The Hall of Great Service hummed with the multi-tonal harmony of thousands of beings from across the universe, gathered to honor one of their own. Hal stood at the edge of the vast circular chamber, still adjusting to his formal Green Lantern uniform—a perfect fit that had materialized directly from his ring when Sinestro instructed him on the proper mental command.
"Focus on dignity, solemnity, and respect," Sinestro had explained as they prepared for the ceremony. "The ring will translate those intentions into appropriate formal attire."
The command had transformed Hal's standard uniform into something more ceremonial—the black and green patterns more intricate, the emblem more prominent, the overall appearance conveying both respect for tradition and the honor of his new position. The mental transformation had felt strange, like reshaping a part of himself through pure will, but the resulting uniform filled him with a sense of belonging he hadn't expected.
The chamber itself was breathtaking—a massive dome whose interior surface displayed what appeared to be an accurate representation of the entire universe, stars and galaxies slowly rotating in perfect replication of their actual movements. At the center, Abin Sur's body lay in state on a platform of pure emerald energy, his form preserved in death with a dignity that transcended species.
Lanterns arrived continuously, some materializing through emerald portals of energy, others arriving in small ships that docked at the chamber's many access points. Each newcomer approached Abin Sur's body with reverence, some placing small tokens or mementos on an altar that had been erected beside the platform. Hal noticed crystals, small artifacts, written scrolls, and other objects he couldn't identify—tributes from across the galaxy to a fallen hero.
"Over fourteen thousand Lanterns are in attendance," Sinestro informed him, appearing silently at his side. "Many traveled from the furthest reaches of the universe to pay their respects. Abin Sur was... exceptional, even among the Corps' elite."
Hal nodded, taking in the overwhelming diversity of the assembled Lanterns. Some were recognizably humanoid despite unusual coloration or features; others so alien he couldn't begin to comprehend their physiologies. Yet all wore some variation of the Green Lantern uniform, adapted to their specific forms but united by the emblem they bore.
"I count at least eighty-six distinct humanoid variants," Sinestro continued, apparently noting Hal's observation. "The bipedal form evolves independently across the universe with remarkable consistency—a fact that has long fascinated xenobiologists. Roughly sixty percent of sentient species develop some variation of it."
"And the other forty percent?" Hal asked, glancing toward a section of the chamber where what appeared to be sentient clouds of gas hovered alongside crystalline entities and beings composed of pure energy.
"Are considerably more diverse," Sinestro acknowledged. "The Corps values this diversity—different physiologies and perspectives provide tactical advantages in varying situations. Energy beings can exist in environments lethal to organics, crystallines are immune to certain psychic attacks, metamorphs can infiltrate where others cannot, and so forth."
As they spoke, Hal noticed a small commotion near one of the chamber's entrances. A group of Lanterns parted respectfully to allow passage for two figures who were clearly not members of the Corps. The first was a tall, elegant female whose purple skin and regal bearing marked her as clearly related to Abin Sur. Beside her walked a younger female with similar features but a more reserved demeanor, her medical uniform visible beneath a formal Ungaran cloak.
Sinestro's posture changed subtly as he caught sight of the newcomers. The perpetual intensity that seemed to radiate from him softened almost imperceptibly.
"Arin," he said quietly. "And Soranik. They've come." Though his expression remained composed, Hal detected a complex mixture of emotions in Sinestro's voice—pride, concern, and a tenderness that seemed at odds with his otherwise stern demeanor.
Sinestro turned to Hal. "Jordan, remain here for a moment. I must greet my wife and daughter."
He moved with practiced grace through the gathered Lanterns, who parted respectfully before him. Hal watched as Sinestro approached the two Ungaran women, noting how his typically imposing presence gentled as he embraced the elder woman and placed a formal but affectionate kiss on her forehead. The younger woman—Soranik, Hal presumed—stood slightly apart, her posture suggesting a complex relationship with her father.
As Hal observed this family reunion from a distance, a new voice spoke from just behind him—casual, slightly raspy, with an accent he couldn't quite place.
"So you're the new guy, huh? Abin Sur's replacement?"
Hal turned to find himself facing a humanoid male with reddish-pink skin and a somewhat disheveled appearance. Unlike the Green Lanterns surrounding them, this individual wore a blue and gold uniform bearing a star emblem, and a peculiar helmet that seemed to incorporate both protection and communication technology.
"The name's Rhomann Dey," the man continued, extending a hand in a surprisingly Earth-like greeting. "Nova Corps Centurion, Sector 2814. Which I guess makes us partners, more or less." His expression became more serious. "I worked with Abin Sur for over fifteen cycles. Good man. The best, really."
Hal shook the offered hand, struck by how normal the gesture felt amid the overwhelming alienness of the gathering. "Hal Jordan. And yeah, I guess I am the replacement, though I'm still trying to wrap my head around what that means."
Dey's face crinkled into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Don't worry, you've got that 'deer in headlights' look that all new recruits get. Happens to Nova Corps newbies too. One day you're living your normal life, next day you're zipping around the galaxy with a fancy uniform and powers you don't understand." He gestured around the chamber. "Pretty overwhelming, right?"
"That's putting it mildly," Hal admitted, grateful for the Centurion's straightforward manner after the formal, often cryptic interactions he'd had with most Corps members. "Yesterday I was just a test pilot. Today I'm at a funeral for an alien I barely met, surrounded by thousands of other aliens who apparently expect me to fill some pretty big shoes."
Dey nodded sympathetically. "Abin Sur's shoes are about the biggest there are to fill. No pressure, right?" He studied Hal for a moment. "Test pilot, huh? That might come in handy. This job involves a lot of flying through things that most sane beings would fly around."
Before Hal could respond, Dey's expression grew more solemn. "Listen, I wanted to thank you—for finding Abin and bringing him home. Not many Lanterns get that dignity. Too often in this line of work, when someone goes missing, they stay missing. At least his family gets to say goodbye properly."
Hal glanced toward Arin Sur and her daughter, who were now engaged in quiet conversation with Sinestro. "I didn't do much. Just... found him. He found me, really."
"Still means something," Dey insisted. "To all of us who worked with him, but especially to them." He nodded toward Abin Sur's family. "Family connections in the Corps are rare—there's an unofficial policy discouraging nepotism. Makes Abin and Sinestro's situation pretty unique. Not just brothers-in-law, but one mentoring the other, then Sinestro marrying Abin's sister... caused quite the stir in Corps politics back in the day."
Hal's attention was drawn to Soranik, who stood slightly apart from her parents, her expression difficult to read from a distance. "And their daughter? She's not a Lantern?"
"Soranik? Nah, she chose a different path. One of the top neurological surgeons on Korugar now, from what I hear. Has her uncle's brains and her father's determination." Dey lowered his voice slightly. "Between you and me, there's some tension there. Green Lantern families don't always have it easy—long absences, constant danger, putting the Corps before personal attachments. Makes for complicated family dynamics."
Hal nodded in understanding. He'd seen similar situations in military families back on Earth—the strain that service could place on relationships, the difficult balance between duty and personal life.
"So how does this partnership work?" Hal asked, changing the subject. "Abin Sur mentioned the Nova Corps right before he died, but I don't really understand the relationship."
"Think of it as inter-agency cooperation," Dey explained. "We've got our jurisdiction and methods, you've got yours, but we share the same sector and often the same threats. Nova Corps tends to focus more on conventional crime and conflicts—smuggling, piracy, territorial disputes. Green Lanterns usually handle the weirder stuff—cosmic entities, spatial anomalies, threats that transcend normal physics." He shrugged. "There's overlap, of course, and plenty of joint operations. Abin Sur and I worked together on dozens of cases over the years."
Before Hal could ask more questions, the conversation was interrupted by Sinestro's return. Beside him walked Arin Sur and Soranik, their expressions composed but eyes shimmering with barely contained grief.
"Centurion Dey," Sinestro acknowledged, his tone cooler than it had been with Hal. "I see you've introduced yourself to my new protégé."
"Just welcoming him to the neighborhood," Dey replied with a casual ease that seemed to irritate Sinestro slightly. "Giving him the 'local color' briefing that official channels tend to skip."
"Indeed." Sinestro's expression suggested he had his doubts about the value of such information. He turned to Hal. "Jordan, may I present Arin Sur of Ungara, sister of Abin Sur, and our daughter, Soranik Natu."
Hal bowed slightly, unsure of the proper protocol but hoping the gesture conveyed respect. "I'm deeply sorry for your loss," he said, the words feeling inadequate for the magnitude of their grief. "I only knew Abin Sur for a few moments, but even in that brief time, I could sense his extraordinary character."
Arin Sur studied him with penetrating eyes that reminded Hal eerily of her brother's. Though she shared Abin Sur's purple skin and certain facial features, her presence was distinct—scholarly rather than commanding, thoughtful rather than decisive.
"My brother had an exceptional ability to judge character," she said finally, her voice rich and melodic despite the sorrow it carried. "If he chose you to bear his ring, Harold Jordan, then he saw something worthy in you—perhaps something you do not yet see in yourself."
"I hope to prove worthy of his trust," Hal replied honestly. "Though I'm still not entirely sure why he chose me."
"The ring chooses, based on qualities planted within it by the Guardians," Arin corrected gently. "But Abin had the wisdom to trust its judgment, even at the end." Her gaze grew distant. "He spoke of Earth sometimes, you know. He found your species fascinating—so young in cosmic terms, yet so full of potential. He believed humans might one day play a crucial role in galactic affairs."
Soranik, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. "Uncle Abin also believed in questioning tradition when necessary." Her voice carried both the formality of her Ungaran heritage and a slight accent from Korugar, her adoptive home. "He taught that blind obedience to any system, even one as ancient as the Corps, carried its own dangers."
Hal noticed Sinestro's expression tighten almost imperceptibly at these words, suggesting this might be a point of contention between father and daughter.
"Soranik has inherited her uncle's tendency toward independent thought," Sinestro said, his tone caught between pride and disapproval. "She chose medicine over the Corps, despite possessing qualities that would have made her an exceptional Lantern."
"Korugar needed surgeons more than it needed another Green Lantern," Soranik replied, the well-worn quality of her response suggesting this was an old disagreement. "I heal one life at a time, rather than enforcing order across entire systems."
"Both paths have honor," Arin interjected diplomatically, placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "As Abin always said, service takes many forms."
An awkward silence threatened to descend, but was broken by Rhomann Dey clearing his throat.
"Speaking of service," he said, "I heard from Corps headquarters that we might be facing increased Kree activity in our sector. Their latest push against the Nova Empire's outer colonies has brought their forces uncomfortably close to Earth's solar system."
"The Nova Corps' conflicts with the Kree are their own affair," Sinestro said dismissively. "Unless their activities directly threaten inhabited worlds within Sector 2814, it remains outside Green Lantern jurisdiction."
"That strict division didn't seem to bother Abin Sur when three Kree warships strayed into the Proxima system last cycle," Dey countered, a hint of challenge in his voice. "His intervention probably saved a few thousand lives."
Hal sensed an underlying tension between the two that went beyond professional disagreement—something personal, perhaps related to their different approaches to peacekeeping.
Before the conversation could grow more heated, a resonant tone echoed through the chamber, silencing all conversation. The stars and galaxies displayed on the dome's interior shifted, focusing on a specific region of space that Hal assumed must be Abin Sur's home sector.
"The ceremony is beginning," Arin said softly, her personal disagreements forgotten in the face of her brother's memorial. "We should take our places."
The vast chamber reorganized itself with practiced efficiency, the assembled Lanterns forming concentric circles around Abin Sur's bier. Hal found himself guided to a position in the innermost circle alongside Sinestro, Arin, and Soranik—a place of honor that emphasized his status as Abin Sur's chosen successor. Rhomann Dey, along with several other non-Corps dignitaries representing various intergalactic organizations, took positions in an adjacent section.
A Guardian—Ganthet, Hal recognized from the earlier meeting—appeared on a platform near Abin Sur's body. Unlike the formal, almost cold demeanor the Guardians had displayed in the evaluation chamber, Ganthet's expression showed genuine emotion as he surveyed the assembled Lanterns.
"We gather to honor Abin Sur of Ungara," Ganthet began, his voice carrying effortlessly throughout the vast space. "For one hundred and forty-three cycles, he wielded the green light of will as Green Lantern of Sector 2814. Today, we commend his spirit to the Source from which all life emerges and to which all must eventually return."
A soft glow surrounded Abin Sur's body as Ganthet continued, recounting achievements and acts of heroism that spanned centuries. Hal listened with growing amazement, beginning to understand the magnitude of the legacy he was expected to continue. Abin Sur had negotiated peace between worlds at war, contained cosmic threats, discovered new civilizations, and saved countless lives across his sector.
"He was the first to establish diplomatic relations with the Thanagarian Empire," Ganthet recalled, "preventing a war that might have claimed billions of lives. He discovered the sentient nebula of Sector 563, recognizing its consciousness when others perceived only cosmic gas. During the Korugaran Crisis, he personally evacuated eighteen thousand civilians from the path of a solar flare, making three hundred consecutive trips without rest."
Each accomplishment added to the weight Hal felt settling on his shoulders. Not only was he expected to patrol an entire sector of space, but he was following someone whose service had been extraordinary even by the Corps' standards.
"Abin Sur's talents extended beyond combat and crisis management," Ganthet continued. "He was a scholar who contributed seven hundred and twelve entries to the Book of Oa, documenting previously unknown species, phenomena, and historical events. He was a teacher who trained thirty-eight Lanterns, many of whom serve with distinction to this day." Ganthet's gaze fell briefly on Sinestro. "And he was a friend who understood that true strength comes not from power alone, but from wisdom, compassion, and the courage to question even that which seems beyond question."
From the corner of his eye, Hal noticed Sinestro's posture stiffen slightly at these words, though his expression remained solemn.
"But it was not merely his actions that distinguished Abin Sur," Ganthet continued. "It was his unwavering commitment to justice tempered with compassion, his willingness to question in pursuit of deeper truth, and his understanding that fear is not the enemy of will but its necessary companion."
Beside Hal, Arin Sur stood with quiet dignity, her grief controlled but visible in the tension around her eyes. Soranik had moved closer to her mother, their hands clasped in shared sorrow. Despite their composed exteriors, Hal could sense the deep personal loss beneath the formal ceremony—this wasn't just a fallen Corps member to them, but a brother, an uncle, a beloved family member.
"In his final act, Abin Sur demonstrated the wisdom for which he was known throughout the Corps. Rather than cling to his ring until death claimed him, he ensured his sector would not be left unprotected." Ganthet's gaze found Hal in the crowd. "His ring has chosen a successor from Earth, a world previously unrepresented in our ranks. Harold Jordan stands among us now, entrusted with continuing the work Abin Sur began."
All eyes turned toward Hal, the attention of thousands of alien beings suddenly focused on him. He forced himself to stand straighter, feeling the weight of expectation pressing down on him like physical gravity. Beside him, he sensed Arin studying him with renewed interest, perhaps looking for qualities in him that had prompted her brother's ring to make its choice.
"As is our tradition," Ganthet said, "we now commit Abin Sur's essence to the Central Battery, where his willpower will strengthen all who follow. His memory will live on in the light we all serve."
Arin stepped forward, approaching her brother's body. From within her robes, she withdrew a small crystal that glowed with soft purple light. "A memory crystal," Sinestro explained quietly to Hal. "Containing personal moments from Abin's life on Ungara. His childhood, his family gatherings, moments of joy and peace away from his duties as a Lantern."
She placed the crystal gently on her brother's chest, her hand lingering for a moment in a final farewell. "Journey well, brother," she said, her voice steady despite the tears that now fell freely. "May the light guide you home."
Soranik followed, placing a small medallion beside the crystal. "A Korugaran healing amulet," Sinestro explained. "Symbolic. Healing for his spirit."
After the family had said their goodbyes, Abin Sur's body began to rise, floating gently toward the apex of the dome where a beam of intense emerald light awaited. As it made contact, his physical form dissolved into pure energy that flowed upward into what Hal now realized was a direct connection to the massive Central Power Battery he had seen earlier.
The entire corps raised their rings in unison, thousands of points of green light illuminating the chamber. Hal, following Sinestro's subtle gestural prompt, did the same.
Together, the assembled Lanterns recited words that Hal had first spoken when the Ring chose him, but now in a completely different context that made his hearth race with meaning:
"In brightest day, in blackest night, No evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil's might, Beware my power... Green Lantern's light!"
As the final words echoed through the chamber, the emerald energy that had been Abin Sur flared brilliantly before merging completely with the flow of power that connected to every ring in the Corps. Hal felt a subtle pulse through his own ring, a momentary connection to something vast and ancient—and, surprisingly, a fleeting impression of Abin Sur himself, as if some essence of the fallen Lantern had touched his consciousness briefly through the ring's connection.
For a moment, Hal thought he heard words—not audibly, but somehow impressed directly onto his mind: "Be worthy of the light, Jordan. But never stop questioning its source."
The vision, if that's what it was, faded as quickly as it had come, leaving Hal wondering if he had imagined it. He glanced at Sinestro, but the senior Lantern gave no indication of having experienced anything unusual.
The formal part of the ceremony concluded, but the gathered beings did not immediately disperse. Instead, the atmosphere in the chamber shifted subtly as the memorial transitioned into something like a wake—a celebration of Abin Sur's life rather than a mourning of his death.
Lanterns formed small groups, sharing stories of missions with Abin Sur, lessons he had taught, lives he had saved. Some laughed as they recalled lighter moments, while others listened solemnly to tales of heroism and sacrifice. Hal noticed that Rhomann Dey had joined a circle of Nova Corps officers and Green Lanterns who appeared to be trading stories about joint operations.
Arin and Soranik remained near the now-empty platform where Abin Sur's body had lain, receiving condolences from a steady stream of Corps members and dignitaries. Sinestro stood beside them, his usual intensity subdued by the solemnity of the occasion, one hand resting supportively on his wife's shoulder.
Uncertain of his place in these proceedings, Hal found himself drifting to the edge of the gathering, feeling like an intruder in a family memorial. He approached the memorial wall where Abin Sur's name and symbol had been inscribed among thousands of others, each representing a Lantern who had fallen in service. The wall stretched farther than he could see, disappearing into shadow at the edges of the vast chamber—a sobering reminder of the dangers of the path he had just begun.
"It is a weight, is it not?" a voice said from just behind him. Hal turned to find Soranik had approached quietly. "To see so many who died in service to the Corps."
"I was just thinking that," Hal admitted. "Every name here represents someone who thought the cause was worth dying for."
"My father would say it represents the price of order in an entropic universe," Soranik replied, her tone suggesting she didn't fully share this perspective. "Uncle Abin had a more nuanced view. He believed sacrifice was sometimes necessary, but questioned whether the Corps' methods always justified the cost."
Hal studied her, curious about this perspective that seemed at odds with the reverent tone most Lanterns used when discussing the Corps. "You didn't want to follow in your father's footsteps? Or your uncle's?"
A complex emotion passed across Soranik's features. "I chose a different path. On Korugar, where my father maintains order through... efficient methods, I work to heal individual suffering. Some would call it a small contribution compared to his grand designs, but I believe each life has value beyond its utility to society."
There was something in her tone—a carefully controlled criticism that suggested deeper disagreements with her father's approach. Before Hal could inquire further, they were joined by Arin Sur, who had evidently concluded her discussions with the stream of well-wishers.
"My daughter has always had her own mind," Arin said, a hint of pride in her voice despite her obvious grief. "A quality she shares with her uncle, and with her father, though Thaal might not admit the similarity." She turned her attention fully to Hal. "Harold Jordan, I would speak with you privately before you begin your training."
"Of course," Hal replied, slightly surprised by the formal request.
Arin led him to a quieter corner of the chamber, away from the main gathering. When she spoke, her voice was low, meant only for his ears. "My brother's death was not an accident. Nor was it a random act of violence."
Hal's attention sharpened. "What do you mean?"
"In his final communication to me, Abin expressed concerns about a discovery he had made—something connected to ancient events that the Guardians prefer to keep buried." Arin's eyes, so similar to her brother's, held Hal's gaze intently. "He mentioned prophecies, warnings from an entity called the 'Butcher,' and something called the 'Blackest Night.'"
Hal recognized elements of what Abin Sur had told him during their brief encounter. "He mentioned 'the Five Inversions' and 'the massacre of Sector 666' to me. When I asked the Guardians about it, they dismissed it as delusions from a dying mind."
Arin's expression hardened. "My brother was many things, but delusional was not among them. His concerns were real, and his death came too conveniently after he began investigating these matters." She glanced toward where the Guardians had been during the ceremony. "Be careful whom you trust, Harold Jordan. The Corps serves noble ideals, but power corrupts, even power wielded in the name of order."
"You're suggesting the Guardians might be involved in your brother's death?" Hal asked, keeping his voice low.
"I suggest nothing," Arin replied carefully. "I merely advise caution and observation. My husband believes absolutely in the Corps and its mission. His loyalty is admirable but can sometimes blind him to institutional flaws." She hesitated, then added, "Abin trusted Thaal absolutely, as do I. But Thaal trusts the Guardians with equal fervor, and in that, he and my brother eventually diverged."
Before Hal could press for more details, Arin reached into her robes and withdrew a small data crystal, pressing it discreetly into his palm. "Abin's personal logs from his final cycles. They are encrypted—the ring will know how to access them when the time is right. Until then, keep them private, even from Thaal."
Hal closed his hand around the crystal, sensing its importance. "I will. And thank you for trusting me with this."
"I trust my brother's judgment," Arin corrected gently. "And his ring chose you. That is enough for now." She straightened, her manner shifting back to formal courtesy as she noticed Sinestro approaching.
"My husband believes in your potential," she said, loud enough for Sinestro to hear as he joined them. "That alone should tell you something of his faith in you."
"Not faith, but calculated assessment," Sinestro corrected, though his tone held affection as he regarded his wife. "Jordan shows promise, though whether that promise will be fulfilled remains to be seen."
The ceremony was concluding, with Lanterns approaching the memorial wall where Abin Sur's name and symbol were now inscribed. Many placed their rings against the wall in a gesture of respect before departing. Hal, unsure of protocol but sensing the importance of the gesture, followed their example when it was his turn, touching his ring to the wall beside Abin Sur's inscription. For a brief moment, the symbol glowed more brightly, as if recognizing the connection between its bearer and the ring Hal now wore.
"There are many formalities yet to come," Sinestro said, returning to Hal's side after bidding a temporary farewell to Arin and Soranik. "Formal presentation to the Corps, initiation rites, basic training. But first, I believe some context is required."
He led Hal through a series of corridors and chambers, eventually arriving at a balcony that overlooked the vast plaza surrounding the Central Power Battery. From this vantage point, the full scale of Oa became apparent—a world designed entirely around the Corps and its mission, with the Battery as its literal and figurative center.
"I met Abin Sur seventy-three cycles ago," Sinestro said, gazing out at the Battery. "I was newly recruited from Korugar, still learning the boundaries of what a ring could do. Abin was already respected throughout the Corps—the Lantern who had negotiated the Kalarian Truce, who had contained the Parallax Anomaly. When the Guardians paired us for a mission in the Vega system, I thought it merely a standard training assignment."
A subtle smile touched Sinestro's lips. "Instead, it became the foundation of both a professional partnership and a personal bond that would change my life. Abin saw potential in me that others missed." His voice softened almost imperceptibly. "Later, I would meet his sister, Arin Sur. We fell in love, married according to Ungaran customs. Our daughter, Soranik, is currently being raised on Korugar, training as a physician. She has her mother's compassion and her uncle's sense of justice."
He turned to face Hal directly. "So you see, Jordan, Abin Sur was more than my mentor and friend. He was family. Which makes you, as his chosen successor, my responsibility in more ways than one."
Hal absorbed this information, recognizing the personal stake Sinestro had in his training. It explained the magenta-skinned Lantern's intensity, his immediate interest in Abin Sur's replacement. This wasn't just professional duty—it was personal.
"I'm sorry for your loss," Hal offered, the words feeling inadequate but necessary. "I barely knew him, but in those few moments... I sensed he was extraordinary."
"He was," Sinestro confirmed, a hint of genuine grief breaking through his composed exterior. "And his final choice—you—is something I intend to understand fully." His appraising gaze swept over Hal once more. "But understanding must wait. Training begins immediately. Follow me."
As they left the contemplative quiet of the balcony, Hal felt the data crystal Arin had given him pressing against his palm. He quickly secured it in a pocket of his uniform, the material adapting to conceal the object completely. Whatever secrets Abin Sur had uncovered, whatever had led to his death, Hal was now part of that unfolding mystery. And despite the dangers it might entail, he couldn't deny a surge of determination to uncover the truth—not just for his own sake, but for Abin Sur, who had chosen him as the bearer of both his ring and, perhaps, his final mission.