no longer contain the energy within; the energy of time and space and pure entropy. He began to be pulled forward into the abyss.

"Ganthet, no!" Krona shouted. He could barely hear himself over the roaring of the machine in meltdown, the explosions of the novas bursting inside its failing shell.

He scrambled to his feet and rushed forward. With desperation, he grabbed Ganthet by the back of his shirt and hurled him backward and away. Ganthet clattered to the floor, but the motion of the throw spun Krona into the heart of the abyss within his own experiment.

"Krona!"

"Come on, Ganthet," an officer shouted over the roaring noise. "We have to get out of here!"

"No! No!"

It was too late. The machine had passed the point of no return, and the officers dragged Ganthet away as they began to run down the halls. He did his best to force his legs to work, already wondering about the shelter Krona would have had to have built himself for emergencies. Even as they found the door and slid down the ladder into safety, he could only ask himself over and over-- what have I done?
_______________________________________

When Krona's machine exploded, a shockwave swept Maltus. It was a pangaean world, dominated by a single massive continent. It made it easy for the wave of entropy to do its work, I suppose. It was the end of our world. I huddled in an emergency bunker Krona had built several miles underground while my planet died. The Maltusians… we had thought ourselves immortal. But we could still be killed. Oh, yes. And we died by the hundreds of millions.

But many survived that initial blast. Of course, survival was even worse than instant death - most of them lived the rest of their short lives in agony, dying slowly from a wasting disease. Nobody touched by pure entropy can live. In the end, less than one percent of our population survived and Maltus itself was rendered unlivable.

We survivors subsisted on space stations orbiting our home. Every time we looked out the window we had to stare at the broken shell that had been our… everything. Krona had succeeded in witnessing the creation of the universe, and as foretold it had ended in the death of Maltus and the ruin of our people. He had died in the effort, and whatever he might have learned we had no idea. All we could do was try to pick up the pieces.

But how to proceed? We had to have a world on which to live, but most planets capable of sustaining life had begun to sprout intelligent life of their own. Coexistence on their worlds would surely shape their evolutionary development, possibly stunting it inadvertently as we became the dominant species of their planets. We could also be the spark that elevated those lifeforms to greater heights than they would achieve in millions of years without us.

Was it our right to interfere? Could we cohabitate with these creatures if our presence affected the shape of their existence? The argument began with the simple question of our own survival, but as the months became years the shape of it began to change. We began to see ourselves as the shepherds of all life. We had inadvertently unleashed entropy in the universe, was it not our responsibility to make up for this? Some of us took it farther - since we were the most advanced beings in the known universe, it was in fact our responsibility in principle to be the protectors of the lesser creatures, ensuring they would be able to reach their evolutionary potential.

There grew bitter divisions between us as we argued whether we owed the universe our protection, and how best to handle that responsibility. We became split into three factions, and it seemed that we would never reach accord. Instead, after years of indecision and argument, we simply decided to split up and seek our own ways in the universe. It was the hardest… it was the hardest decision we ever made as a people. Had we Guardians not chosen to eliminate our emotions in pursuit of perfect wisdom, I am sure that the guilt and pain of that loss would have followed me my entire life. As it is, I am only just rediscovering my emotions, and so-- in a way, I think I'm experiencing that pain now as if it were new all over again.
_______________________________________

"I still can't believe you would go," A'ga Po said as she ran her fingers along the podium that had been his seat at the great council. "We've argued, no doubt. And we've not seen eye to eye in some time, but still… I can't believe you would choose this."

"There's no other choice to make," Ganthet sighed as he finished collecting his things. He was still recovering from the council session and the final vote on the final initiative they would ever discuss as one people. "We've been gridlocked for years, and in that time… What have we achieved? What good have we done? We've only wasted time and a great deal of breath on nothing at all. At least this way we'll be able to do something out there, wherever we wind up."

"No, I understand that a change is needed," she nodded, leaning back to half-sit on the desk beside his podium as he thumbed through his papers a last time before sealing his case. "And maybe-- maybe all of us going our separate ways is the only answer. I don't know. But that isn't what I'm having a hard time with, and I think you know that."

Ganthet didn't look at her, he just sighed and closed his eyes, then solemnly sealed the locks on his case. "It's the only way, A'ga."

"It's the end for you. The end of everything you were or ever could have been. It doesn't even make sense, rationally-- eliminating your emotions? Deadening your ability to feel and becoming creatures of pure logic and intellect… it's actually a very emotional, illogical response to our situation."

"You think we're all juveniles, falling to the ground and flailing our arms at an unfair world? This isn't an emotional outburst, it's been carefully decided among us. It's the only way to ensure that we're guided by what's right and just and not blinded by our feelings. The Guardians believe--"

"Oh, I know what you believe, Ganthet. You believe that what happened with Krona was your fault, and this is your way of punishing yourself."

"No!" he snapped at her. "What happened-- if he hadn't been… If we hadn't been what we…"

He sat heavily in his chair, resting his face in his hand. She wanted to reach out to him, but couldn't bring herself to close the gap between them.

"I should have seen it coming," he said. "But he was my friend, so I didn't want to believe it. And then I didn't want him to go to prison. And in the end, I thought I could talk sense into his fool brain, and I was wrong about everything. Our friendship clouded my conscience. And his emotional need to know everything? That was just as damning. And his pride, and his arrogance, and his droching need to be the savior of our people…"

"To think," she laughed bitterly. "That anyone in that time could have thought we needed a savior. We had no idea what real loss was; what real suffering meant."

"Now we do. And I mean to see that justice is the dominant force in the universe, not suffering. But real justice has to be clear-headed."

"Yes, but not emotionless. Without empathy, without love, justice is just as cruel as what you intend to stand against."

"That just isn't true," he shook his head. "Emotion only confuses things. It makes killers and thieves seem like reasonable men; makes necessity look cruel and makes strong men weak in the face of what must be done.

"The Guardians will be the ones willing to do what must. We will be the ones able to make the difficult choices and do what necessity demands. And we will bring peace to the galaxy."

"There can be no peace without love and understanding."

"There can be no room for love or understanding in lives ruled by fear and anger. Justice is the wall against the rule of the tyrannical over the meek."

"And in so doing, you'll give up everything that makes you who you are," she said, her voice tight and he could tell that she was holding back tears. "You'll give up everything that you love. You and I… we will be over forever. But what's worse is knowing that you won't even remember what we were to each other."

"I could never forget," he said, not quite able to look at her.

"But the memories will be devoid of any emotional content. It'll be like looking at pictures in someone else's photo album - you'll know they meant something to someone, but it won't mean anything to you. I won't mean anything to you. That thought… it breaks my heart more than anything else we've been through in all our time together."

"It will still have meaning to me, A'ga," he said softly. "A being of the mind can still understand the value of love, the value of the connection we've shared. Even if I… even if…"

"Even if you can't feel it."

"Yes," he whispered.

"You've made up your mind. You and these Guardians of yours. I won't pretend I have any chance of changing it - no matter our situation together, I could never get you to budge once you had made your final decision on something. But… just for myself. Just so I can always know that I did try-- or at least said the words… Please, Ganthet, won't you remember that you love me? Can't you still change your mind and stay? All the promises we made each other, will you turn on them? Do you have to leave me?"

She held his hands in hers and they both had tears running down their faces. He would remember this as the last time he ever cried. She would remember it as the first time she really, truly cried. They both knew the answer to her questions, but it still had to be said.

"Yes," he said, so quietly it was almost imperceptible. "I have to leave. I will give up everything I love, everything I am, even my name-- all will be sacrificed so that we can do what only we can do. I just wish… is there no way you would come with me? Be my partner in this as you have been in all things for so long?"

"What difference would it make?" she asked, meeting his eyes and running a finger along his chin. "Without love, what life is there? What hope is there? We would be two shells that pretended to live, dispensing our idea of justice from on high. We would be like the gods in the ancient myths; flawed, distant, out of touch, and cruel."

"Justice is never cruel, A'ga," he said, surprised at how hard it was to speak right now.

"Yes it is, Ganthet. If it has no heart, then it absolutely is."
_______________________________________

We never saw each other again. A'ga Po and the Zamarons went their own way, another sect we called the Controllers went another, and we Guardians came to the center of the universe to perform the rite that would purge our minds of emotion. We gave up our names, our titles, and our individual selves to become one will.

We spent thousands of years in contemplation. We had a purpose, but how to pursue it? We needed to arm ourselves with knowledge. We changed a great deal over that time, pushing ourselves into a sort of forced evolution wherein we shifted all of our bodies' energy into the development and enhancement of our brains. We had to be more than just brilliant, you see; we had to be omnipotent. We had immortality and the most advanced science in the universe, and it hadn't been enough. To truly become guardians of all that was, we had to possess knowledge of all that had ever been.

During our exhaustive research and experimentation, we discovered something shocking and amazing - a kind of energy we'd never before encountered. It was incredible in strength and vast in availability. It seemed to be generated by the universe itself-- the collective power underlying the smallest particles that were the building blocks of existence.

The study of this energy became our sole focus, discovering its capabilities and limitations and theorizing possibilities for how it could be used. Our experimentation so consumed our imaginations that even the discovery of the anti-matter universe couldn't hold our attention for long. Can you imagine? We found a parallel universe as vast and rich as our own composed of anti-matter, and compared to the breakthroughs we were having with this new energy it simply didn't seem to matter. There was no life in this other universe, after all, and without life it was rather without interest at the moment. We never even bothered to cross the threshold and experience the anti-matter universe ourselves.

As ludicrous as it sounds, I think we could be forgiven. We were beginning to be able to harness and manipulate what we were quickly coming to believe was the fundamental force of all life in the universe. In spite of everything we had seen and done, this was still a far larger discovery than anything else in that age. It gave us direction and purpose when we needed it, and we focused on that to the exclusion of all else. Even to the exclusion of the effects the power was having on some of us.

In its corporeal form, the energy was green and burned like a fire. Displaying our boundless creativity, we began calling it the green flame. We were able to channel it with devices that were testing the limits of our peerless scientific advancement, but those who worked most closely with the green flame began to change. It was subtle at first, but they started believing the power could be manipulated without our machines or our focusing devices. Some even began openly manipulating it with only their minds and their will. It was shocking, I suppose; certainly more than we were able to accept at the time. Particularly when these few began having visions. The things they saw… None of the rest of us knew what to do or even what to believe…
_______________________________________

"Speak to me, brother," the being who had been known as Ganthet said as he knelt down beside another of the Guardians. The other sat at the edge of the towering building they had been using for their studies, his legs hanging off over the precipice as if he were only a few meters off the ground rather than a few kilometers.

"What would you like to hear, brother?" the other spoke. He stared off into the distant sky, a look of serene absence on his face. His voice was hollow but pure, peaceful but not entirely present.

"They say that you've begun seeing things. Like the others did, before they… well, before their end. You've been touching the flame, haven't you?"

"Yes. It was so hard to find the way, but once I did it became much easier. Like lifting an object that seems so very heavy, but once you have it up and balanced in your arms you find it isn't that difficult at all. And it's warm, Ganthet! It's warm and it soothes the soul and eases the mind and sharpens my focus to laser precision. It's beautiful, Ganthet. It's so very, very… beautiful…"

"I no longer use that name, brother. We gave them up together, remember? I held your hand at the ceremony."

"Just because you tried to throw it away doesn't mean it no longer belongs to you," the other said, looking at him for the first time. Those placid eyes seemed to bore through his own eyes first to see something beyond him; something far away. "You've forgotten who you are, Ganthet. But you'll remember before the sunset and have plenty of time to prepare for the night."

"But it's… the sun is already setting. What are you talking about? You've become confused."

"Not at all. I've had my mind opened. I am aware. I have seen the breadth of the universe. The green flame is… it isn't one fire but a part of many! What we've seen, what we've touched, it might be all that we can attune to, but it isn't all there is. The great light, the greatest light, runs through the current of the universe. Life is a prism that splits it into shards, and the green flame is only one shard of that amazing power."

"We've heard this before," he rubbed his head as the other watched the sun lowering at the horizon. "The prismatic spray effect, the one of many. It's been dismissed. We never found any--"

"We lived millennia in ignorance of the green flame, Ganthet. Is it so hard to believe that we've only seen the tip of this iceberg? That the vastness of the whole is so much greater than this piece we can currently touch?"

"Then where is it, brother? Where is this deeper, greater power you speak of? You say you've seen the-- the breadth of the universe, so what has it shown you that means anything? That you can prove?"

"You cannot prove that which the other refuses to see. And I have seen a great many things that you don't want to know. None of you. But in all this, I haven't seen the shape of the real power, the real current-- only the green and the possibility of what's to come. The green flame is the only one that's been lit, you see. The others are still dormant… but they're coming. And when they do, many will fight to control them. The Guardians will fight, too, but you won't succeed at your goal."

"Won't succeed at what goal?" he asked. He wasn't sure why, but his brother Guardian's rambling was touching off something in his own mind. Though his logic railed against it, a deeper feeling inside him recognized the ring of truth in his words - even if he'd never admit it. "Who are these enemies we'll face?"

"There are flames throughout the spectrum. Each the manifestation of the deepest and oldest emotional drives of life. The flames will be lit, and torchbearers will rise to champion them. They will clash, because the nature of one power split into many is to be in conflict with itself until it can be reunited into a whole. Your enemies… you can't see them yet. But your biggest enemy will be the same as it's always been - yourself."

"How very original," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Brother, these ravings-- why won't you submit to a cleansing? You need help. You've been exposed to physical contact with an alien force, a primal force, and it's clearly affected your mind. Let us--"

"No!" the other said, recoiling. His eyes began to glow green and energy seemed to swirl around his body, almost too faint to be seen. "I shall burn brightest, even if it means burning shortest. I'll not be lobotomized for the sake of comfortable quiet. The blackest night is coming! The flames will be lit, one by one. Fear shall overtake justice and compassion will struggle to overcome rage. You can't close them off and you can't put them out, the pages are turning themselves now.

"The final fate of all will be decided by two from seven - the ultimate two. Apathy will fight Altruism, and the winner will cover the universe in black or white. Light will shine or darkness will reign, but you Guardians will still be trying to keep your heads in the sand."

"'You Guardians?' You are one of us," he said, taking his friend's shoulder in hand. He didn't want to believe this being he'd known for so long could become so broken… he thought his friend was stronger than this. But it seemed that the whispers had been true. He just wished he hadn't had to see.

"I'm not. Not anymore. And neither will you be. The green flame is not your fate, Ganthet. You are meant for more than this. You will see it and you will regret. But you will find the answer, old friend! You will be the one who finds hope!"

He rose to his feet, his head hung low. "I already regret, dear brother. And I believe… I believe I have found the answer. Though I wish it weren't so."

As he walked back to the rooftop entrance, he nodded at the other Guardians waiting nearby. They nodded in return and moved to restrain their lost brother. He would be taken care of as all the Lost had been. And as he entered the building and let the door close behind him, he was relieved again at having given up his emotions so long ago. If he hadn't, he would never have been strong enough for what had to come next.
_______________________________________

I believed the evidence was clear - the green flame could not be directly manipulated without unhinging the mind. Those who did so, even the strongest of us, went mad and eventually died. So in my infinite mercy, I had them rounded up and… put down. I can barely stomach the words to speak them. My brother was right; I am filled to overflowing with regret. And the pain of it! Oh, the misery! How could we live with the things we've done? How, brothers, and how do you continue so blindly? Am I the only one who can see?

…But no. There are others coming down the path I've lit for them. I won't be alone for long. But I digress.

We decreed none should use the green flame without a proper focusing mechanism to avoid further tragedy. However, enough of the Lost had spoken of the same vision that we felt it wise to at least consider the possibility of there being some truth in their madness. Their words were recorded in what would someday become the Book of Oa, and we took steps to prevent any but ourselves ever finding out about this power we'd discovered.

We systematically found every point where the power could be accessed and sealed them off. We effectively cut the universe off from the power at its core, leaving only one active wellspring. By sealing all others, it had begun to overflow with incredible amounts of raw power. It was too much to contain by traditional means, so we had to find a new way. The result was the creation of the planet Oa, formed by binding matter around the wellspring until it became a new world with a burning green heart at its core.

Then came the central battery, built to harness the green light through the core of Oa. We had a new purpose as well - with this much power at our command and with the technology allowing others to harness it finally perfected, we would create a force for justice that would span the universe. It would bring peace and security to even the darkest corners of existence, and would do so with the same cool, emotionless calculation with which we lived. To fight the forces of injustice, we would arm these defenders with the green flame itself - the moral balance for having prevented the rest of the universe from ever learning such a power existed at all. They couldn't be trusted to use it themselves, but we trusted ourselves to arm agents to use it for everyone's best interests.

Our answer was the Manhunters; advanced androids powered by miniaturized power batteries that remotely accessed the central battery on Oa. We programmed them with a list of directives designed to make them the perfect arbiters of justice in the universe. We worked meticulously and methodically, taking as much time as a project of this magnitude demanded. When they were at last ready, we released them to begin their great work. And it was good.

The Manhunters were perfect. Able to think critically, react to any variable, and calculate the most just solution to any problem they confronted. They were fair, they were even-handed, and they were infinitely adaptable. What's more, all 3600 were linked in a constant network, allowing the discoveries and calculations of one to be shared and multiplied by all. It was a time of peace and prosperity, and we were so very, very pleased with ourselves.

By this time, we were unrecognizable from our former selves, both physically and mentally. It had been eons since the fall of Maltus, eons of forced evolution, eons of isolation without emotion or connection. We had become what you see us as now, and even then we were already just as certain of our own rightness and perfection. With our Manhunters and our citadel on Oa, we would remake the universe in our own image of justice and correctness.

But the time came when the Manhunters began to alter their own directives. Their calculations began to make them believe that they had conflicting programming. When such contradictions occurred, they collectively determined which was the higher demand of justice and deleted the "lesser" directive. We didn't catch this new behavior until it was too late. When we pulled them offline in the end, we found that they had deleted all but a single directive, which had been so altered and reconstructed that it was unrecognizable from the programming we had given them in the beginning.

Their last remaining directive stated that living beings were the source of all injustice and suffering in the universe. As all living beings were capable of such criminality, the only way to achieve total peace was to eliminate life. If only we had caught them sooner. If only we hadn't been so certain of our own perfection. But we didn't stop to ask questions until it had all gone too far, and by then the massacre had already begun.
_______________________________________

He hovered over the planet, watching the destruction happening all around him. He felt an ache deep in the pit of what would have been his emotional core but instead was only an absence. Seeing the death and devastation all around him, even the absence hurt.

His brother Guardians were in action all around him. He ought to have been helping them shut down the Manhunters, but the sights and sounds had caught him. He was brought up short and forced him to take it all in and risk a moment to reflect. He watched the towers of Ysmault crumble and fall, the lush fields burn, and the skies turn red. He felt the planet groan and shudder as its orbit was narrowed, and he could envision the burning red wasteland it would become in time.

We could stop this, he thought. The Guardians have the power, and we certainly shoulder the responsibility. We could right the course of this planet and help the people of Ysmault return to their former glory. But he watched the Manhunters slaughtering the people by the thousands and knew that he wasn't watching a situation that could be put right. He was watching genocide.

A Manhunter robot engaged him and he had to fight it back. The Guardians had learned to call on the green flame themselves, harnessed and manipulated with the power of their hyper-evolved brains, but never directly touched. The Manhunters had overridden the security measures the Guardians had implanted in them, forcing each one to have to be shut down manually, and that usually meant they had to be destroyed. But he was meticulous with his creations; he sent tendrils of green energy into the robot to turn off its systems. Powerless, the android fell to the ground below. It had taken him many battles to perfect that maneuver, and several others had learned it as well. Many Guardians had died trying. Many still died. It was the greatest loss of immortal lives since Krona's entropy wave had doomed Maltus.

He looked down to where the Manhunter had fallen and saw one of the red-skinned inhabitants of Ysmault huddling nearby. His body was large and heavily muscled as was typical of the males of his species, but the broken bodies over which he wept were likely both female. Was there a third? Yes, in his arms. An infant.

"Who are you?" the Guardian asked as he hovered near the weeping man. The creature continued to shudder in pain over the dead bodies, so he repeated himself. "Who are you?"

The creature slowly turned and looked up at him, and in his eyes he beheld a raw and intense hatred so powerful it actually brushed against him like a hot wind. Ganthet was actually moved backward by it.

"You did this!" he screamed, a primal fury roiling in his throat. He had clearly been injured himself, the horns of his red-skinned face having been torn out. His physical pain, however, was nothing next to the trauma of what he'd witnessed. What he was still witnessing.

"We let you send your machines to our world," he spat. "You promised us peace! Justice! And… now…"

Rather than speaking, he simply raised the slaughtered infant in his hands up to the air, as if having to look upon the lifeless child was enough to say everything.

"This was not our doing," the Guardian said. "We're trying to stop it-- to help you."

"We don't need your help! There are none of us left to worship you, Guardian! Your robots have seen to that. My world is dying and all you people care about is retrieving your tin soldiers!"

"No! When the Manhunters are stopped, we will correct the orbit of this world. Everything will be made right, you will see."

"I have already seen!" he roared, dropping his child and standing up in a puddle of his family's blood. "The blood that flows from my people, my wife, my children - it has shown me visions! I have seen what will come, Guardian."

"Oh, dear creature," the Guardian sighed. "This has broken your mind. But that, too, can be fixed, if you would only--"

"I will stand on the bones of your dead!" he screamed, and again his rage washed out like a physical force. "I will lead an army of the broken, the lost, and the damned and we will burn your citadel down!"

He dragged a claw across his own chest, allowing blood to flow freely down, then smeared a gory palm down his face. "I name myself Atrocitus, and my righteous fury will be the red flame that consumes you all!"

Red flame… the Guardian backed off, raising a hand to his mouth. He remembered what his friend had said on that rooftop all those centuries ago. There were other powers in the spectrum that lay dormant, but they would awaken in time…

His mind calculated his next move in a split-second, and he made his decision. He didn't believe in mad prophecies, but neither would he risk the future by doing nothing in the face of this. If the Lost had been right and there were other powers out there equal to that of the Guardians, and if the dying world of Ysmault could bring another such power into being, then it had to be stopped before it was too late.

The Guardian raised his hand and summoned the green power. Channeling it with the pure force of his will and his mind, he drew the power to him without ever allowing it to pass through him. Shaped and focused, never touched, he blasted Atrocitus with a pure green beam.

"This world must die…"
_______________________________________

Unforgivable. The things I've done in this endless life I've lived… Do you see, yet? This is my only hope. If I'm to make up for the horrors I've caused, I have to make the rest of my eternity count. The lives I've taken must be outweighed by the lives I save and the hope I can bring. It has taken me-- too long to reach this place. For some time I've been trying to steer my brother and sister Guardians to a new path, but they resist. We've been as we are for such a long time now, and change… is a hard road. So at last, I'm willing to stand on my own if I must in order to do what has to be done.

Back then, I was willing to bury my head the same as they do now. I saw what was welling up in Atrocitus, the red flame waiting to be lit, and I was afraid. I wouldn't admit it - we Guardians were supposedly without emotion - but we were not unable to feel, only to suppress all feelings to tiny embers deep within. The coming of Atrocitus was like fuel to turn that ember into a flickering flame, and I had to snuff it out. It was fear that drove me to strike him, and fear of reprisal that made me back off and leave him to the Manhunters.

I consulted with my fellow Guardians and we all linked psionically in order to reach a consensus across the sector. In the heat of battle with the Manhunters, those senseless butchers of our own creation, we agreed that we would take no chance that other powers equal to our own could ever be born into this universe. We allowed the Manhunters to finish their grim work on Ysmault before disabling them all and clearing them out of the rest of the sector.

The death toll was unimaginable. You think you have seen suffering in your time? You think you have been responsible for horrible things? We made the Manhunters to be our agents of peace and justice in the universe, and before we could stop them they had successfully eradicated all life in an entire sector. We even intentionally allowed their grim work to reach completion throughout one entire galaxy before we stepped in ourselves. Can you comprehend that? How many trillions of lifeforms were made extinct in that time? The Manhunters were thorough - no life could be left behind in their cleansing, from sentient beings to the smallest amoeba. The whole sector was left bereft.

The Guardians were likewise devastated. In our deactivation of the Manhunters, our numbers were reduced to a pittance. Less than twenty of us survived. So many lights snuffed out… the senselessness of it all…

We buried the Manhunters, sealed them away on barren asteroids in the black regions of the outer unknown universe where there were no stars, no planetary bodies, and no possibilities of their return. Or so we thought - Krona had other plans, but we wouldn't know about that until much, much later. That is another tale.

When we returned, Atrocitus had lived up to his word. He had survived the genocide of Ysmault along with four others. They called themselves the Five Inversions, and they had mastered a dark blood-magic that made them far more powerful than should have been possible. Suffice to say that there was a battle and after a century of conflict we won, though not before they became lords of what they named the Empire of Tears.

When we sentenced them, I found that I had been… affected by all that had transpired in such a short time. I could not bring myself to kill these men, the last of a species I had doomed to extinction. I won the debate and we decided to leave them stranded on what was left of Ysmault. The world was returned to a more stable orbit, though its skies would remain red forevermore. They were abandoned there to live or die on their own, but without any of the materials that would be necessary to leave that world. The Guardians would keep watch on them and declare theirs the Forbidden Sector, where no being was allowed to traverse.

Returning to Oa, we began anew. A newfound concern for the possible reality of the visions seen by the Lost and recorded in the great book left us keenly aware of the danger of fear on the wielders of the green light, yet it was obvious that machines were not capable of the flexibility and creativity necessary to do what we required of them. We decided to create a new force of living beings empowered by us to be a peace force, each one brave, honest, and true, but most importantly - without fear. The first power rings were forged, and the Green Lantern Corps was born.

It all worked very well, but there were occasional problems. Each Green Lantern wielded nearly unlimited power, and power has an ability to corrupt even the most valiant spirit. Over the time that followed, there were occasional renegades. They were always routed and usually handled with relative ease. The anti-matter universe finally proved useful to us - we used it as a prison in which to banish rogue elements within our Corps. It all seemed a tidy solution, but as was often our downfall, our certainty in our own genius made us blind to our faults.

Krona had survived the accident in his laboratory. As a disembodied spirit, he had been literally present at the beginning of time. It was that very accident that caused the creation of the anti-matter universe in the first place, and in the billions and billions of years since the dawn of existence as we know it, he had amassed a great deal of power in that place. He kept us from discovering Qward and the sentient life flourishing there under his mental influence, and that he had manipulated their evolution to his advantage from the beginnings of life in that mirror-universe. Through the Qwardians, he was mastering the yellow flame, easily accessible in the anti-matter universe though very difficult to control. His Qwardian weaponers had harnessed it into beam weapons not unlike bolts of lightning, but he needed something much more precise and controlled.

He saw what we had done in creating the Green Lantern Corps and duplicated the process to forge yellow rings. At the same time, the first exiled Green Lanterns began to appear, and Krona took advantage of our foolishness in sending them to a place we barely understood. Through them, he learned of how the anti-matter universe stressed the limits of a positive-matter brain. Confused and disoriented, mentally broken by the very nature of this universe, Krona's disembodied spirit twisted them to his service. He took the exiled Lanterns and gave them his yellow rings, building a small Corps of his own.

But he was still very weak in the positive-matter universe in which we live. He could watch and he could learn, but he could do little else. So he had to keep waiting until an opportunity to take action.

And so now I must tell the tragic story of Yalan Gur…
_______________________________________

Green Lantern Yalan Gur was among the finest to ever wear the ring. Defending space sector 2814, Yalan was everything other Lanterns aspired to be: courageous, cunning, tough, and brilliant. In his tenure as a Lantern, he bested a sun-eater, ended an intergalactic invasion single-handedly, negotiated peace between planets at war for centuries, and captured thousands of the corrupt, the cruel, and the criminal.

He had been a simple man when the ring found him; a field-hand on an agrarian world. His selection had been a quandary among many in the Corps, as his predecessor had been a great general; before that, there was a revered scientist. This uneducated being seemed a poor replacement for such great beings. But Yalan was clever and he was creative, two traits that often make the difference between good Lanterns and great ones. He took to the ring like a natural and consumed information as quickly as he could get it in his hands. He sought out teaching from the wisest men he could find and taught himself what he couldn't get elsewhere. In that young farm-hand had been a mind of unparalleled brilliance just waiting for the chance to be set loose.

Yalan was the first to feel it – to sense that there was more to the power in his ring than simple science. He began to feel a connection to the power the ring channeled, and believed the green light was more than just an energy source. Through meditative study and deep introspection, he overcame the power ring’s vulnerability to yellow and fully mastered the power at his command. His discoveries formed the basis of an entire new philosophy of how a Lantern used his ring, and Yalan's writings would go on to inspire generations of Lanterns after him, including two of the most famous - Abin Sur and Sin'nus R'oe.

Never had a Green Lantern been so strong or so skilled, and sector 2814 blossomed with peace and prosperity. But this story is a tragedy, after all, and nothing lasts forever. As he aged, Yalan changed. It was slow and subtle, but all the worst corruption is. He began to lust for control, seeing it as the only way to ensure peace. He believed himself the only being wise or strong enough to rule, and saw it as his responsibility to take total control of the planets under his protection. He conquered galaxy after galaxy, a great dragon soaring through the cosmos and bringing absolute fascistic dominion over all he found. By the time he began his attempt to conquer Earth, he had drawn the retribution of the Guardians. They instilled a flaw within his ring: wood and plants-- things of nature. Suddenly the wooden farming implements of the simple humans the Dragon had come to conquer were able to fight him back. He was so surprised at his weakness that he was mortally wounded by their attacks before he could retaliate.

Yalan Gur retreated to space and wasted away. As he drifted, he reflected. In the clarity that comes with death, he was more than humbled – he was repentant. Truly and deeply he realized the error of his ways, and how far he had fallen from the protector of peace and justice that he had once been. The very attributes that allowed him to harness the true secrets of the ring - wisdom, patience, and humility - had been forgotten in a mad grasp for power. In his repentance, he gave himself wholly to the force that fueled his ring. Yalan became one with his power battery, transcending physical existence to become his true self; a luminous being, a spirit that watched over his former sector and waited for the right time to return.

Through this metamorphosis, his power battery was changed. He was anchored to it, but the change he went through was so monumental that the lantern was severed from the central battery on Oa. It became a conduit – a direct channel to the green flame. It was left adrift in space, floating from galaxy to galaxy with Yalan Gur acting as a watchful, protective spirit of his former space sector.

The tragedy has a turn, however. As a being of pure energy, Yalan became aware of Krona. Using what power he now had, he shielded sector 2814 from Krona's gaze for thousands of years, waging spiritual war with the ancient spirit. When Yalan knew his time was at an end and he would pass on to the next phase of his existence beyond, he sought out a champion who could replace him. He found Alan Scott.
_______________________________________

This was the legacy of Yalan Gur, you see - he opened a channel through his old ring, and Alan Scott was able to use a power stronger and more pure than any Green Lantern before him. He was directly in touch with the green flame; like a man who could use all the power of a star, while other Lanterns carried mere flashlights.

But Yalan Gur had passed on without being able to impart any of his wisdom to Scott, so this new champion - the first human to ever wear a Green Lantern ring, even if it was an altered one - knew nothing of Krona or the Corps or any of the things Yalan Gur had discovered in his long life. Ironically, even as Scott grew more and more experienced with the ring, his engineer’s mind focused on learning the mechanics of the ring rather than the more esoteric or spiritual elements that would have allowed him to access the direct channel his ring and battery had become. His analytical mind focused on the science of the ring - the exact opposite of what had allowed Yalan to become what he became.

What's more, the impurity we had placed within Yalan's ring remained, which left Scott powerless against wood and plantlife. This prevented him from ever attaining Yalan's power level, and kept him from coming to our attention on Oa. Indeed, it wasn't until Scott returned from temporal limbo many decades later that we discovered his existence. When we did, we were greatly concerned.

During his time in limbo, Scott and his ring had bonded. He had merged somewhat with the green flame itself. The two were connected. When he returned to realspace, he lit up in our vision like a flare in the night. We watched him after his return, ageless despite his years, endowed with a power he was only just beginning to understand. We saw him using our name, carrying our weapon, and though he seemed a just man, we were… afraid. Once again, we refused to recognize our own fear and assumed it was logic when it was anything but.

We decided we would bring Alan Scott to Oa and put him on trial to determine whether or not he would be allowed to keep his ring. It was a foregone conclusion - we had already made our determination. Just as we would with Sin'nus R'oe many years later, we produced a farce and called it justice. But the illusion of propriety would be our shield against suspicion, and we were absolutely certain that allowing anyone to keep that ring would be disastrous. So we sent the Corpsman from his sector to retrieve him. Fortunately, the two already knew each other…
_______________________________________

Alan closed the latches on his suitcase and sighed. Looking down, he rubbed the ornately carved green ring on his left hand and shook his head.

"You've brought me no end of trouble, you know that?" he sighed, then caught himself short. He'd been talking to the ring more and more lately; it had started when he and the rest of his friends came back from that dimension outside of time where they'd been trapped for almost half a century. While time quickly caught up with most of them, he stayed the same. Watching all his friends age decades in the span of years while he didn't had made him feel very alone, like he couldn't talk to anyone about what he was going through. Even among a very rare group of men and women, he was unique.

That's why he talked to his ring, he assured himself. Not because he felt like it might talk back. Not because of the dreams he'd had in limbo, the conversations he couldn't quite remember between himself and a green light. If that were true, he'd be crazy. He wasn't crazy, just… He was old. And tired. And even if his body looked forty-six, he felt about a hundred and nine. Old men could be forgiven for their quirks.

Walking downstairs, he could hear the sounds of his two children arguing. Two children; it was still strange to think of himself as a father. Their mother Rose hadn't told him that she'd been pregnant before they both were swept up in that battle with Ian Karkull that had led to them being lost in limbo for over forty years. When they escaped back into the real world, she had disappeared. He hadn't gone looking for her - he had Molly, and though she was now a woman nearing seventy, he loved her. She had been his whole world, and he had proposed to her the morning he was lost in time. Decades later, he'd finally been able to walk her down the aisle.

He brushed his finger over her photo on the wall as he passed down the stairs, just as he did every day. They hadn't had long together before age stole her away from him, but it had been enough. They loved a lifetime in those years.

He didn't find out he was a father until after Molly died. Jenny and Todd were already twelve-year-olds, living with adoptive parents. Rose's Will had contained a letter that told him about the twins and he hadn't known what to do with the sudden discovery. He was a little ashamed to admit that his initial decision was not to do anything about it at all. They were happy with the new family and he didn't think his life had any room for being a father.

But then Jenny's skin started to turn green and strange, frightening things started happening around them and he felt like he had to step in. As awkward as it was at first, as many uncomfortable conversations as they had to have, what had begun as a burden he didn't think he wanted had turned into the best thing that ever happened to him. Now he had the kids every weekend and was teaching them how to control their powers, and pretending that he didn't know they were sneaking out and being heroes behind his back. Jade and Obsidian - ah, the impetuousness of youth. He protected them from a distance, keeping them safe but letting them learn on their own.

He smiled sadly, thinking how surprised Molly would have been at what a progressive dad he turned out to be. But what could he do? They'd go out with or without his blessing, their adoptive parents certainly couldn't teach them what they would need… sure he could probably just tell them he knew and stop all the sneaking around. He should. He would, just… after all this business with his trip was over with. When they had time to come up with a plan for how this would all work.

Jade and Obsidian. Lord, have mercy, he chuckled to himself.

As he turned the corner into the living room, he found Todd on his back on the ground, a wall of inky black shadow hovering above his outstretched arms as Jenny wailed on his shadow-shield with talons of emerald energy extended from her own flailing arms.

"You! Are! Such! A! Jerk!" she screamed as he laughed beneath her.

"Whoa, whoa!" Alan said, waving his left hand and sending a wall of green fire from his ring to separate them. "What's going on here? What have I told you two about using powers in the house? And against each other? Come on, now - you know better than that."

"Sorry dad," they both said in unison, and it just about melted his heart to hear it. It had been years before they would call him that, and the first time it had happened - Jenny, stopping at his house to show him her dress on the way to her 8th grade homecoming - he'd wept openly. He hadn't thought it would affect him as much as it did. In some ways, he thought he became a father for the first time that night.

"It's alright, you two. Come on, I'm leaving soon - give your old man a hug."

They scrambled up, Todd pushing Jenny playfully into the couch and laughing at her little squeal as she fell. He scruffed Todd's hair and hugged him close.

"You can have a friend over, but keep it quiet and no girls, hear me?" he smiled at his boy, happy to see the reflection of his own face looking up at him.

"Jeeze, Dad, come on! You know I'm not like that. I don't even have a girlfriend," he said, embarrassed.

"Don't worry, buddy, your time is coming. I didn't come into my own until college either, but we all have our day."

"You went to college in, like, the twenties," Todd huffed, rolling his eyes in that way only teenagers can.

"I attended college in the 30's, thank you," Alan smiled. "And I was lucky to go. My parents were farmers in the depression; you can not imagine how difficult life was then. Why, when I think of how--"

"Uh, oh," Jenny laughed. "You got him going on another 'In my dayyy…'"

"Why, in myyy day, cars were called buggies and buggies were called horses," Todd said in an old-man voice.

Jenny hunched over and wobbled her hand like an old woman trying to hold her cane steady. "--And you could see a movie for a nickel and men wore hats everywhere!"

"And I was wearing an onion on my belt--"

"Which was the style at the time!" they said in unison, laughing as their father rubbed his forehead.

"Someday you'll have to deal with being old and you'll understand," he sighed, hugging Jenny. "And your kids will tease you about not being 'with it.'"

"For starters, nobody says 'with it' anymore."

"Or groovy."

"I was in limbo for groovy," Alan chuckled. "Thank heavens. I look back at history and I'm glad I was out for some of it. Some times were not meant for guys like me."

"It's okay, Dad," Jenny said as they walked to the door together. "I like that you're old-fashioned. Todd could learn a thing or two from you about being classy."

"Hey, I'm classy!" he protested.

"Not hardly," she stuck her tongue out.

"I've got character. People like character."

"Just because you are a character doesn't mean you have character."

"I knew it! Daaad, Jenny did steal my Pulp Fiction tape!"

"Enough, you two," he laughed. "I've got a really, really long trip ahead of me and I don't want my last memories before I go to be an argument about some adventure magazine."

"It's a movie, Dad."

"Called Pulp Fiction? Huh. Whatever, the point is, I'm going into space and nobody's said how cool that is."

"You fight supervillains and stuff all the time," Jenny shrugged. "Space is pretty normal."

"Not for me it isn't! There'll be aliens and the like, I'm told."

"Again, Dad - you fight crazy monsters and huge creatures and robots and all kinds of crazy cr#p," Todd agreed with his sister. "Aliens aren't a big deal. You've teamed up with the Justice League, and they've got aliens."

Alan sighed heavily with a wary smile. "Kids these days. My face could turn purple and orange plaid and they wouldn't even blink."

"Uhhh, Dad?" Jenny quipped, pointing at her head. "My face turned green. Still not impressing me."

They stepped outside into the backyard and Alan looked to the sky, shielding his eyes with his hand. He was wearing a nice suit just in case, but he suspected this would be a more official kind of affair. He rubbed his ring with his thumb and felt the power there just waiting for his request.

He squeezed his hand into a fist and green fire leapt from the ring, washing over his body. As it rolled across him, it transformed his 3-piece suit into the red and green uniform of the Green Lantern. His dark purple cape dropped into place, his mask settled across his eyes, and the only thing left of Alan Scott was the old leather suitcase in his hand.

"My guide will be here soon. Do I look okay for an old guy?"

"You look great, Dad," Jenny said, reaching up to adjust the front clasps of his cape on his shoulders.

"Yeah, not a day over 75," Todd smiled.

"That's pretty good for me," he laughed, knowing he could pass for just over half of that.

In the distance, a green light could be seen. It coalesced into a line cutting through the sky, like the contrails of an airplane. With a bright flare and a roar like a jet turbine, the other Green Lantern came to land in Alan Scott's backyard.

"Hey, Alan," the younger man smirked.

"Good to see you, Hal."

"Ready to go?" he asked as they shook hands. "Oa's a bit of a trip from here."

"I imagine so," he nodded. "These are my kids. Hal Jordan, meet Jenny-Lynn and Todd Hayden."

"Good to meet you," Hal smiled, shaking Todd's hand. "Good grip, kid. He's gonna be dangerous, Alan - look out."

"Hello," Jenny said, shaking his hand. She blushed meeting him; he was so handsome, his brown hair tousled from the wind, the cut of his jaw, the way the uniform clung to his…

"Nice skin," he smiled down at her. The spell was broken. "Hal Jordan."

"Uh, yeah…I got that…" she mumbled turning away.

"Okay, Alan, we've gotta jet."

"Alright," he said. He had one more hug from his kids and smiled down at them, rubbing their chins. "Okay, this weekend is a test. I'm putting a lot of trust in you leaving you on your own at my house for the night. I don't need to worry, right?"

"Nooo, Daaaad," they said in unison.

"Thaaat's right," he nodded firmly. "You're almost out of high school. It's time to see how you can handle this kind of responsibility."

"Yeees, daaad."

With a final wave goodbye, the two Green Lanterns took flight. Alan was surprised at the trepidation in his gut. Hal must have picked up on something because he asked him if anything was up.

"No," Alan said. "It's just… this will be the longest I've ever been in space and the furthest I've ever flown."

"Really?" Hal asked, shocked. "Man, when I got the ring I practically lived in space for the first few years. I couldn't get enough of it."

"Not me. I like my feet on the ground and my head level."

"Well prepare to have that head blown off your shoulders, Mr. Scott. I don't know what the Guardians want to see you about, but I promise you this - Oa is going to be the wildest thing you have ever seen. Plus, you've got 3600 brothers out there in the void that I'm sure are dying to find out the story of the lost Lantern."

"I guess I'll see, then," Alan said, but he knew deep down that this was more than a simple assembly. He suspected it was going to change his life forever, and probably not for the better…
_______________________________________

We took his ring and sent him home even as we began to study his daughter from afar. Yes, Jennifer was known to us, as was her power. We had hoped that by studying his ring we might learn of how it had changed and what it had become, and perhaps therefore what it had done to cause a being like Jennifer Hayden to be born. We never did, or at least not in the way we were ready to accept.

I was the lead researcher on his ring. I spent years working with it to uncover its secrets, finding little of use. But I was using cold logic and science to attempt to understand something of which I and all of us Guardians had made ourselves willfully ignorant. I think, though, that I was in contact with the green flame the entire time. I think that it opened my eyes, or at least helped me to open them myself. Then again, it may just be that I became more distant from my brothers and sisters and so I had a new perspective on our actions. I began to think of things in a new light, different from every other Guardian.

It was around this time that a young sentient named Pteran Ryde became a Green Lantern. We have learned much of his relationship to Krona's plot and how the two came to be one being that was neither man. In his billions of years spent shaping the evolution of the Qwardian race, Krona mastered the art of spiritual possession. He could enter the body of a sentient being and take it over completely, allowing him to rule the Qwardians and control their social and technological growth as well as using his other powers to shape their genetic development.

Once the spirit of Yalan Gur finally dissipated from this plane of existence, he became completely focused on finally enacting his plan for revenge on us. He would first bring down the Green Lantern Corps from within, then when we were at our weakest he would bring out his own Yellow Corps to crush us completely. But to do so required he become a Green Lantern in truth, burying his real self so deeply that even all the power and awareness of the Guardians could never detect him. So he set about laying all his plans in motion before leaving himself behind to become someone else.

Pteran was a real being, separate and individual from Krona, born to a mother on Haora the same as any other of that world. But in the moment of his birth, Krona entered his body and, to put it as simply as I can, crushed the child's soul and replaced it with his own dark spirit. In that moment, Krona ceased to be. He buried himself so completely inside the body of the newborn that he literally became the child, a blank slate, having no knowledge at all of his true self. There must have been subconscious triggers, pre-implanted suggestions to guide the development of the boy as he became a man, but the hard truth which you must understand is that Pteran Ryde was a real person - not the infant his parents conceived and not Krona, but a being entirely his own.

The triggers laced deep in his subconscious shaped him into a person of virtue, kind and fearless, capable and brilliant. Plans Krona set in motion long before he became Pteran ensured that a chain of events unfolded leading at last to the death of sector 2815's Lantern Prime on Pteran's homeworld just as he reached full adulthood. The ring chose him as its new bearer, and the rest is well-known record. In short, he became one of the very best our Corps had to offer.

But all the time, things were in motion. We Guardians came to suspect a plot against us, and our ability to see coming events through the powers at our command were dulled. The future had always been so clear to us, but now we could see less and less. We were afraid. We shut ourselves off completely from the universe, even our own Corps. We made proclamations from on high that made the lives of our Corpsmen more and more difficult, all the while setting more rules and regulations and requirements to sate the demands of our growing paranoia.

I could see this all happening and started to realize what we were becoming. And in time, the reactionary decisions came with increasing frequency. We were getting worse, and though I at last began to openly question our choices I was unable to change our course. As an act of protest, I began to use my name again. Ganthet. It feels good to say; to be myself again. To have reclaimed what made me who I am, for good or ill, and to choose to be a better person instead of simply dimming my light to comfortable darkness.

Since I couldn't change the minds of my brothers and sisters, I acted more covertly. When sentenced to lose his ring, I assured that John Stewart was not exiled but placed in the AgriCorps and sent to the world where a rift to Qward existed. I then saw to it that Guy Gardner became his replacement. I released Alan Scott's ring and allowed it to find a new bearer. When word reached us of Darkseid's plot to gain the Anti-Life Equation, I used the opportunity to bring together two Lanterns I believed would have the unique vision necessary to find the heart of our problem and root it out. So I brought Hal Jordan from Earth to Oa and placed him under Katma Tui's command. Yes you, Katma. The only other I knew would be able to be what I needed you to be to save us all.

In turn, I brought Jennifer Hayden and placed her under Jordan's watch. I had become aware through Scott's ring that she had a singular connection to the power of the green flame and began to believe she could be the Starheart mentioned in the pages of the Book of Oa we had removed from public view long ago. Together, the three of you learned from each other and strengthened each other. Most importantly of all, you were willing to ask questions even of your masters the Guardians.

The Guardians grew worse. They were almost happy to use Sin'nus R'oe as a sacrificial lamb, sentencing him to exile in order to convince our unknown enemy that we were no longer watching for him and trick him into overplaying his hand and revealing himself. That it drove R'oe mad and turned him into the commander of the Yellow Lanterns was an acceptable price to pay; to the Guardians, he was a being who showed so many of the hallmarks of fallen Lanterns past that we only helped reveal his true nature. They refuse to accept blame for what he has become when the truth is that Sinestro did not fall from grace - he was pushed.

In the end, though Krona was rooted out and the Starheart awakened within Jennifer, we would have lost if I hadn't openly broken from the Guardians and taken direct action against him. I wasn't alone, this time; others came along with me. I have at least begun a breaking of traditional thought among them. I hope it will bloom into a new path, but time will tell and I don't have the time to wait and see.

I don't have time because I know the truth, now. Everything the Lost told us was true - there are other lights in the universe as strong as ours. The yellow was lit by Krona, and he has become the channel that fuels their own central battery in Sinestro's twisted version of our own Corps. The red, too, has been lit. Hal Jordan encountered it on Ysmault, and was taken over by its unstable power. The other Guardians are terrified of this, and exiled Jordan because they believe him permanently tainted by the red flame I first saw in Atrocitus.

Now even our former fellows, the Controllers and the Zamarons, have begun to pursue their own sources of power, lighting the orange and violet flames in their efforts. All that remains are indigo and blue, but they can't be far behind. The Guardians have planned a confrontation with the Zamarons and Controllers to force them to stop their machinations, but they will not succeed. Nor will they succeed in closing off all doorways between the positive- and anti-matter universes to trap Sinestro and his Yellow Corps. Nor will continuing to label Ysmault's sector "forbidden" somehow prevent the red flame from drawing users just as all the others have.

The Guardians are fools. They believe this can still be stopped. They think that we can tamp it down and lock it away like we did before, but I know that the truth is we never succeeded in locking away the power - only slowing its discovery. Soon the entire spectrum will be alight, some for the good, some for evil, and if we are not prepared we will be plunged into the darkness of the blackest night.

Which means the other part of the prophecy of the Lost may also come to pass. There will be a war of light that engulfs the galaxy. I can already see this as nearly inevitable. These powers are fundamental aspects of the universe, an underlying power that may in fact be the very force used to create all existence at the moment of the birth of all that is. Each is keyed to a central emotion of life, a central facet of sentient existence, an emotion so core to what we are as living, thinking things that they have a depth and breadth of power all their own. They cannot be stopped, they can only hope to be turned to positive use somehow.

And this is where you come in, Honor Guard. I saw to it that you were brought together, that you were all here now as part of one unit with broad freedoms to take action without Guardian sanction. I've been leaving doors open for you from the beginning and it has brought us all here. Each of you has something within that will give you unique abilities to solve the coming problems and stave off the crisis that looms over us. I will help you all I can, but even I do not know precisely what is coming or how it can be stopped. I only know that it is coming and that it must be stopped. And I will give you everything I can to help you become what you must - the emerald line across which the darkness will not cross.

Some of the other powers, the other lights of the spectrum, may actually become allies in this. Certainly there are dark, evil drives central to all living beings, but there are also altruistic drives as well. Do not turn away help, and do not hesitate to make allies of enemies, as you have with Yrra Cynril. The girl was lost to darkness and could have become a Yellow Lantern as easily as being taken by the red light. Instead, you put out her fire and she has come here and found peace. She will be part of your force, now.

And more will come. In time, the two bearers of Yalan Gur's ring will become part of all this. The ring is a direct channel to our power, just as the Starheart is, and just as Alan Scott is becoming. For whatever reason, humans - a race over which there was great debate about whether they should be allowed to become Green Lanterns at all - have become positioned as part of the first and last line of defense against the dark. As has the protégé of our Corps' greatest enemy and our greatest failure, the son of one of our greatest heroes, and a creature so simple and unexpected that we never intended to allow his having a ring at all.

Lanterns Stewart, Gardner, Hayden, Tui, Tomar, and G'neesmacher… our future is in your hands. Are there any questions?

To be Continued in Green Lantern Corps #23!

enjoyed this really well written SCIENCE-FICTION ,will be looking forward to more.