Fact: Guy Gardner was dead. The Starheart’s Teutonic energy sword had entered under his sternum, driven up into the middle mediastinum, punctured the entirety of his rapidly beating heart and severed the venae cavae before exiting out the meat of his back, narrowly missing the spine.
For a split second, he was drowning in his own blood-- in his own body-- before the weapon was violently twisted and his heart burst and his spine tangled along the length of the blade. The sword was then yanked out indiscriminately, more damage done on the way out than the way in, if that was at all possible, and Guy only managed a few words before expiring completely, which was a feat unto itself.
His last words, incomplete, gibbered with blood-specked lips, “n-not… without… seeing… the…”
Not enough life left in him to finish the statement. What would this man’s last words be? Simply:
Not without seeing the stars one last time…“There goes the resistance,” said the Starheart.
He allowed his sword to disassemble into the base energy components, drifting off into the ether, and then looked down at the corpse of the last of his viable enemies. Two Green Lanterns from another reality, one he’d escaped from, one he’d transformed into this broken world, and both dead at his hand.
The first, Hank Henshaw, unzipped on a molecular level and cast into the cosmic winds, dead and gone.
The second, Guy Gardner, heart a pulp and his spine in fragments, dead and--
As his body cooled on the stone floor of the Justice Society of America’s headquarters-- the Emerald City constructed by the Starheart’s vast cosmic energies-- Guy’s body began to smoulder. Small sparks of blue light took him at the edges, spreading from his shoulders down the length of his arm, from his feet up to his armpit, until he was completely enveloped in a shade of light the Starheart would have thought impossible.
Guy was caught wholly in the cerulean aura, blood sucked back inside the open wound that was his chest, heart de-smashed and reconstituted and his spine pinned back together with vertebrae. And after the damage was undo, there was a pop, a crackle, and the Green Lantern was gone, the only sign he’d been there the casual expenditure of energy performed at the hand of the Starheart himself.
Confused by the turn of events, wondering passively where his victim had gone, the Starheart shrugged and turned away from where Guy Gardner had died.
“Well,” he said, unamused, “that was unexpected.”
Unexpected indeed. Cast an eye up, past the Emerald City’s boundaries, up into the sky and past the gravity regulating constructs that shifted like clockwork in the upper atmosphere, and you would soon be close to the Sun. The vast, burning combustion engine that kept the people of earth alive despite themselves, hid something deep inside itself-- scant fragments of blue light that fizzled, and coalesced, until a body took shape and screamed into existence once more--
“Oh, my fucking God!” cried the revived Guy Gardner, clutching at nothing as he tried to find some foothold on this new lease on life.
The heat licked at him but didn’t burn. He looked down at where the Starheart’s sword had entered his body, but apart from the fact he was naked, the thing that surprised him was the ugly scar that quickly faded where he’d been stabbed. The damage had been undone, he’d been evacuated from the scene of his murder, and now he was floating in nothing, the only thing on his body to keep him safe from harm the power ring-- on--
“Wh-wh-what?”
Guy looked at his ring-slinging hand and took note of the colour of his badge of office, the thing that allowed him to operate as an elite member of the Green Lantern Corps.
It was now blue.
Issue Seventy-Five: “The End of an Era”
Extra Sized Anniversary Extravaganza
HoM / FLINCHUM
NEW JERSEY:
A state away, Hank had died screaming. Torn to molecular shreds at the hands of the Alan Scott-wearing Starheart. Guy was dead as well, stabbed through the heart and shredded from the inside out by the twist of an energy sword.
John Stewart had watched it happen from afar, his nanocamera projection relaying all the information in the throne room directly into his head. He’d seen his partner, the frayed-nerved astronaut, cease to exist, and he’d seen his best friend, the hot-headed former Air Force pilot, bleed out as his insides landed on the outside.
And he’d watched it happen.
Let it happen. Why? Because the Starheart was on a power level on par, if not beyond, any they’d faced before. Able to travel through time to manipulate the threads of history to bring this crooked alternate universe into being. Able to transform all of reality itself thanks to the power he wielded. If John had flown in, ring blazing, he’d be dead too… just like Guy. Just like Hank.
Gripped by a feeling of utter helplessness, John tried to blink the sight of Guy’s dead body away, but the memories stayed with him regardless, forever part of his memory thanks to the ring’s immense capabilities.
So, now it wasn’t ‘simply’ a mission of undoing the damage done to the timeline by the Starheart’s machinations, but it was one of revenge. He would have to avenge his friends and try and undo what had been done to their world. Despite knowing that one didn’t necessarily mean the other, he was determined. There was no way that the Starheart could be allowed to survive, Alan Scott be damned.
There were other questions on his mind: Where was Kyle? Sinestro? Where were his sole allies left in this broken world?
No, no time for questions like that. Only time for one: How do you stop a veritable god?
What had his nanocamera picked up? The odd energy signatures surrounding the Starheart, for sure. The ring wasn’t the focus of the interstellar energies he wielded, but the central battery, built directly into his chest. Did he even have a heart anymore, or was it more like an engine?
But that wasn’t just it. Odd energy signatures. Plural. Familiar-- there was the lightning that crackled over the monster’s body, that made him blur even while he stood still. Speed energy. Speed
Force energy. Extra-dimensional fuel. John had never run with the Flash that had founded the Justice League, but that man was a mystery. No one knew his name, not even Jay Garrick, the Justice Society’s scarlet speedster. The Starheart had stolen speed, but what else?
There were golden artefacts built into the emerald armour and extended down into the cape. The amulet looked like it belonged to Doctor Fate. What had the Starheart done to Alan Scott’s teammates? Stripped them of their powers? But he saw no wings to suggest Hawkman, no whiskers to hint at Wildcat. No. Each stolen powerset was calculated.
He played back the footage that his ring had recorded, no longer relying on his recall. In amongst the crackling gold lightning of the Speed Force was something else. Purple. And there were hints of words carved into the armour he wore, in the seams of every piece. John had to focus in to get the answer, and when he did he put it all together. The collection of letters spelt
Cei-U, repeatedly. Repeated like a mantra, or a containment spell.
Make a wish. Give it fuel. Spin it into existence.
Jakeem Thunder’s Thunderbolt. Jay Garrick’s Speed Force. Doctor Fate’s amulets and helm of Nabu.
John grimaced. He had an idea and it didn’t make him happy.
AN UNKNOWN LOCATION:
“We’ve figured out how the Starheart made the change to our reality to create this one,” said Kyle.
“We
think we do,” corrected Sinestro.
Jay Garrick, flanked by the remnants of the Underground who had long fought a guerrilla war against the Starheart’s Justice Society forces, listened intently. Hawkman, wingless and angry; Hourman, frayed and twitchy; Mera, lost and lonely; there were so many heroes here, but what ounce of hope did they have left?
“How?” pushed Garrick.
Sinestro elaborated. “We took the image from Mera’s memories, from the fall of Xebel. He’s wielding three additional powersets than he did in our reality. Speed Force. Doctor Fate’s vestments. The Thunderbolt. Does this sound familiar to you?”
“I… I’m not even sure…” murmured Jay.
“Are you okay, sir?” asked Hourman.
“You’re not even
sure?” repeated Sinestro, disdainfully.
“I… I can’t think…” whispered Jay, clutching his head, as if a migraine had overtaken him.
“Leave him, he’s been through enough already trying to keep this world from tipping over,” snapped Hawkman.
“But he’s not even sure. He lost his legs but did he lose his speed?”
“How can he have speed if he doesn’t have his legs?” spat Hourman.
“You’re joking, right?” said Kyle.
“Seven Hells, you think this is a joking matter? Speedsters can only access the Speed Force if-- they-- " Hawkman faltered in his fury as something began to click in his head.
“Do you know what happened when he lost his legs?” pushed Kyle.
Mera nodded. “Starheart attacked, Jay bought us time, it cost him everything.”
“His legs. Or…” started Sinestro.
“What are you thinking?” asked Kyle.
Sinestro leaned toward his friend. “Speedsters can steal speed. It’s part of what they can do. So, you’re telling me that the Starheart left a man capable of stealing his speed back alive? He cut off his legs and left him alive out of spite? That doesn’t sound right. Not right at all.”
“Speak plain,” said Hawkman, raising his mace at the duo while Hourman looked over his mentor.
“You’re some of the world’s greatest superheroes. United under this man. And yet you’ve not won. You’ve been hiding. I don’t understand. Who made that choice?”
“Jay’s our leader, but we’re a democratic group,” said Brainwave. “Sorry about earlier by the way. I was rude.”
Sinestro was puzzled by the young man’s statement, but he ignored it. “Jay’s kept you in the shadows. That’s not a sound decision. You’ve let the Starheart build a foothold in your reality. Justice League. Justice Society. No matter the name, that doesn’t sound right, does it?”
Jay shook his head dismissively, but the words that emerged from his mouth were filled with bile. “You… talk… too…
much--!”
Quick as a flash, he spun his arms forward and unleashed a torrent of kinetic energy at the two Green Lanterns that sent them staggering. He shoved Hourman back so hard that the wall of the bunker imploded, then with an immense slice of his hand cut Hawkman from neck to sternum, causing the Thanagarian to cry out and collapse.
He turned his gaze to Mera and rubbed his hands together faster than anyone could track, causing a stream of static electricity to zap her body and send her into seizures.
Lightning crackled at his stumps, and as he
stood up and the energy formed prosthetic legs! He ran toward the Green Lanterns, faster than they could send a thought to their rings to react, but before he could shove his hand through their auras and chests, he seized up, teeth cracking as his jaw locked. His momentum sent him stumbling forward and his legs vanished.
Brainwave spat blood, the act of out-thinking a speedster bursting numerous blood vessels in his head, but he had managed to do just that-- “My God. He was a sleeper ! He was the Starheart’s inside man!”
Garrick seized up, and without the Speed Force running through him he once more looked like an old, decrepit man. The two Green Lanterns restrained him, elevated him off the ground, and worked to keep him out the game. He fought against their constructs, even as the psychic’s attack restricted his thinking, and their rings burned with the effort. Without a connection to the Central Power Battery, mainlining energy in this dimension was almost painful, but they powered through.
“Hawkman! Katar! No!”
Hourman had pulled himself out of the rubble, his cape in tatters, and rushed over to the Thanagarian Hawk Knight as he gargled blood. The alien held on for a few seconds more before dying, his body unable to recover from the damage inflicted by the man they’d followed all these years. Mera looked up, her skin smoking, and a steely expression formed on her face when she saw her friend die in agony.
Kyle was stood beside Sinestro, the two of them trying to control their breathing, trying to focus themselves after the immense outpouring of power they’d had to maintain. He was shocked as the others with the revelation of the last few hectic minutes. “He was a spy. All this time, leading their team… Jay Garrick was a spy.”
THE EMERALD CITY:
The Starheart screamed as the lightning he bore like a badge of honour was torn from his body. He fell to his knees, the ground still sticky with all the blood Guy Gardner had leaked out. It was a gory scene, and he didn’t want to ruin his cape amongst the human debris.
He struggled back to a vertical base and staggered away from the bloody tapestry he’d unleashed in his throne room, and as he gripped the seat of his power, the shadows came alive and rushed into the centre of the room, coalescing into the form of a young man.
“Hh. What’s wrong, father?”
Obsidian, second-in-command of the Justice Society of America, but content to bark orders from the shadows, leading the way via the darkness that he manifested in the physical world, was the son of the Starheart. He was every evil the entity could create, wrapped in flesh and shadow; a soul of darkness made human.
His nimble fingers turned to talons. Was this his chance? Patricide then ascension to the throne?
“Don’t even
think about it, son,” growled the Starheart. Pale, weak, but determined none the less, he straightened up, readjusting his own internal mechanics to cope with the sudden amputation of a much-valued power source. “We’ve been attacked. One of the trifecta of power I use to change the course of this planet has been snatched from me by the Underground. Summon the Justice Society! I know where they hide. We will unleash everything we have on them, and retake what is mine.”
“Which… which one did they take?” asked Obsidian, licking his lips.
“…Nothing that can’t be returned,” said the Starheart, calmly. “Summon the Society. We haven’t much time.”
He wished his other child, Obsidian’s twin, wasn’t so weak-hearted. He would have preferred conversing with someone who didn’t intend to kill him as soon as he saw his opportunity. But alas…
THE SUN:
Floating in the heart of the sun, Guy tried his best to move but found he couldn’t. Whatever force had allowed him a few seconds of frantic scratching at existence had rescinded its permission, and now he was stuck in place, molten solar fire licking at him.
The blue ring wasn’t responding like his old one. there was no reassuring yet stern voice that emanated from the centre jewel. The voice of Thaal Sinestro, the previous wielder of the power ring*, was absent, and that made the Boston-born former pilot nervous as all hell. He knew that all power rings held a template of their previous owner’s personality to voice the internalised AI, and he was worried that the one he’d become so accustomed to was now gone…
*Guy stole Sinestro’s original power ring back in Tales of the Green Lantern Corps #4. He used to be a bastard.
“What… the hell… just happened?!” He asked, staining his muscles against the invisible vice grip that held him tight.
<YOU HAVE THE ABILITY TO WIELD GREAT POWER SELFLESSLY, WITHOUT AGENDA,> came the deep, accent-less voice from deep inside his power ring.
<YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN.>“Oh, screw me sideways, that’s not… that’s not what I wanna hear right now. What is this, some kinda White Lantern deal? Didn’t Kyle’s old lady make that devil’s pact? I ain’t built for that kind of cosmic messiah sorta nonsense-- what the hell is this?”
<FOR EVERY HEART, THERE MUST BE A SOUL. SOME LONG ABSENT. SOME EXCISED THROUGH ACTION, OR INACTION. BUT IF THERE IS A STARHEART, THEN THERE MUST BE A STAR-->“-- Soul?! Star
soul? Is that… oh, hell, oh helling hell
hell, you’re the blue light, the blue sun, we never asked your name, we just…”
Thoughts continued to race-- Hank Henshaw was dead! Torn asunder by the power of the Starheart! Kyle Rayner and Thaal Sinestro were somewhere in this alternate reality, same as John Stewart! But if his ring had been twisted blue, if he’d once been a Green Lantern and now he was something different--
Painfully, he swallowed, his throat like a cheese grater. It was an uncomfortable action, but it was all he could think to do. “If you could… if there was a power up involved, then why… why before all this, didn’t you…?”
<WE WERE NOT EXTINGUISHED, NOR WERE WE NEAR ENTROPY, THEN. THE STARHEART FOUND US, ON THE EDGE OF THE SOLAR SYSTEM, AND DESTROYED US. DESTABILISED THE CONTAINMENT FIELD THAT HELD OUR IMMENSITY IN PLACE. THE ONLY ACTION LEFT TO US WAS TO FIND REFUGE… FIND A PLACE THAT COULD HOLD US. WE FOUND YOUR LIFE, NEAR EXTINGUISHED. WE FOUND A VESSEL TO HOLD US. YOU ARE THE BLUE LANTERN NOW, THE VESSEL OF THE STARSOUL. YOU WIELD GREAT POWER, AND THE POWER MUST BE WIELDED WITH RESPONSIBILITY.>“Oh, shit. I ain’t ever done anything responsibly,” whispered Guy.
<THEN YOU BEST LEARN TO, GUY GARDNER. BECAUSE YOU ARE THIS REALITY’S FINAL HOPE.>GOTHAM CITY:
John knew what he was looking for, and what he was looking for made him feel sick. It was clear that the Starheart had an active knowledge of both this divergent timeline and the timeline they’d came from originally, utilising it as such to ensure the creation of certain powersets, to design a version of the Justice Society that would follow his lead, and allow him to conquer the world.
Sifting through extant information floating around the atmosphere was easy enough. He was looking for criminals. The worst of the worst. The kind of criminals that might be able to defeat a Green Lantern-- the kind that already had, a reality away. Who were there, waiting for him in the streets?
Gotham City wasn’t Gotham City anymore. It was a veritable
Arkham City, the asylum having spread like a cancer across the streets until every building was an institute, every citizen was a madman or woman.
There were no children left.
John didn’t search for an answer as to why. As much as a Green Lantern tried to never show fear… the thought of learning the truth shook him to his core.
The cell of the prisoner he was looking for had once been a tenement building, but now it was something else entirely. Every few blocks, massive emerald columns reached up and stabbed at the sky, and John suspected he knew why. Each column held a particularly nasty prisoner, but he only wanted one in particular… but perhaps it made sense to go all in, to double down on the genocidal plan he had for taking down the Starheart.
“Hey! Hey, you shouldn’t be in here! No supers allowed!” barked a man, who was some sort of prison guard. He was dressed in a black uniform, with glowing emerald streaks at his sides and shoulders. Some kind of power-up offered by the Starheart?
Without questioning the moral implication, John shot him in the head with a rifle construct. The back of his skull exploded in a haze of scarlet, and then he fell over. The shot was silenced, the victim didn’t make a noise as he died, and the only sound made was the awkward collapse he made as he toppled in on himself.
“Sorry, son,” whispered John. This is not the real world. He knew that. This was a corrupted timeline, created by the Starheart’s machinations. So, any lives lost in the effort to restore the original reality would be acceptable losses, because when everything was fixed… they’d be alive.
Right now, killing was a means to an end, quick and efficient, and that’s what he kept telling himself.
Entering the ruined tenement building, John clambered over rubble, up some stairs, and past a collapsed wall. He made it to where the column intersected with the building itself, and where the prisoner inside resided. The energy column throbbed as he reached out with it with his left hand. He kept his ring away from the energy, cautious about any protective measures in place. There was information floating in the air, something that the likes of a Green Lantern, or a Starheart, might be able to pick up on.
The prisoner was visible. Decrepit. Wasting away. He looked like he’d been locked away and forgotten about, emaciated and gaunt. It was horrible to see someone in such a sorry state, like the lightest of breezes could knock him down, but of all the people in the world… he deserved it.
William Hand, known back in the original reality as Black Hand, was suspended in emerald…
…And he was alive.
John would have to do something about that.
AN UNKNOWN LOCATION:
“It’s like you tore away at all the scar tissue and exposed the wound,” said Brainwave, focusing on the Flash.
“What do you mean?” asked Kyle.
“The Starheart used the anguish of Jay using his legs to hide the psychic surgery he performed on him. I would never have been able to see Jay’s memories of it if you hadn’t pushed. He’s kept us… ineffectual. Any decision has been made with this voice in the back of Jay’s head telling him to make it as useless as possible. But we trusted him. He gave us small wins, so we never doubted his loyalty.
We trusted him. When you pushed it cut through all that and I can see it as plain as day. My God…”
Brainwave sent a gentle pulse of Jay’s memories out into the room.
Above a battleground strewn with the bodies of the dead heroes who’d united to face a dire threat, two men who had been best friends in one reality a heartbeat’s different to this one battled.
Except, it was decidedly one-sided. Jay Garrick floated, unable to move as the Starheart approached. Tiny emerald blades dug into the speedster’s scalp to expose bone, then his skull was shorn loose by grinding drill constructs, until his wet brain was exposed. He was in unimaginable pain but the Starheart smiled. He made it that the speedster couldn’t scream, then began picking at the Flash’s cerebrum, making him the sleeper agent he needed. But there was something else, an ambient memory picked up from the Starheart himself… something Sinestro picked up and held onto tightly.
“Are there any other speedsters?” he asked.
“What? What do you mean?” said Mera.
Hourman shook his head. “The Starheart killed them all. Killed my wife. Killed my father-in-law and all the others too. Left Jay alive. Mocking him, he said. But… what are you thinking?”
Sinestro looked at Kyle. “Do you trust me?”
“Hell yes, why?” he replied.
Sinestro drove a pair of emerald spikes through Jay Garrick’s head and heart, killing the speedster instantly. Speed Force energy swept into the room and collided with the Flash’s body, sending all the men and women gathered flying backwards into the walls. Sinestro had managed to withstand the blast, almost expecting it, and when the guerrilla fighters looked at him there was rage in their eyes.
“What did you
do?” screamed Hourman.
“Kyle, track the source of that energy! I just severed the Starheart’s connection to the Speed Force. Why else would he keep him alive? But there’s no more time to explain, we need to get out of here,” said Sinestro.
“You killed a man!” barked Mera.
Sinestro held his hand up. “He’s not dead in
our reality-- the
real reality. But not if we fail to restore it. You’re echoes. Reflections.
Constructs. But there really is no time!”
“Holy crap,” whispered Kyle.
“What is it
now?” asked Hourman.
“That energy just ran all the way from New York. What’s in New York?”
“The Starheart’s citadel,” whispered Mera.
Sinestro checked his ring and rubbed his aching wrist. “I just sent a flare up that’ll lead Starheart and the Justice Society right here. We need to move.”
“What about the people we’ve rescued? We need to get them to safety,” said Hourman.
Kyle looked at Sinestro with shock. “My God. You don’t care. You actually don’t care. You don’t think they’re real.”
“Constructs,” replied Sinestro, simply.
Mera grabbed Kyle by the arm. “Can you stop him?”
“What?”
“Can you stop the Starheart? Undo the damage? Save all the lives he’s taken and reunite me with my love? Can you make it so this world never happened?
Can you?”
“I-- yes-- yes, we
have to,” said Kyle.
Mera nodded once. “Brainwave, wipe our memories of the Green Lanterns. We stand, and we fight and nothing we do betrays them from this point on. We buy them
time.”
“But all the people we’ve saved! That trusted us to keep them safe!” shouted Hourman.
Mera shook her head. “Go down to them now. Pass out as much Miraclo as you can. This is our last stand. They die either way.”
“You-- you’re
serious,” said Hourman.
“Deadly,” said Mera. “Henry, are you ready?”
“I’ll cue it up,” said Brainwave, fingers to his temples, psychic powers coming to the fore.
“Save the world, Kyle. Save everything,” said Mera. Then the world went white in their minds.
“…Who are you talking to?” asked Hourman, looking back from the entrance to their meeting room.
“…No one. The Society are coming. Do as you’re told, Rick!” shouted Mera.
Above the bunker, in the ruined streets of Metropolis, the Justice Society prowled. The majority of the buildings had fallen during Lex Luthor’s last stand against the Starheart, some eight years ago. Luthor’s deadly arsenal of high-tech weaponry had all been loosed in one final effort to bring the super-powered dictator down, but all it did was kill millions and piss the Starheart off.
The Underground later found out that Luthor lasted for seven months, as his body was disintegrated one molecule at a time.
“Down there,” said the Starheart, motioning below their feet.
“Father are you sure… we have to do this?”
Starheart turned to his daughter, and saw the fragile figure of Jade, Obsidian’s twin, cowering behind the rest of the Society. They’d come out in full force. The Spectre towered over the scene, wrapped tight in his cloak, watching from his towering vantage point as the rest of the team huddled together. Power Woman whispered in his ear, the young host of the Spirt of Vengeance listened, nodding. He would do as he was told. He always did as he was told...
A bored Stargirl floated atop her cosmic rod, taking pot shots with the energy stars her cosmic converter belt generated at the squawking birds that flapped their sparsely feathered wings. They were the last survivors of the fall of Metropolis. It made sense to finish the job that Lex Luthor had started.
“Careful, Cindy. You don’t want their charred corpses hitting our glorious leader’s shoulders,” said Hawkwoman.
She flapped her wings and flew circles above them, appreciating the job her young ally was performing on the verminous birds. Shayera was there when the former-Shiv had cut Courtney Whitmore’s throat and taken her identity as Stargirl. Hawkwoman herself had handed her the Nth metal blade to perform the act, and it was the unique properties of the knife that had allowed Cindy to cut through the energy bubbles Courtney had tried to manifest to save her own life. Pointless.
Doctor Mid-Nite was there, along with the Icicle and his daughter, Icicle Princess, the cyber-synthetic Human Torch, the AI avatar of the Thinker, Count Vertigo, Geo-Force and Blackbriar Thorn… they were all there, ready to utterly annihilate the insurgent Underground.
“They’ve resisted every effort we’ve made to make the world a better place,” insisted the Starheart.
“I know… but to kill them all…”
“Sister, if I have to come out and do this myself, you know it won’t be as nice,” whispered Obsidian, from deep inside her shadow.
“Jenny, we’ll make it quick for them,” pleaded Power Woman, descending.
“But… they’re human… like us…” said Jade.
Starheart grimaced. He’d insinuated his power into the minds of much of the Society, but not his children. He’d twisted and turned their higher brain functions and reasoning powers to his own agenda. For some, it was easier than for others. Power Woman was his pride and joy, because he could feel her innate goodness bubbling up under the surface, and all he had to do was cut away at parts of her Kryptonian brain to make her acquiesce to his needs. He let her inner voice lurk though. What a horrible torture to inflict upon someone so noble? Beautifully horrible.
“Joar, could you please
cool it with your icefield?” asked the Thinker, his avatar fluctuating. “You are disrupting my holographic projection.”
“Cool… cool it? Dunno, man. Shut up… having trouble…” Icicle looked at his daughter, who was sweating profusely as well, the beads turning into shards as they formed on her skin. He felt an odd tugging at his sides, and then realised-- “Oh… oh, no…”
Icicle and Icicle Princess exploded outward, a shower of ice expanding outward and then hanging in the air in almighty chunks and slabs. The Human Torch raised a burning hand to the water, but it was as if it suddenly took on a life of its own, and instead of dispersing it downed him, extinguishing his flame in an almighty gulp. The technology in its body went crazy and was abruptly crushed by the water as it travelled through him, and then the ruined streets of Metropolis were silent, three of the Justice Society snuffed out like they were nothing.
Until Power Woman’s eyes lit up. “It's that damn water witch! Mera’s here!”
THE SUN:
“…That’s your pep talk? With great power comes great responsibility? Jeez, where have I heard that before?” said Guy.
<IF YOU DO NOT, THEN ALL HOPE IS LOST.>“Well, I’ve already lost my home, and that goes a long way ruining hope for me, Starsoul. If I don’t fix what your brother did, then my sister, her family, my brothers in the Corps, god damn
everyone… they’re gone. So, either you give me back my ability to god damn move or you let me die properly!”
<YOU NEED TO UNDERSTAND, GUY GARDNER. YOU NEED TO COMPREHEND. VIOLENCE CANNOT FOLLOW VIOLENCE. THAT IS HOW YOU PERPETUATE THE CYCLE. THAT IS HOW YOU FAIL. THE ONLY WAY-->Guy strained against the invisible restraints, growing angrier. “Enough! Ain’t never been a problem I’ve not solved by punching it in the face! So, c’mon, you bastard-- let-- me-- go--!”
The blue ring on his finger spat and spluttered, and an eruption of cerulean energy spewed from his body. He was suddenly floating again, in the heart of the sun, but in control of his faculties, able to move under his own volition.
“Thanks… I guess.”
<YOU WIELD US. THAT IS OUR NATURE NOW. YOU SHAPE THE ENERGY OF THE BLUE SUN. YOUR WILL IS OUR WAY.>“Then we’ve got a job to do. Your brother killed me, guessin’ that I need to return the favour and save the world. Hell, save the whole universe. A god damn Wednesday, then.”
<ONLY BE EMBRACING THE EVIL PERFORMED BY OTHERS AND OFFERING AN ALTERNATIVE PATH CAN CHANGE THE WORLD, GUY GARDNER. REMEMBER: VIOLENCE CANNOT-->“Shut up! I’m guessing your little power up will let us go toe-to-toe with the Starheart. Gotta wield you like Alan did your brother. Okay. Let’s--”
Before Guy could say “Go!” he shot out of the Sun, the speed and force behind his flight immeasurable. Behind him, the yellow sun that Earth orbited shifted in shape and colour, transmuting into the same bright tones that rippled across Guy’s newly blued uniform.
He barely had time to comprehend what he was mainlining, what he was tapping into-- he wondered if the sense of elation that he felt as he bent his ring to his will was similar to what Alan Scott felt back in their home dimension back when he fashioned a ring out of the emerald battery that saved his life in the midst of a rail disaster.
Using a Green Lantern power ring could sometimes be exhausting, like you were trying to funnel part of yourself into a hole that changed size and moved around at will. It took purpose of thought, strength of will, to see it through. But this…
Guy Gardner flew, and even though he’d lost his friend, his home dimension, his family… he smiled.
GOTHAM CITY:
“Wake up.”
He blinked, the world stinging his eyes as they adjusted to being back amongst it.
“Do you hear me? Do you understand me?”
He swallowed, his throat dry and coarse. “Y-yeah.”
“Do you know who you are?”
“Huh?”
“Your name, man. What’s your name?”
“W-William. Will. Will Hand.”
“Yeah. Thought as much. Do you know why the Starheart locked you away here?”
Hand’s eyes adjusted, and he saw the man sat in front of him atop a pile of rubble. The man was a stranger to him, but there were elements of the costume he wore, the green and the logo on his chest, that screamed danger. But Hand was too weak to fight back, to offer any opposition.
“I don’t… who… who are you?”
“My name’s John. I’m trying to save the world. I think you’re a way we can do that.”
“Me?”
“You’ve got a power inside you. The kind of power that can change the direction of the world. The Starheart locked you away because of that. So I want to unleash you on him. Do you know what that means?”
“You… you’ll have to kill me.”
“…You almost sound excited by the thought.”
Hand licked his lips. He was salivating. “Oh, I am.”
TORONTO:
Sinestro had separated from Kyle, and they both had their missions. They were looking for components to bring about the end of the Starheart’s reign of terror-- they had to take apart the machine that allowed him control of this reality, and it was a case of hunting down cogs, so they could jam something in them and disrupt the processes that ground this planet underfoot.
Sinestro was after a bearer of great power. Someone who could wield a power source beyond any he might himself hope to control, someone who’d been burglarised of it by the Starheart a reality away.
Toronto was abandoned apart from two life signs. One was his target. The other, Thaal assumed, was his target’s keeper. He had a theory about the reasons the Starheart kept certain enemies alive.
It boiled down to a ‘
Just in case, he thought.
A possible ‘
Just in case he needed a top-up’, perhaps, akin to sticking your power ring inside a power battery, or maybe a
‘Just in case he needed to change something even further’…
It helped to have a toolbox fully stocked with everything you needed to maintain your engine.
Sinestro zeroed in on his target. They’d analysed the footage generated from Mera’s memories and knew that the most important thing now was to tear the thunder from the Starheart’s body, just as they had the lightning. That meant going after the original bearer of the Thunderbolt. With the Justice Society focused on the Underground back in Metropolis, he had a chance to make a play for an important part of the Starheart’s machine.
He almost thought he’d get away scott free, but the psychic bolt that felled him came without warning, and he crashed into the snowy ground below, rolling to a stop as his head screamed at the intrusion.
“YOU KNOW, I THOUGHT THIS WAS GOING TO BE A BORING ASSIGNMENT. KEEP THE BOY COMATOSE. KEEP HIM SAFE. THEN YOU GO AND TURN UP. I HEARD THE MASTER ALREADY KILLED TWO OF YOU ‘GREEN LANTERNS’. MAYBE I’LL TRY MY HAND AND OFFING A THIRD.”
Sinestro looked up bleary eyed as the albino gorilla loomed over him. “Wh’re… who’re… who are
you?”
“I AM THE ULTIMATE HUMANITE!” declared the gorilla, pounding its chest. More sparks of psychic power flew from its temples, as saliva lashed from its lips.
Sinestro closed his eyes and shook his head, words slipping from his mouth as he tried to stand on shaky legs. He didn’t need explosions, he needed… something… small… “G’’ow… t’ame.. o’an… I’nna… k’l…”
“SPEAK UP IN FRONT OF YOUR NEW MASTER!” bellowed the Humanite, only for him to abruptly fall over as his brain exploded inside his thick skull, killing him dead.
“Good… to know… the name… of the
animal… I’m going… to kill…” repeated Sinestro.
He brushed himself off and grimaced, setting his jaw as he zeroed in on the man he’d come here to rescue. It had become, disturbingly, so very easy to kill in this universe. It was a fake reality. One that wasn’t supposed to exist, and he had to hold onto that belief if he was to get through it. He had to accept that if he was to fix everything, every part of this construct was just that, a falsehood, and it was only his determination of bringing the world back to what it was meant to be that would keep him sane.
Toronto was a wasteland of nuclear winter. The radiation was ambient now, not deadly, but no one had come here for the inevitable fear of death. Sinestro was so used to his ring absorbing ambient information from a world’s internet, or their version of it, that the sparsity of information that his ring had received since arriving on this version of Earth unnerved him, but he persevered.
Tracking the Humanite’s steps back to the bunker he had emerged from, Sinestro tore the heavy-duty door off its hinges and flung it behind him. He walked in silence, hoping to not waste any more charge from his ring, and turned numerous corners in the winding labyrinth of the place until he found a single hospital bed, and someone hooked up to numerous machines and IV drips atop it.
“Thunder…” mused Sinestro. He scanned the drugs being fed into the comatose young man. Sedatives, nutrients… his ring sent threads into the tubes and bags and undid the worst of the drugs’ damage, and the boy began to stir from his chemical-induced coma.
“say… say… say…”
“Try not to speak, you’ve been unconscious for a long time,” said Sinestro. He glanced down at the boy’s malformed arms and legs, the horrific muscle atrophy a side effect of the Humanite’s less than caring bedside manner.
“say… say… you…” whispered Jakeem Thunder, tears welling up in his eyes, and--
METROPOLIS:
--A bolt of purple lightning erupted from the Starheart’s chest, barrelling up toward the sky toward the heavens. He didn’t cry out in pain, but he made a noise, like a grunt, like something had been pulled from him that he didn’t know had become so intrinsically part of his being. He careened toward the ground, gripping his chest, and noted that his armour, which usually had rivers of golden thunder and purple lightning running in the divots of the metal were now empty.
“…Father?” said Obsidian.
Always the opportunist. Always looking for a gap in his father’s armour. He raised a blade of pure shadow, ostensibly to finally finish off his father, but when a group of awkwardly attacking young men and women scrambled toward him over the rubble all around them-- their eyes wide and their pupils thick black dots-- clearly, they were hopped up on Hourman’s Miraclo pills-- he growled and focused on them, leaving his father in the dirt as the Starheart processed what was happening.
The Spectre just watched.
So, what was happening? The Green Lanterns from the reality-before had taken the Speed Force from him, taking one of the arrows in his multiverse-changing transformative quiver away from him. Just now they’d somehow stolen the Thunderbolt, the mystical genie that had come together with the vestments of Nabu he wore and the sentient kinetic energy field of the Speed Force, to allow him to change the timeline to his liking.
The Starheart had to think fast--
BLUE VALLEY:
“…I am not built for this,” whispered Kyle Rayner.
The ward in the near derelict hospital had been manned by disjointed, Frankenstein monster-like creatures, all stitched together limbs and empty eyes while wearing nurse’s outfits. The slutty kind.
Their leader, a man in white surgical scrubs and a surgical mask over his mouth, had been taken out of commission with one hell of an emerald energy-assisted right hook, and then it was clean up. He’d used his ring to check for life signs, only picked up the slow and steady heartbeats of those in the hospital beds, and then did what he thought the others would do-- he incinerated his undead attackers with an all-encompassing blast of super-heated green light.
“…Now what?” he asked.
With their legs removed above their knees, in every bed sat a speedster. He recognised some, and their names were printed on the charts at the bottom of their beds. B. Allen; B. Allen III; J. Chambers; W. West; E. Thawne; and then countless others. The thing that worried him the most were the bandages around their heads. He grimaced as he scanned them and found that parts of their brain had been removed.
Speedsters. Lobotomised.
“What is… what is
with this reality?” Kyle asked, incredulously.
The plan was pretty simple in how difficult it was going to be pulling together. Sinestro went after Jakeem Thunder, so they had someone who could wield the Thunderbolt. Jay Garrick was compromised and now
dead, but they still needed a speedster. None of them knew how to conjure that kind of connection to the Speed Force, but there were residual traces in this hospital, so that’s why Kyle came here.
But they… they were all broken. They didn’t have their legs, or their brains. It was like every corner turned in this universe was there to horrify him, to grind him down, and knowing what they did about the Starheart’s true malignant nature, it wouldn’t have surprised him if that was the case.
But why keep them alive?
“Why… why would he do that?”
He began to pace, clicking his fingers as he thought, trying to process what information he had and applying the deductive reasoning that Sinestro had taught him back when they were marooned on a deserted planet at the edge of the known universe and all they had time to do was train*…
*Check out “Scarlet Reign” back in Green Lantern #44-50
“He needs someone. Speedsters. He needs them to be alive. Alive so they can act as a conduit, because that’s all he uses people for. When Garrick died, the lightning was drawn back. Sinestro said… and if Jakeem Thunder is alive… he needs them alive. He needs them alive!”
He rushed over to where Barry Allen lay comatose and legless, and fell to his knees, searching for the way he could do what he needed to do. His ring couldn’t discern any connection to the Speed Force that he could tap into, but maybe if he… if he prayed…
“Oh, oh God. Okay. I don’t know if you can hear me, Speed Force. I don’t know if this is how it works. But this world is wrong. This reality is broken. A monster-- and he is a monster, the worst of the worst-- has taken everything about you that is good and inverted it. He made your champions complicit in it. He’s done this, all of this, to your avatars. If there’s… if there’s anyway… you can… you can think to help us. Or maybe give me… lend me… some of your power… I think I can stop this. My friends and I, I think we can--”
If Kyle wasn’t a Green Lantern, the resulting sonic boom might have burst his ear drums. He turned in surprise as the back wall of the hospital exploded outward, and a figure clad in scarlet and gold came to a skidding halt nearby. Rayner’s eyes opened wide. “Oh, boy.”
“Kyle? Kyle Rayner? What are you doing here?” asked the Flash, as he looked around the room. A second question occurred to him, and he tried to get his bearings. “Where
is here?”
The young Green Lantern didn’t want to waste his time. “Long story short, reality has been twisted and my team and I are trying to put the pieces back together again. We need the Speed Force-- we need to be able to use it-- and I was praying to it, because, like, I have no idea what else to do-- and then you appeared.”
The Scarlet Speedster looked at his hands. “I was running to the future. Harrison said… I can feel myself being pulled forward. I can’t stay. But if the Speed Force delivered me here… then… I
have to be here. Kyle. Your hand. Give me your hand.”
Kyle did as he was told, but then the Flash saw who the Green Lantern had been praying over and looked repulsed. “Oh, God. That’s me. That’s me. They did… what did they do to me?”
“We can undo it. But you need to help--” said Kyle.
The Flash grimaced and grabbed the Green Lantern by the hand. “I can’t stay. I need to keep running. But I can lend you this. A connection. A link--” A spark of energy passed from the speedster to the Lantern, the kind of pulse that caused Rayner’s eyes to open wide. His perceptions altered, a feeling he hadn’t experienced since he wielded the powers of the White Lantern--
--The Flash vanished, his atoms yanked back into the timestream--
--and lightning danced across the surface of Kyle’s power ring--
“
I know where she is. I know where Alex is,” he whispered--
METROPOLIS:
The Starheart had to think fast--
--And he felt like someone had started tap-dancing on his grave.
Unemotionally, Power Woman tossed Mera’s body to the ground and the Xebel queen’s contorted limbs and distorted head nearly dissolved on impact. The rebellion was being routed. The few survivors that had a chance to pop Miraclo pills had been massacred by their own shadows-- a good showing by Obsidian, his devilish child-- and the rest of the superhuman heroes had been killed or were in the process of dying.
But then something caught the Starheart’s eye, a blur from above, something moving so fast that--
Empowered by the Starsoul, an angry Guy Gardner careened into the Starheart with his shoulder, sending the pair of them bouncing through the rubble of Metropolis’ ruins. Guy was screaming obscenities as their bodies created massive craters every time they landed, and the Starheart was completely overwhelmed.
“You deserve this you sonofa--” roared Guy, raising his fist, thinking about knives and swords and death and destruction--
But nothing came.
“-- What?!”
“You… you wield my brother’s power now, don’t you?” Starheart said, blood lining his teeth.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up!” barked Guy, throwing a punch as hard as he could.
“Do you know why I’m here, incarnate in human form, and ruling all I survey? And he remained entombed? Locked away in the prison sun that I too had once called my home?”
Guy’s heart was racing. He’d died. Come back. He was facing his killer. Now he was trying to figure out how to stop him, but he couldn’t conjure a construct to do the deed. He thought, and he thought and only the words of the Starsoul came to mind:
<YOU NEED TO UNDERSTAND, GUY GARDNER. YOU NEED TO COMPREHEND. VIOLENCE CANNOT FOLLOW VIOLENCE. THAT IS HOW YOU PERPETUATE THE CYCLE. THAT IS HOW YOU FAIL. THE ONLY WAY-->The Starheart laughed and shoved the Blue Lantern backwards with an almighty blast of emerald might. “You can’t use the power of the blue sun maliciously! You can’t use it to create constructs to harm! You’re weak!” He closed the gap between them, and his armoured suit began to grow horrible, twisting spikes. “You’re weak, just like my brother, and now I get to kill you again-- and again-- again and--”
“
Get away from him, you sonofabitch--!”
A blast of energy from above separated the two, and Guy spun backwards, taking flight and trying to get his bearings. He spotted John Stewart, hoisting a sphere behind him, and watched as the sphere was thrown toward Power Woman. It shattered on impact, and a man grappled with the Kryptonian.
He immediately recognised him. It was Black Hand, but he looked alive, unlike the zombie-form they’d faced in Coast City not long ago*. He understood the play that was being made. It scared him inside out, but he understood.
*Green Lantern Corps #70-72 & Annual #3
Drastic times… drastic measures… especially when he couldn’t even conjure a damn boxing glove construct with his blue ring!
“You… you really went for the nuclear option, didn’t you?” said Guy.
John patted Guy on the shoulder, keeping one eye on the action. “And you really died and came back, the original Green Lantern play. Though it looks…” he started, gesturing towards the blue colour scheme Guy wore.
“Get-- off-- of-- me--!” bellowed Power Woman, as she grabbed William Hand’s chest and tore it open, splitting him in two and allowing the pieces of the emaciated villain to topple to the floor in two piles.
“Kara, no--!’ The Starheart finally recognised what had just transpired and he looked absolutely horrified. He knew what was about to come-- and as the sky cracked-- and reality began to warp even further from what it had been before the Starheart’s machinations--
William Hand pulled himself together, his skin grey and pallid, having finally ascended to his true form of the Black Hand, dread avatar of M’Nagalah, the Cancer God.
“It is time,” said the Spectre.
Enshrouded in his cape, he had loomed over the proceedings, watching all that had transpired without acting. He’d allowed the slaughter to unfurl, he’d allowed all hell to break loose upon Metropolis, and now he had spoken, and even as the winds whipped, and the storm gathered overhead, as the tentacles of M’Nagalah broke through the clouds and the once clear skies, the Starheart heard, and felt the human heart in his chest drop.
With a gesture, the Spectre stripped the Vestments of Fate from their current bearer, an act that caused the creature to cry out, finally, in pain. He was no longer empowered by the three additional power sources he’d stolen to create this twisted alternate reality, and the truth of the matter shook him to his core.
The helm, amulet, gloves and cape of Doctor Fate manifested separately, floating without a body, while the Starheart was left further depowered, in pain for the first time in decades.
“Wh-what have you done?” He asked, looking up at where the Spectre loomed.
The Starheart was snatched up by a pale hand, and gripped tightly, the Spectre hissing in his face. “You are an abomination. A power beyond reckoning and reason. But you are to be bought down low. You do not think we know the truth? That you broke time and space to become the ruler of this reality? Empowered as you were by all you took in the original timeline, I knew I could not act against you until the time was right. That time: Is now.”
<I am finally free to act,> said Doctor Fate, an ethereal voice emitted from the empty helm.
Guy looked around and almost felt something along the lines of hope. “We might turn this around.”
John agreed. “I’ve doomed this broken reality by releasing Black Hand. With M’Nagalah free… we need to make this fast.”
“Oh, yeah? And what was your plan?” asked Guy.
John grimaced. “I was going to blackmail the Starheart into reverting this reality back to normal, but the train has gone off the rails… we need to improvise.”
Hands began to emerge from the rubble of Metropolis, as M’Nagalah’s manifestation and Black Hand’s true form allowed the dead to drag themselves out of their graves. It was as if all the plans they had a universe away, months ago, had finally come to fruition… but if the Cancer God was allowed free rein on this world, then… then nothing could stop it.
“I have an option,” said Sinestro, shooting toward the pair along with Jakeem Thunder, who’s eyes crackled with purple light.
“You made it. Thank God,” said John. “Where’s Kyle?”
“Mmmmheeerreeeeeee,” said Kyle, zipping onto the scene, his emerald aura crackling with the Speed Force. “Caaaaaaaan’t sloowwwww downnnnnnnnn orrrr I miiiiiightttttt looseeeeee iiiiiiit.”
“And Hank? Where’s Henshaw?” asked Sinestro.
Guy shook his head. “He didn’t make it.”
“Then the sooner we abort this horror show of a universe, the better,” said John.
“GET OFF OF ME,” bellowed the Starheart, and the Spectre’s hand exploded into shards of ectoplasmic energy that showered down on the ground, enveloping the walking dead and causing them to glow. The emerald sun was angered, and he lashed out maniacally, his power levels off the scale. He might have lost his three power-ups, but that didn’t diminish the lunacy and scale of his own innate energies.
“What did… what did…” mumbled Guy.
“Why are you
blue, Gardner?” asked Sinestro.
“Quiet. Quiet! I’m thinking. I think… I think I can buy us some time. I think I know what I need to do.”
John shook his head to disagree. “You can’t generate offensive constructs, Guy. I saw it down there. What can you--”
The Blue Lantern swooped down where the Spectre was reeling from the loss of its digits and grabbed the Starheart around the biceps in as tight a bear hug as he could manage. Below, Obsidian duelled with Black Hand, and Jade watched as the latter plunged a hand through the shadow being’s chest, wrenching out his inky black heart and devouring it like it was the best cooked steak the avatar of M’Nagalah had ever eaten.
Nearby, the reanimated forms of Mera and Brainwave Jr were clawing into the flesh of Hawkwoman and Stargirl, shredding their bodies as they overpowered them.
“You need to stop fighting, Starheart. You need to stop,” shouted Guy, over the chaos of the scene.
“Stop? I’ll never stop! I’ll never stop! They imprisoned me! Trapped me in a sun! Kept me marooned in the darkest galaxies, until I managed to escape! And then I exchanged one prison for another! I won’t stop! I’m free! Finally,
free!”
“You need to stop,” said Guy. He remembered what the Starsoul had said to him, and he wished he’d stuck around up there, in Earth’s sun, and listened to what it was trying to tell him.
<ONLY BE EMBRACING THE EVIL PERFORMED BY OTHERS AND OFFERING AN ALTERNATIVE PATH CAN CHANGE THE WORLD, GUY GARDNER. REMEMBER: VIOLENCE CANNOT-->“Violence can’t… violence can’t beget violence,” Guy finished.
The Starheart shrieked. “Let go of me! Why can’t I-- why can’t I break free--? What have you-- Todd… Jennie… what has-- what has he done--
what has he done to you--?”
The voice suddenly lost the flat affectation of the Starheart, and the passion and spirit of Alan Scott finally shone through. An explosive expulsion of emerald energy followed, shooting out of his body, past the reanimating corpse of Obsidian, and straight into the sobbing form of Jade, who was blasting away at the undead as they swarmed toward her. Power Woman’s throat had been torn out by
“What… what…” whispered Alan, his body quickly ageing, time catching up with him. He looked at Guy, confused, and then crumbled into dust, the immense biological toll of having the Starheart running rampant in his body for so long, mainlining powers it was never designed to hold, his last words a quiet whisper, “
save them all”
Meanwhile, the heroes had rallied around Doctor Fate, who was casting spell after spell against the undead, but there were so many-- however many had died when Metropolis first fell had now risen, the corrupted Justice Society of America were now among the walking dead, and M’Nagalah was loosed upon the world.
The young Bruce Wayne, host of the Spectre, looked up at the sky where the Cancer God’s tentacles licked and lashed out at the world, then down at where the small band of heroes huddled together. Black Hand was focusing all his forces upon their position, and God’s Spirit of Vengeance knew that if they failed, then this existence was doomed, as well as any that might have existed or could hope to exist after.
He swept his hand across the ground, sending the undead flying, and with the fragmented stump of his other reached up toward the hole in the sky, where M’Nagalah was forcing itself out of its own dimension and into theirs. “YOU-- WILL-- NOT-- ENTER-- THIS-- REALITY--!”
“Holy crap, I think he’s buying us some time,” said John.
“What do I do? What do we do?” asked Jakeem Thunder.
“The Starheart used all the powers assembled here to change reality to his whims. We need to undo that, and we can only undo it by working together,” said John.
<What you propose is impossible-- without the Starheart itself, we are lacking that vital, missing piece.>
Screaming in agony, Jade was nearby, arcs of energy flying off her body as the Starheart tried to overpower her. She looked over to the others, desperate, and the next thing she knew, the Blue Lantern landed next to her, and took her hand. “It-- it hurts--!”
Guy shook his head, gripped her fingers tightly, and pulled her close, absorbing the lashings of energy that struck out across the immediate area. “You’re the child of the Starheart, Jade-- you’re uniquely positioned to harness this power like none before you! But you’re also the child of one of the greatest heroes another universe ever saw. Do you see it? Do you see what the Starheart took from you? From all of us?”
Jennie-Lynn’s eyes glazed over as she allowed the actions of the Starheart to brush up against her memories, and then she cried out. She knew the machinations of the emerald sun, how it had come to this world at a certain point and twisted an event in 1939 to take over Alan Scott’s body, instead of the other way round. She knew that the Starheart had even taken Rose Canton, the villainess Thorn, as his lover at a specific point in time, to ensure Todd and her’s birth!
“I… I can control it! I can stop this from ever happening--!” she said, emerald blood running from her nose.
<Then… there might be hope,> said Doctor Fate, as he began to weave the spell capable of duplicating what the Starheart had done a universe away to alter this reality into the twisted hell it had become.
“Cei-u! Cei-u!” shouted Jakeem. “Whatever it takes! I wish that we do whatever it takes to restore our universe!
Cei-u!”
Kyle unleashed the Speed Force he’d been landed by the Flash, and Jade waved her hands and tore a hole in time and space, the same kind that the Starheart had created back in the correct version of reality.
“What now?” asked John.
Guy grabbed his friend by the shoulder and pulled him through the rift. “We jump!”
Kyle and Sinestro followed, and the dimensional tear slammed shut, and the world went black and existence--
FAST APPROACHING THE OUTSKIRTS OF GOTHAM CITY, 1939:
“I tell you, Scott. I’m worried. Decker isn’t one to take it lying down. He’ll try something… he’s dangerous!” said Martin Ladd. He was an older man, dressed in green slacks and a checked red and white shirt.
Whatever he’d seen in Alan Scott had paid off, they were headed toward one of their biggest projects yet, the Blüdhaven / Gotham bridge, something that had made both their fortunes when they won the contract. That said, Dekker had been raging at the celebratory ball last night, and it played on his mind like nobody’s business.
As ever, Alan was dismissive. “Nonsense! Just because our company’s bid to build this bridge was chosen by the government instead of Dekker’s is no reason for revenge! He won’t try anything!”
Alan Scott, young engineer and entrepreneur, dismissed the concerns of his business partner, but when he did he felt a shiver go down his spine, like something awful had just taken a step across his grave.
Still, Martin had to make his point heard. “Dekker’s a loon, you know it and so do I. He-- wait, are we going
faster? I thought the driver was going to take the first journey slow, so we could depart and check your work before the bridge?”
“I’ll check the cab. Stay here,” said Alan.
“Light’s are for hell up there. Take this,” said Sloan, passing him the emerald lantern Scott had brought with him for the journey. An antique of some sort, a good luck charm with a storied past that Scott hadn’t listened to when he purchased it from the pawn shop. Martin wasn’t one for superstition, but it had a practical application.
“Thanks. Check with the others. I won’t be long.”
He moved through the darkness of the coal carriage, the cavernous metal box illuminated by the emerald hues projected by his odd lamp. Then, when he reached the driver’s compartment, his heart sank.
The side door was open, and papers and equipment whipped around the floor, flying out of the train as the speedometer increased. The controls themselves were mangled, utterly smashed beyond any hope of repair. Sloan was right, Dekker had played his hand, and a devastating one it was at that.
The train was accelerating, the controls were wrecked, and the driver was nowhere to be found-- only the tell-tale splatter of blood on the edge of the open door to give a suggestion as to what had happened to him. Murder? Was Dekker that aggrieved?
Grimacing in the face of the howling winds that whipped through the compartment, Alan Scott, the managed to close the open door, but then he looked beyond the train itself and toward the bridge, where smoke rose from the ruined tracks. They were non-existent. The entire train, with dozens of souls onboard, was headed toward the cliffs that their bridge had been built to cross, with no hope of making it across, and they were--
Too late. They careened off the edge of the tracks and hurtled toward the cliff face at horrible speeds. The train hurtled to certain destruction below, smashing into a ravine, breaking into a thousand pieces, and then the only sound at the base of the cliffs were that of the fire breaking out.
Alan emerged from the wreckage, his hand still gripped around the emerald lantern that had illuminated the way for him earlier, completely untouched by the disaster.
“Dead… all dead…” he murmured. Yet, by some strange sort of miracle, he was still alive!
He could not know, that far above the ruined bridge, in the clouds where cerulean light clashed with emerald, that a war raged. The Starheart, wearing Alan’s body, had made the journey back in time after stealing all the powers he needed from the Justice Society, but upon his arrival, he was met head on by three Green Lanterns and one Blue!
“How is this possible?” He bellowed, grappling with Guy Gardner, who had learned from his earlier lesson and had clamped his arms around the monstrous being. “How did you follow me?”
The powers he had stolen to get here were gone, severed by the actions of the heroes in the alternate world that had been created from the perversion of this moment in time-- so now it was four against one, and finally, maybe, just maybe, it would be a fair fight!
“We-- we took-- the long way-- 'round--!” replied the Blue Lantern.
Below, the young Alan Scott learned the truth of his lamp, as it spoke to him in a controlled, dispassionate tone,
<I am the Green Flame of Life! Listen, chosen one, and hear the tales of the Green Lantern!>[/u] A hero was born, even though he’d didn’t know it yet! The timeline proceeded as intended, with no intervention from the Starheart of the future!!
As the powers of the Starsoul interacted with that of the Starheart, the malevolent personality of the cosmic energies that possessed Alan Scott began to fade, and the older Scott began to fight back-- he’d been asleep for so long, trapped in the coma he had been rendered into by the attack of the Justice Society so long ago, but he’d been given a nudge by Gardner’s powers, even as the three Green Lanterns kept his hands splayed out and away from their bodies, unable to direct a cataclysmic blast of energy in their direction!
“He-- he killed Corrigan! Hurt the others--!” said Alan, his personality coming to the fore.
There was a furore of commotion in the skies, unearthly lightning striking at the clouds, making them a strange and curious sight that would be talked about and pondered by historians and scientists well into the 21st century. The only example of Aurora Borealis this far south into the Americas in recorded history!
Guy kept pushing, squeezing Scott tight, his Starsoul-empowered shield the ultimate defence against the powers that lashed out from the Starheart’s body. “That’s it! Focus on that! You kept the Starheart under wraps for so long by sheer force of will! You need to reassert yourself! Wake up! Take control! Think of your children! Your kids! Jade-Lynn and, uh, the other one!”
“Jennie! Todd!” shouted Scott.
“It’s working!” said John, sweat pouring from his face as he and the others strained to keep the Starheart from killing them all, and getting to the past version of Alan Scott below.
“I just wish he remembered Alan’s kid’s names,” said Kyle.
“No! I came so far! Waited for so long!” growled the flat voice from inside Alan’s mouth, “No! No! Don’t! You can’t!”
“Do it for them! Your wife! Wake up, Alan! Wake up!”
“And-- and-- I shall shed my light over dark evil-- for the dark things-- the dark things-- cannot stand the light-- the light of-- of the Green Lantern!” declared Alan, and the emerald armour around his body shattered, and finally he was free of the malevolent presence of the Starheart-- and with that done-- reality began to warp-- and the five of them were yanked forward-- forward in the time stream--
JSA BROWNSTONE, NEW YORK:
Looking down at the comatose body of Alan Scott, Michael Holt, the JSA’s Mister Terrific, had one question: “If you’re
healed, why aren’t you waking up?”
Michael was there when a terrorist attack on the All-Star Academy-- engineered by the deadly Dragon King-- rendered Alan Scott, the JSA’s Green Lantern, into a coma, as a support beam struck the side of his head and left him at death’s door*.
*Justice Society of America #14
Doctor Cross entered the room behind his colleague and patted him on the shoulder. “We both know it’s not as simple as that. Can’t sleep, Michael?” He’d tried everything to bring Scott out of the coma, but every conventional means had failed. They were in uncharted territory, and that was the worst place to be in when the life of a friend was in the balance.
Holt shrugged. “You know I don’t much need to. Any changes?”
“Your T-Spheres would let you know before I got a chance to get the words out. But yes, for all intents and purposes, Alan Scott is as healthy as they come. But his mind isn’t coming back to the surface. It really is a wait and see situation. Never before have we had a case like this…”
“Shouldn’t have come to it. He saved our lives, and now he’s paying the price… dammit, I should have done more,” said Holt, shaking his head as the memory settled inside him.
“You… you would have done… the same… if it were… within your power…”
“What the--?!” gasped Pieter.
To their collective surprise, Alan Scott pulled himself up in bed, his voice dazed and confused. “I… I just had the
strangest dream.”
THE EDGE OF THE FORBIDDEN SECTORS:
Sinestro lowered his ring and shook his head. “Her trail ends here… wait. Wait. What… what just happened?”
Looking around, Kyle was just as confused as his mentor. “We just… that all happened, right? Everything we just went through… that was real?”
Moments before, they had been on the edge of the threshold that separated the known universe and the so-called Forbidden Sectors, the darkest recesses of the galaxy that the Guardians of the Universe had once forbidden any of their Green Lantern Corps from entering. But then, the Starheart-- the Starsoul-- everything that had happened in the last 24 hours, the rush to set their reality straight--
“…It must have been,” said Sinestro. He hoped so. He hoped everything he’d given in that alternate reality was real, but that the lives lost were not. Just constructs, he’d told himself. They were just constructs…
Kyle’s mind was racing. “I… I… I touched the Speed Force. I saw further then I thought possible. She’s out there, Thaal. She’s out there, in the Forbidden Sectors. Alex. She’s out there and she needs our help.”
“We both know we’re not allowed to enter the Forbidden Sectors. The Guardians--”
“-- Are long gone! My girlfriend is under the sway of the White Lantern! Has been for months! The longer she bears that kind of power, the less time she has! We both know this!*”
*Green Lantern Corps Annual #3
Sinestro nodded slowly. “Then let’s go. Better to ask forgiveness than permission. We’ll find her, Kyle. If it’s the last thing we do.”
Kyle embraced his mentor, and then the pair turned toward the Forbidden Sectors… and entered them.
EARTH:
In Boston, Massachusetts, Gloria Rodriguez, sister of Guy Gardner, waited for her big brother to arrive. Their relationship had grown in strides since he re-entered her life, three months ago*, and he had told her… after everything… “
I ain’t him anymore. I’m not the man you knew when I was younger and stupider. I’m not.”
*Green Lantern Corps #70
So, where was he now? Where was her brother?
She sighed, took a swig from her beer, and headed inside, to where her husband waited. She’d been let down, once again, by her big dumb brother.
And in Coast City, where the relief workers were trying to figure out how to resurrect a city, a man who’d been working alongside the rest of the government officials and charity workers, was nowhere to be seen.
Hank Henshaw had died a parallel universe away, and there was no body for his friends to bury.
And finally, John Stewart awoke with a start, bad dreams ranging from the destruction that ravaged to Coast City, to the apocalypse he’d unleashed upon the alternate reality he and his friends and allowed to die to return to their own.
Earth. Earth had her protectors. And the longer he stayed here, the harder it was to make the decision he knew he had to make now, sooner rather than later. He looked at his ring, considered his sparsely furnished New York apartment, and made a decision. Earth had her heroes. The rest of the universe needed as many as they could get.
John packed up his life and prepared to leave his home world.
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