Kael Varn sat on a crate in the cargo bay of Razor's Edge, staring at the ring on his finger like it was a live grenade. The green glow pulsed faintly, matching the rhythm of his heartbeat, and every time he moved his hand, it seemed to hum with a life of its own. The dead Lantern's body lay nearby, covered with a tarp from the ship's supply locker. Kael hadn't known what else to do space burials weren't exactly in his skill set, and he wasn't about to toss an alien hero out the airlock.
The ship's engines rumbled softly, idling in the dead zone where he'd jumped to escape the Crimson Blades. The nav computer showed nothing but empty space for light-years, a void so quiet it felt like the universe was holding its breath. Kael wasn't fooled. Trouble had a way of finding him, and with this ring, he figured it was already on its way.
"Okay, magic jewelry," he said, holding up his hand. "You picked me. Now what?"
The ring didn't answer, but a faint warmth spread through his palm, like a nudge from an old friend. Kael frowned, flexing his fingers. He'd seen what the Lantern had done glowing armor, a pulse that shook the stars. He didn't feel like that. He felt like a guy who'd just dodged a pirate ambush and was way out of his depth.
"Fine. Let's try something." He pointed at a crate across the bay, picturing it moving. Nothing happened. He squinted harder, clenching his fist. "Come on, float or... explode or something."
The ring flared, and a wobbly green tendril shot out, wrapping around the crate. It lifted an inch off the floor before crashing back down, spilling tools everywhere. Kael winced. "Great. I'm a galactic janitor."
He stood, pacing the bay. The ring had called him "a bearer of great willpower," but Kael didn't buy it. Willpower was for heroes, for people who ran toward danger instead of away from it. He'd spent his life dodging guild enforcers, pirate traps, and anyone who asked too many questions. Sure, he'd pulled some crazy stunts flying through asteroid storms, outrunning bounty hunters but that was survival, not courage.
The Lantern's last words echoed in his head: The ring does not err. Kael snorted. "Yeah, well, maybe it's got a glitch."
A low chime interrupted his thoughts, coming from the cockpit. He jogged to the controls, sliding into the pilot's seat. The scanner was picking up a signal faint, coded, and definitely not human. Kael's gut twisted. The Crimson Blades hadn't followed him into hyperspace, but that didn't mean they couldn't track him. Or maybe it was something else, something tied to the ring.
He tapped the console, decrypting the signal with a trick he'd picked up from a smuggler years ago. The message unfolded in fragments: Oa... distress... Central Battery compromised... all Lanterns, report...
"Oa?" Kael muttered. The name rang a bell something from the stories about the Green Lantern Corps. Their headquarters, maybe? The rest of the message was garbled, but the word "compromised" stood out like a warning flare. He leaned back, rubbing his jaw. "So, the galaxy's favorite glowsticks are in trouble. And I'm supposed to... what? Fly in and save the day?"
The ring pulsed, brighter this time, and a holographic map flickered above his hand. Stars spun into focus, forming a path from his current position to a distant system. At its center was a planet, its name projected in green: Oa.
Kael laughed, sharp and bitter. "Oh, no. No way. I'm not flying into some cosmic cop shop with a target on my back."
But even as he said it, he knew he didn't have much choice. The pirates wanted the ring. The Lantern had died for it. And whatever was happening on Oa, it was big big enough to send a distress call across the galaxy. Kael wasn't a hero, but he wasn't stupid either. If the Corps was in trouble, hiding in a dead zone wouldn't keep him safe for long.
He punched the coordinates into the nav, muttering curses under his breath. Razor's Edge hummed as the jump drive spooled up, and Kael strapped in, glancing at the ring one last time. "You'd better be worth it," he said, and the stars blurred into hyperspace.
On Oa, the heart of the Green Lantern Corps, Lirra Syn stood in the shadow of the Central Power Battery, her telepathic senses tingling with unease. The massive emerald construct towered above her, its light bathing the chamber in a glow that should have felt like home. Instead, it felt wrong dimmer than it should be, its rhythm unsteady, like a heart skipping beats.
Lirra's mandibles clicked softly, a reflex she couldn't suppress. She was a veteran Lantern, one of the Corps' finest, with a record of battles that spanned systems. Her species, the Vryll, were telepaths, their minds sharp enough to cut through lies and strong enough to shield against fear. But today, even her discipline faltered. The Guardians' warning about the Voidveil lingered, a shadow in her thoughts.
She adjusted her ring, its green light steady against her clawed hand. Around her, other Lanterns moved through the Citadel, their voices a low hum of urgency. The distress call had gone out hours ago, after the Central Battery's sudden flicker a pulse of instability that had shaken Oa to its core. No one knew why, not even the Guardians, and that scared Lirra more than any enemy she'd faced.
"Lirra Syn," a voice called, sharp and familiar. She turned to see Toren Kade, a Lantern from the crystalline world of Zynar, striding toward her. His faceted body refracted the Battery's light, casting rainbows across the floor. "The Guardians summon you again. They're... unsettled."
"Unsettled?" Lirra's tone was dry, but her mind reached out, brushing Toren's surface thoughts. She caught fragments worry, confusion, a glimpse of the Guardians' chamber.
"That's a polite way to say they're panicking."
Toren's crystals chimed softly, his version of a laugh. "You read minds, not manners. Come. They're waiting."
Lirra followed, her boots silent on the stone. The Citadel was a marvel, its halls carved with the history of the Corps battles won, Lanterns lost, rings passed down through millennia. But today, it felt like a mausoleum, heavy with the weight of something coming undone.
The Guardians' chamber was a dome of starlight, its walls alive with constellations that shifted to reflect the universe's state. The Guardians themselves floated in a circle, their blue-robed forms radiating power and age. Lirra bowed, though her eyes never left them. She'd served long enough to know their wisdom came with blind spots.
"Lirra Syn," said Ganthet, the eldest Guardian, his voice calm but threaded with strain. "The situation has worsened. A Lantern has fallen Zorath of Sector 1138. His ring has chosen a successor, but we cannot locate them."
Lirra's mandibles stilled. A fallen Lantern was rare; a ring choosing blindly was rarer still. "And the Central Battery?" she asked, cutting to the heart of it. "The flicker was it sabotage?"
The Guardians exchanged glances, a silent debate that set Lirra's nerves on edge. Finally, Ganthet spoke. "We suspect an external force. The Voidveil's influence grows, though we do not yet understand its form. It... hungers."
"Hungers for what?" Lirra pressed, her telepathy catching a flicker of fear from the Guardians fear they hid even from themselves.
"For weakness," said another Guardian, Sayd, her voice softer but no less grave. "For doubt. For the cracks in our will. The Central Battery is our strength, but if it falters, so do we all."
Lirra's ring hummed, as if echoing the Battery's unease. "What are my orders?"
"Find the new Lantern," Ganthet said. "Guide them to Oa. Their ring is untested, their will untrained. They will need you, Lirra Syn, as will the Corps."
"And the Voidveil?" she asked, knowing the answer wouldn't be simple.
"Beware it," Sayd said. "It watches. It waits. And it will strike where we are weakest."
Lirra nodded, her mind already racing. A new Lantern, a compromised Battery, and a cosmic predator stalking the Corps she'd faced long odds before, but this felt different. Personal. The Voidveil's hunger for weakness tugged at her own doubts, the ones she buried beneath duty: the teammates she'd lost, the battles that had left scars no ring could heal.
As she left the chamber, Toren fell into step beside her. "You're troubled," he said, his crystals catching her reflection. "I don't need telepathy to see it."
Lirra's mandibles clicked. "A dead Lantern, a rogue ring, and a threat the Guardians barely understand? I'd be a fool not to be troubled."
Toren's light dimmed, a sign of concern. "You'll find the new Lantern. You always do."
She didn't answer, but her mind reached out, touching the Battery's energy. It was still there, still strong, but its pulse felt... fragile. Like a promise on the verge of breaking.
Kael's jump to Oa didn't go as planned. Razor's Edge dropped out of hyperspace in a system that looked nothing like the holographic map. Jagged planets orbited a dying star, their surfaces scarred with craters and glowing fissures. The scanner pinged wildly, picking up energy signatures that made no sense too chaotic for ships, too focused for natural phenomena.
"Great," Kael muttered, checking the nav. "Either the ring's map is busted, or I'm lost in the galaxy's armpit."
The ring pulsed, and a faint voice more feeling than words brushed his mind: Danger approaches. Focus.
Kael froze. "Okay, talking ring, that's new. Care to elaborate?"
Before it could, the scanner screamed. A ship materialized from the shadows, its spiked hull unmistakable. Crimson Blades. They'd found him, and this time, they weren't alone. Two more ships flanked the first, their weapons already charging.
"Son of a—" Kael slammed the throttle, diving toward the nearest planet's rings for cover. The pirates opened fire, red lances carving through space. Razor's Edge shuddered as a glancing hit scorched its hull, and Kael cursed, weaving through the debris.
The ring flared, and the voice came again: Will it. Fight.
"Fight?" Kael snapped. "With what? Attitude?"
But the ring didn't care. Green light erupted around him, forming a shimmering suit of armor that hugged his body like a second skin. He gasped, feeling its weight not heavy, but solid, like courage made tangible. His vision sharpened, the cockpit glowing with data only he could see: trajectories, weak points, possibilities.
"Okay," he said, grinning despite himself. "Let's dance."
He pointed at the lead pirate ship, instinct taking over. The ring responded, firing a green beam that slammed into the enemy's shields, sparking a cascade of light. The ship veered, caught off guard, but the others closed in, their weapons blazing.
Kael's mind raced, half panic, half thrill. He didn't know how to fight like a Lantern, but he knew how to fly. He spun Razor's Edge through the planet's rings, using the ice and rock as cover. The ring pulsed with every move, feeding him ideas: a shield here, a blast there. He conjured a green barrier just as a missile struck, the impact rattling his teeth but leaving the ship intact.
"Whoa," he breathed. "I could get used to this."
The pirates weren't done. The lead ship unleashed a barrage of drones, their red eyes locking onto him. Kael's grin faded. He was outnumbered, outgunned, and running on fumes. The ring was powerful, but he was still just a pilot, not a warrior.
Then the scanner pinged again not a ship, but a single signature, moving fast. Before Kael could react, a green comet streaked across the battlefield, tearing through the drones like paper. A figure emerged, their armor sleek and precise, their ring blazing with controlled fury. Alien, with mandibles and eyes that burned like stars.
"Lirra Syn," the figure said, her voice sharp over the comms. "Green Lantern of Sector 2814. Stand down, human, and let me handle this."
Kael blinked, caught between awe and annoyance. "Stand down? Lady, I'm the one they're shooting at!"
Lirra didn't answer. She raised her ring, and a wave of green constructs blades, chains, shields erupted, shredding the pirate formation. Kael watched, stunned, as she fought with a grace he couldn't hope to match. But the pirates weren't backing off. The lead ship fired a pulse of red energy, darker than before, and Lirra faltered, her constructs flickering.
Kael's ring hummed, urging him forward. He didn't think he acted. He dove Razor's Edge between Lirra and the blast, raising a clumsy green shield. The impact nearly knocked him out, but it held, barely.
Lirra's voice cut through the comms, grudgingly impressed. "Reckless. But effective."
"Thanks," Kael gasped, his vision swimming. "Now what?"
"Now," Lirra said, her ring flaring anew, "we finish this."
Together, they fought Lirra's precision and Kael's raw instinct clashing and blending. The pirates fell back, their ships battered, but the red energy lingered, a shadow that made Kael's ring tremble. When the last ship fled, Lirra turned to him, her eyes narrowing.
"You're the new Lantern," she said, not a question.
Kael shrugged, trying to play it cool despite his pounding heart. "Guess so. You here to babysit?"
Lirra's mandibles clicked. "I'm here to keep you alive. Oa needs you. The Corps needs you. And something out there the Voidveil needs you dead."
Kael swallowed, the weight of the ring heavier than ever. "No pressure, then."
Lirra's gaze softened, just a fraction. "Come with me, human. There's much you need to learn."
As Razor's Edge followed Lirra's green trail toward Oa, Kael glanced at the ring, its light steady but unyielding. He wasn't ready for this not for Lanterns, not for cosmic wars, not for whatever the Voidveil was. But the ring had chosen him, and for better or worse, he was in it now.