In the command center miles away, Carol, Thomas, and the Jordans watched in horror as the live news footage showed the battle unfolding. Coast City—their home, Hal's home—was being systematically demolished by beings of incomprehensible power.
"Those four are some of the most powerful heroes on the planet," Thomas said, his voice hollow. "And they're barely holding their own."
Jessica Jordan's face was ashen, her hands gripping the edge of the console so tightly her knuckles had turned white. "They keep asking for Hal... for this 'Green Lantern.' What does it mean?"
Jim paced behind them, his attorney's composure completely abandoned. "If these things took Hal, if they did something to him—"
"They didn't," Carol interrupted, her eyes fixed on a new development on the screen. "Look."
The battle had reached a crescendo, with Atrocitus unleashing an even more powerful attack—a massive wave of red energy that expanded outward like a tsunami, threatening to engulf the entire downtown area. Superman braced himself directly in its path, arms outstretched as if to physically halt the energy wave. Tony's armor reconfigured to project its most powerful shield. Barry began spinning his arms to create counter-vortexes. Arthur summoned the largest wave yet from the harbor.
The four heroes stood their ground, a last line of defense for the city they had each sworn to protect in their own way. Their powers combined into a final desperate stand—water, lightning, repulsor energy, and Kryptonian might—merging into a barrier of determination against the crimson tide of rage.
It wasn't enough. The red wave pushed inexorably forward, the heroes' resistance crumbling against its overwhelming force. Superman was driven to his knees, his invulnerability tested to its limits. Iron Man's armor began to crack, warning systems flashing critical failures across Tony's HUD. Barry's lightning aura flickered as exhaustion threatened to overcome him. Arthur's massive water wall began to boil away into steam where it contacted the rage energy.
And then, from high above, a new light appeared in the sky—not red, but emerald green, brilliant and pure against the crimson devastation below. It descended at incredible speed, resolving into a human figure surrounded by a verdant aura that seemed to push back against the red energy by its very nature.
The newcomer thrust both hands forward, and a massive green shield materialized between Atrocitus's attack and the city. The red energy wave crashed against it with cataclysmic force, but the shield held, the two opposing colors—red and green—creating a spectacular light show where they met and canceled each other out.
Atrocitus's eyes narrowed as he recognized the energy signature. His massive frame tensed, scarred red skin pulling tight across alien musculature as rage built within him like a physical force. "The human," he growled, his voice a bass rumble that carried across the battlefield. "The one who bears Abin Sur's ring."
The shield wavered slightly as the sustained assault from Atrocitus's ring battered against it. Behind the translucent emerald barrier, Hal Jordan's face showed the strain of maintaining such a large construct. Sweat beaded on his forehead beneath the domino mask, his jaw clenched with effort as he poured more willpower into the shield.
"I can feel your struggle, human," Atrocitus called out, malicious satisfaction in his tone. "Your connection to the green light is weak. Untrained. Unworthy."
He increased the intensity of his attack, red energy surging in waves that hammered against Hal's shield with increasing force. Cracks began to form in the emerald surface, spiderweb patterns of fracture lines spreading outward from the impact points.
"You should never have interfered on Korugar," Atrocitus continued, advancing toward the shield. "You and Sinestro robbed me of my rightful vengeance. Now I will take both your ring and your life as trophies."
Hal felt the shield beginning to fail, his concentration faltering under the relentless assault. The ring on his finger seemed to grow heavier, pulsing with energy that begged for release but remained frustratingly beyond his full control. He had only possessed it for days, with barely enough training to grasp the fundamentals of its power. Against an opponent like Atrocitus, with centuries of rage-fueled experience, he was dangerously outmatched.
"Fall back, Jordan!" Tony called through the comms, his damaged armor struggling to maintain flight as he supported an equally wounded Flash. "You can't take him alone!"
Arthur's voice joined in, uncharacteristically serious. "He's right, Lantern. We need to regroup. That thing's power level is off the charts."
Superman had managed to recover from the earlier assault, hovering protectively in front of a group of civilians as he called out to Hal. "We'll cover your retreat. Whatever that shield is, it won't hold much longer!"
Their concern was justified. The shield was now more fracture than substance, the emerald light flickering as Hal's concentration wavered. Behind him, the four heroes had positioned themselves strategically to protect the remaining civilians in the area, but they were all showing signs of the brutal battle—Superman with a rare trickle of blood from a cut above his eye, Iron Man's armor sparking with damage, Flash leaning on Aquaman for support, Arthur himself bearing a deep gash across his shoulder.
"No retreat," Hal replied, his voice strained but determined. "This is my sector. My city." He pushed harder, pouring more willpower into the failing shield. "And he's here for me."
The effort cost him dearly. A particularly powerful surge of red energy slammed into the shield, sending shockwaves reverberating back through Hal's construct. The feedback hit him like a physical blow, driving him backward through the air as his shield finally shattered into thousands of dissipating emerald fragments.
Atrocitus didn't waste the opening. With frightening speed for his massive size, he launched himself forward, a crimson battering ram construct forming around his fist as he drove it directly into Hal's chest. The impact sent the Green Lantern hurtling downward, crashing through the roof of an abandoned office building and disappearing inside.
"HAL!" Carol's voice cried out from the command center as they watched the green light vanish from their monitors.
For a moment, silence fell across the battlefield. The four heroes tensed, ready to engage Atrocitus directly, but the Red Lantern's attention remained fixed on the building where Hal had crashed. A cruel smile spread across his scarred face as he hovered above the impact site, waiting.
"Face me, human," he called down. "Show me if Abin Sur chosen was worthy or merely convenient."
Inside the ruined building, Hal lay amid broken concrete and twisted rebar, momentarily stunned by the ferocity of the attack. Pain radiated through his body—ribs cracked, shoulder dislocated, a warm trickle of blood running from his temple down the side of his face. The ring pulsed anxiously on his finger, urging him to rise, to fight, to fulfill the oath he had sworn.
But fear held him paralyzed. Not just fear of Atrocitus and his overwhelming power, but a deeper, more primal fear that had lurked within Hal Jordan since childhood. The fear of failure. The fear of death. The fear of burning.
As his consciousness wavered, the present moment began to blur with memory—the cracked ceiling above him transforming into the blue California sky of twenty-two years ago. The dust and debris around him became the airfield where his childhood had ended in flames and screaming.
The sound of metal tearing, the horrified gasps of the crowd. His father trapped in the cockpit, looking out at his family through a cracked canopy.
"DAD!" seven-year-old Hal screamed, breaking free from Jim's grasp and lunging forward. "DAD! GET OUT! PLEASE!"
Inside the cockpit, Martin Jordan was fighting with the jammed canopy release. The impact had warped the frame, and the emergency release mechanism had failed. He could see his family just beyond the firefighters' line, could see Hal struggling to reach him, Jessica holding baby Jack, Jim trying to restrain his brother.
He needed to get to them. With renewed determination, Martin braced himself against the cockpit frame and pushed with all his strength against the canopy. It groaned, then lifted slightly—enough to create a gap. Freedom was just moments away.
That's when the aviation fuel reached the hot engine components.
The explosion wasn't Hollywood spectacular—there was no massive fireball rising into the sky. Instead, it was a sharp, concussive blast followed by intense, focused flames that engulfed the cockpit almost instantly.
One moment Martin Jordan was there, alive, looking at his family. The next, he was consumed by chemical fire that burned so hot it seemed to distort the very air around the cockpit.
"No," Hal whispered, fighting against the memory that had become a waking nightmare. He could smell burning fuel, feel the heat of flames that existed only in his mind. "Not now. Not again."
Above, Atrocitus descended slowly through the hole in the ceiling, his massive form silhouetted against the night sky as he searched for his prey. Red light pulsed around him, casting grotesque shadows across the ruined office space.
"I can smell your fear, human," he called, his voice echoing through the destroyed building. "It leaks from you like blood from a wound. This is why you fail—why all Green Lanterns eventually fail. Will is nothing against rage. Fear always overcomes courage in the end."
Hal struggled to his feet, using a broken support column for balance as he faced the approaching Red Lantern. His uniform was torn, the green and black fabric showing scorch marks where Atrocitus's attack had connected. But the emblem on his chest still glowed defiantly, a beacon of emerald light in the darkness.
"My father," Hal said, his voice steadier than he felt, "faced death without fear. I watched him die when I was seven years old. Watched him burn alive in a cockpit not much different from the ones I fly now." He straightened, ignoring the pain that lanced through his ribs. "You think I don't know fear, Atrocitus? I live with it every day. Every time I step into a cockpit. Every time I push the envelope of what's possible."
The Red Lantern paused, perhaps surprised by this unexpected confession. "Then you admit your weakness. The ring chose poorly."
"No," Hal countered, his ring beginning to glow brighter as something shifted within him. "The ring didn't choose me because I'm fearless. It chose me because I face my fear every day and fly anyway." Understanding dawned in his eyes, a revelation born of crisis. "That's what you don't understand about willpower. It's not the absence of fear—it's the decision to act despite it."
Atrocitus snarled, patience exhausted. "Enough philosophy, human. Your time ends now." His ring flared as he summoned a massive construct—a multi-bladed axe trailing crimson energy that seemed to howl with rage as it arced toward Hal's head.
Time seemed to slow for Hal as the deadly weapon descended. In that stretched moment, he saw his father's face again—not consumed by flames, but in the final moment before the explosion. The look of love, of pride, of peace in the face of inevitable death. Martin Jordan had made his choice in that moment—to look at his family one last time rather than futilely struggle against his fate.
But Hal's fate wasn't sealed. Not yet. The choice before him wasn't how to die, but how to live.
The ring pulsed on his finger, responding to the surge of clarity and determination that cut through his fear like sunlight through fog. Energy flowed through him, no longer feeling alien but like an extension of himself—of his will made manifest.
"In brightest day," Hal whispered, the words rising unbidden to his lips as he raised his ring hand.
Atrocitus's axe descended, its crimson edge a blur of destructive potential.
"In blackest night," Hal continued, his voice growing stronger as a green aura began to form around him.
The axe struck an emerald barrier that materialized inches from Hal's face, the impact sending shockwaves through the building that shattered every remaining window.
"No evil shall escape my sight," Hal's voice rose to a shout as he pushed back against Atrocitus's construct, his own willpower surging through the ring in ways he hadn't been able to access before.
Atrocitus growled in surprise as his axe construct began to crack under the pressure of Hal's counterattack. He poured more rage into his ring, the crimson energy around him intensifying until it seemed to fill the entire building with bloody light.
"Let those who worship evil's might," Hal continued, rising from the floor as his green aura expanded, pushing back the red energy that had threatened to overwhelm him.
The two opposing forces—rage and will, red and green—collided with cataclysmic force in the confined space, tearing apart what remained of the building's structure. Concrete disintegrated, steel beams twisted like paper, and the entire edifice began to collapse around them.
Neither combatant noticed. Their battle had transcended physical space, becoming a direct confrontation between opposing aspects of the emotional spectrum. Where their energies met, reality itself seemed to warp and distort, unable to contain the cosmic forces being channeled through mortal vessels.
"Beware my power," Hal's voice thundered as he thrust both hands forward, his entire body now burning with emerald fire that pushed against the crimson inferno of Atrocitus's rage. His eyes, visible behind the domino mask, glowed with the same green energy, his connection to the ring reaching depths he hadn't previously accessed.
Atrocitus fell back a step, genuine surprise crossing his scarred features as he felt his advantage slipping. "Impossible," he snarled. "No novice has ever—"
"GREEN LANTERN'S LIGHT!" Hal roared, completing the oath that was both promise and power source.
The emerald energy exploded outward in a perfect sphere, overwhelming Atrocitus's red aura and sending the massive alien crashing backward through several walls before he finally slammed into the street outside. The force of the impact created a crater in the asphalt, the Red Lantern momentarily stunned by the unexpected reversal.
Hal emerged from the collapsing building, hovering in midair as debris rained down harmlessly around him. His uniform had repaired itself, the tears and scorch marks gone, the green sections glowing more vibrantly than before. His posture had changed too—no longer uncertain or defensive, but balanced and assured, a warrior who had found his center in the midst of battle.
Superman, Iron Man, Flash, and Aquaman watched in amazement as Hal descended to hover directly across from the recovering Atrocitus. The red-skinned alien rose from the crater, his expression a mixture of rage and newfound caution.
"You've found your connection to the ring," Atrocitus acknowledged, brushing debris from his massive shoulders. "Perhaps there is something to Abin Sur's choice after all."
"More than you know," Hal replied, his voice steady now, the fear still present but no longer controlling him. "This is your last warning, Atrocitus. You and your Corps are in direct violation of Treaty Seven of the Guardians' Compact. Sector 2814 is under my protection, and I am ordering you to withdraw immediately."
Atrocitus's laugh was a sound of pure malevolence. "The fledgling Lantern quotes laws he barely understands." His massive form tensed, the red aura around him intensifying again. "You have no conception of what you face, Jordan. No understanding of the power you've stumbled into, or the cosmic war you've unwittingly joined."
"Maybe not," Hal conceded, his own green aura brightening in response. "But I understand enough to know that threatening my city and my planet was your first mistake." His ring glowed brighter as he gestured to the heroes gathered behind him. "And picking a fight with Earth's defenders was your second."
The four heroes moved to flank Hal, forming a united front against the Red Lanterns who had now regrouped around their leader. Superman's eyes glowed with the threat of heat vision, Iron Man's remaining functional repulsors hummed with charging energy, Flash's lightning crackled around his form despite his exhaustion, and Aquaman's trident gleamed with power drawn from the nearby harbor.
Razer leaned closer to Atrocitus, speaking in a tense undertone. "We are not equipped to engage a Green Lantern supported by indigenous champions of this caliber. The Guardians will send reinforcements once they detect this confrontation."
Atrocitus considered this, his rage visibly warring with tactical prudence. After a tense moment, he raised his ring again—not to attack, but in a gesture that summoned his scattered Corps members back to his side.
"This encounter is merely the beginning, Jordan," he announced. "What began in Sector 666 billions of years ago approaches its conclusion. The red light of rage has returned to the universe, and neither you nor your Guardians can stop what comes next." His gaze swept across the assembled heroes. "Enjoy your reprieve, champions of Earth. When the Blackest Night falls, your world will be among the first to drown in darkness."
With those ominous words, Atrocitus thrust his ring skyward. A column of red energy erupted around the five Red Lanterns, and when it dissipated seconds later, they were gone—streaking away from Earth as five diminishing crimson points of light.
In the sudden silence that followed, the adrenaline that had sustained Hal throughout the confrontation began to ebb. The pain he'd been suppressing crashed back in waves – his cracked ribs protesting with each breath, his dislocated shoulder hanging at an awkward angle, the gash on his temple still seeping blood down the side of his face. As the green aura around him dimmed slightly, he swayed, struggling to maintain his hover.
"Whoa there, Lantern," Barry said, appearing at his side in a flash of lightning, steadying him despite his own injuries. "Easy does it."
Hal grimaced, allowing himself to descend to the plaza where the other heroes had gathered. His boots touched down heavily on the cracked concrete, legs nearly buckling as he fought to remain standing. "I'm fine," he insisted, though the pallor beneath his mask suggested otherwise.
"Yeah, and I'm the tooth fairy," Tony remarked, his armor whining with damage as he landed nearby. His faceplate retracted, revealing genuine concern beneath the sarcasm. "JARVIS, medical scan."
"Scanning," the AI responded promptly. "Subject has three cracked ribs on the left side, right shoulder dislocated approximately 30 degrees posterior, moderate concussion, and multiple lacerations and contusions. Recommend immediate medical attention."
"Your robot's a doctor too?" Hal managed through gritted teeth, attempting to straighten up but wincing visibly at the movement.
"Among his many talents," Tony confirmed. "That shoulder needs to be reset before the muscles spasm." He looked to Superman. "You've probably got the steadiest hands here, Boy Scout."
Clark approached carefully, his expression compassionate. "I've done this before," he said quietly. "It's going to hurt, but only for a moment."
"Just do it," Hal replied, bracing himself.
"On three," Superman said, positioning his hands with clinical precision. "One—"
Without completing the count, he executed a swift, precise movement. There was an audible pop as the joint relocated, accompanied by Hal's sharp intake of breath. The pain was blinding for an instant, then settled into a more manageable throb as the joint settled back into position.
"—two, three," Clark finished with a small apologetic smile. "The anticipation makes it worse."
"Old field medic trick," Arthur noted, looking impressed. "Where'd the last son of Krypton learn that?"
"Kansas farm," Clark replied simply. "Bulls don't always cooperate when you're trying to help them."
Hal rotated his shoulder carefully, testing the range of motion. "Thanks," he said, genuine gratitude in his voice. He looked around at the devastated plaza, his expression darkening as he took in the full extent of the destruction. "We need to help these people. There are still civilians trapped in some of these buildings."
The ring pulsed on his finger, projecting a holographic display that highlighted areas of the city where life signs were detected among the rubble. Despite his own injuries, Hal found his focus shifting to those in greater danger – a response so ingrained he barely recognized it as the same instinct that had made him an exceptional test pilot.
"My ring can detect survivors," he explained, projecting the data for the others to see. "There are clusters in these three locations – a collapsed apartment building to the northeast, the parking structure by the harbor, and what looks like a school bus under debris near the central plaza."
"I've got the bus," Clark said immediately, already rising into the air.
"Parking structure's mine," Arthur declared. "Water damage weakened the lower levels – I can sense the flow patterns. I'll stabilize it while we get people out."
Barry, despite his exhaustion, straightened up. "I can do search and rescue in the apartment building – get to people faster than conventional teams."
"And I'll coordinate with emergency services," Tony added, his armor reconfiguring to divert remaining power to communication systems. "JARVIS, connect to Coast City emergency frequencies. Let's establish a command structure."
Hal found himself momentarily stunned by how quickly they'd fallen into coordinated action, despite having just met under the most extreme circumstances. There was no posturing, no argument over authority – just immediate focus on saving lives.
"Your ribs need stabilizing," Tony said, turning back to Hal. "That concussion needs monitoring too."
"The ring," Hal replied, holding up his hand. "It's already working on it." Indeed, the emerald energy had formed a subtle support structure around his torso, cushioning the broken ribs and gradually accelerating the healing process. "It's not instant, but it helps."
As the other heroes dispersed to their assigned tasks, Hal focused on creating constructs to stabilize damaged buildings that threatened to collapse further. He found the process remarkably intuitive now – the ring responding to his thoughts with a fluidity that would have seemed impossible hours earlier. Each green support beam, emergency exit, or protective shield formed with increasing precision, the pain of his injuries fading to the background as he worked.
Emergency vehicles began arriving in greater numbers, their sirens creating a chaotic symphony that filled the devastated downtown. Hal directed teams to the locations his ring had identified, creating glowing green pathways through the rubble to guide rescue workers to trapped civilians.
He passed Barry countless times, the speedster appearing and disappearing in streaks of lightning as he phased through debris to reach survivors, carefully extracting them and delivering them to medical personnel. At the harbor, Arthur had summoned massive columns of water that he'd frozen into supporting pillars, holding up the compromised parking structure while people evacuated. Above them all, Superman flew constant reconnaissance, using his vision powers to identify new dangers and his strength to clear the heaviest debris.
Tony had established himself at an emergency command post, his armor's advanced systems integrating with Coast City's emergency response networks. The technological genius was directing resources with remarkable efficiency, prioritizing efforts where they would save the most lives while simultaneously documenting everything for future analysis.
As Hal created a bridge across a collapsed section of street for evacuees, a sudden thought struck him with devastating force – his family. His mother, Jim, Jack, they would have seen this on the news. Carol and Thomas too. They had no idea what had happened to him, that he was now something... different.
The green construct bridge wavered momentarily as his concentration faltered, then reinforced as he poured more willpower into it. He couldn't leave yet – not while people still needed help. But the knowledge that his family was watching, worrying, perhaps thinking he was among the casualties, gnawed at him.