Before reading, I want to make a few things clear about this arc.
This arc will mainly focus on the conflict with Parallax and the other Spectrum Entities that have left the Source. It will also follow Max as he searches for his daughter and works to restart the Green Lantern Corps, which will happen fairly early in the arc.
There will be no nerfing of Max's power or anything like that.
I also want to make it clear that this is not a harem story. Max will have relationships with other women during this arc but its not a harem.
.
.
Max opened his eyes.
He was standing in a room. Warm afternoon light entered through two broad windows overlooking a city that seemed to exist only as indistinct buildings beyond the glass. The apartment itself was colourful and strangely inviting, with pale walls broken by shelves and framed pictures. A large couch occupied the centre of the living room beside mismatched chairs and a low table covered with magazines.
Wait.
Who was he?
"Max?"
A woman's voice came from behind him.
He frowned.
Max.
Yes.
His name was Max.
"Max."
He turned.
Three women sat around the living room.
The first was dark-skinned and strikingly beautiful, with long dark hair falling around her shoulders and ordinary clothes that somehow made her seem more out of place rather than less. Adara. Max recognized her almost as soon as he looked at her.
Beside her lounged a fair-skinned woman dressed in clothing that left considerably less to the imagination. She had one leg crossed over the other and wore a knowing smile.
Predator.
The third woman had olive skin, dark hair, and a loose robe wrapped comfortably around her body. Proselyte appeared far more interested in the magazine she was reading than anything happening around her.
"Yes, yes, Adara."
Max opened the refrigerator, stared at its contents without questioning why a refrigerator existed here, and pulled out a drink. He shut the door, took a sip, then turned toward the three Entities.
"We have to do something about them."
[LAUGHTER]
'Wait, where did that laughter come from?' he thought.
Max looked toward the ceiling.
Predator groaned dramatically. "Oh, here he goes again."
[LAUGHTER]
There it was again.
Proselyte lowered her magazine slightly. "Look, I think you three have this handled. I have things to do."
Adara raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"You know. Stuff."
Proselyte raised the magazine again.
Max happened to notice the cover.
It showed an enormous planet drifting alone through space beneath the headline:
HAVE YOU SEEN THE LIVING PLANET?
Proselyte was smiling behind it.
Max narrowed his eyes.
"Okay, okay. You do your own thing." He pointed toward Predator. "I just need your help."
Predator slowly lowered her feet to the floor.
"My help?"
"Yes."
She stood and approached him with a sly smile. "And what exactly are you going to do for me?"
[AUDIENCE: OOOOOOOH!]
Max closed his eyes.
"Sorry, P. Married man. You know that."
"Oh, come on."
Predator stepped closer.
Max immediately moved around the kitchen counter and placed it between them.
"This is important. Parallax and Butcher cannot leave this place."
Predator stopped following him.
"Why not?"
Max stared at her.
She shrugged. "Parallax, fine. I understand Parallax. But Butcher? He is not that bad."
"He wants to solve every inconvenience with murder."
"No, he doesn't... And why aren't you saying anything about that creep Ophidian?"
Adara frowned. "Where is Ophidian?"
Proselyte slowly lowered her magazine.
Everyone looked at her.
Proselyte sighed, rose from the couch, walked across the apartment, and opened a closet.
A gaunt man was inside, counting gold coins.
Ophidian stared at them.
He hissed.
Proselyte shut the door.
[LAUGHTER]
Max pointed toward it. "Okay. We are absolutely discussing that later."
The closet hissed again.
"But first, the plan."
He put his drink down and stepped toward the others.
"Predator will act as if she's going to join them, and when they attack, BAM, she changes sides and we push them into the prison."
Adara nodded.
Predator sighed. "Fine."
The apartment door suddenly opened.
Max froze.
Parallax walked inside.
Butcher followed him.
The audience erupted.
[CHEERING AND APPLAUSE]
Parallax stopped in the doorway and looked at everyone gathered around the kitchen.
"I knew it."
[LAUGHTER]
Max stared at him.
"Fuck."
[LAUGHTER]
Adara immediately stood. "This isn't what it looks like."
Butcher squeezed his massive frame through the doorway...
"Oh, yeah?" he growled. "Because it sounded exactly like what it looks like."
He pointed at Max.
"We want out of this place too. Why does he get to leave whenever he wants?"
His claw moved toward Adara.
"And you. You somehow convinced him to get you out as well."
Butcher leaned forward.
"Whore."
Adara's eyes narrowed.
Max slowly placed his drink down.
"Okay, first of all, don't call her that."
Parallax folded his arms.
"And second, you're both evil."
Silence.
Butcher stared at him.
Parallax stared at him.
Predator bit her lip.
Proselyte lowered the magazine again.
Parallax finally spoke.
"Because of our colour?"
Max hesitated.
"Well... yeah, but also..."
[AUDIENCE GASPS]
Max's eyes widened.
"That came out wrong."
Parallax pointed triumphantly.
"Aha!"
"Oh, fuck off."
"Aha! There it is. Finally, the real Ion reveals himself."
Parallax turned toward the imaginary audience.
"Ion is racist!"
Max rubbed his forehead. "You're not a race."
"Colourist, then."
Butcher nodded vigorously. "Colourist. Yeah. That's better."
Parallax pointed again. "Ion is a colourist!"
[SHOCKED MURMURS]
Butcher cracked his knuckles.
Max sighed.
"All right. Fuck this."
He looked at Adara and Predator.
"Get them."
Everything exploded into violence.
Predator launched herself across the couch and tackled Butcher into the wall while Adara hit Parallax from the side. Max jumped over the kitchen counter and joined them, and within seconds the apartment descended into a ridiculous brawl.
[LAUGHTER]
Butcher threw Max over the couch.
[LAUGHTER]
Predator smashed a lamp across Butcher's head.
[CHEERING]
Parallax grabbed Adara.
Max tackled him through the door.
The world flashed.
Max opened his eyes.
He was standing in the apartment again.
Warm light entered through the windows.
Max frowned.
"Wait."
"Max?"
He turned.
Three women sat in the living room.
"Max."
He stared at Adara.
"No."
Adara blinked.
"Yes?"
"No, no, no."
He looked around.
The refrigerator.
The kitchen.
The magazine.
Proselyte turned a page.
Max walked toward her and ripped the magazine from her hands.
The same enormous planet stared back at him.
HAVE YOU SEEN THE LIVING PLANET?
Max pointed at her.
"You're doing something with Ego."
"What?"
The door opened.
Parallax entered.
"I knew it."
[CHEERING AND APPLAUSE]
"OH, COME ON!"
The loop started again.
Then again.
And again.
Sometimes Max realized what was happening immediately. Sometimes he forgot everything until Parallax opened the door. Once, he tried escaping through the windows and somehow walked back into the apartment through the kitchen.
Another time, he locked the door.
Parallax emerged from the bathroom instead.
"I knew it."
[CHEERING]
Max screamed.
Another cycle ended with Butcher putting him through the dining table.
Another had Ophidian finally emerge from the closet and immediately attempt to eat Predator.
Everything reset.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Max could no longer tell how many times he had watched the same room rebuild itself around him.
Until something inside him finally snapped.
"No."
The laughter continued.
Max stood in the centre of the apartment.
"Enough."
[LAUGHTER]
His eyes began glowing.
"I said enough."
The audience laughed louder.
Emerald light erupted from his body.
The couch vanished. The kitchen disappeared beneath waves of green energy. The walls cracked apart, the windows shattered into nothing, and the door dissolved as the false world collapsed around him.
The laughter distorted.
It became slower.
Deeper.
Then stopped.
Max opened his eyes.
He stood alone in a completely empty room.
There were no windows.
No furniture.
No Entities.
Only darkness stretching around him in every direction and a faint emerald glow coming from his own body.
Max remained silent for several seconds.
"What the fuck was that?"
His voice echoed into the dark.
Max stood in the darkness for several seconds longer before finally moving.
The room was larger than it had first appeared, though there was almost nothing inside it to provide any sense of scale. Smooth black surfaces stretched beyond the faint emerald glow surrounding his body, disappearing into darkness.
He walked until he found a door.
Max stopped in front of it, stared for a moment, then opened it.
A corridor waited on the other side. It stretched farther than he could see, long and narrow, illuminated by dim lights with no visible source. Doors lined both walls at regular intervals, hundreds of them continuing into the distance.
Max stepped through, and the door behind him closed without a sound.
As he began walking, his memories slowly settled back into place.
Knull. Veridion. The Corps being slaughtered. The Vigilants turning against them.
He remembered forcing open the full power of Ion and allowing more of the Entity into the physical universe than he ever had before. He remembered Knull screaming as Hope and Will tore him apart until there was nothing left.
Then the Battery.
His body failing.
Durin carrying him.
Durin...
Max stopped walking.
Durin had died.
The memory struck harder now that the confusion was gone. He remembered enough to understand what had happened. Durin had carried him into the heart of the Battery when the Source breach became unstable.
Max lowered his head.
"Durin."
How long had he been here?
His breathing became unsteady as another thought arrived, sudden enough to push everything else aside.
Max looked along the corridor.
He was inside the Source. He knew that much. Whatever this place looked like, it was still the Source, and time did not behave properly here.
That had always been the danger.
Firehair.
Aurora.
Max's chest tightened.
"No."
He began walking faster.
How much time had passed outside? Had he missed it? After billions of years waiting, after everything he had done to reach the point where he could finally return to them, had he lost the one moment that mattered because of Knull?
He opened the nearest door.
Another empty room.
Max crossed it, opened the next door, and found another corridor. He turned around, only to discover that the previous doorway was gone.
"What the fuck?"
He opened another door.
Nothing.
Then another.
Nothing.
Another revealed only empty darkness.
His pace increased as he moved from door to door. Each one revealed another barren room, another corridor, or occasionally the same chamber he had just left, except viewed from an entirely different angle.
"Adara?"
Nothing answered.
"Jade?"
Silence.
"Proselyte?"
Nothing.
Max stopped.
Then he heard laughter.
It was soft at first, almost amused.
Max slowly turned.
Someone was walking toward him from the far end of the corridor. Yellow light spread around the figure with every step, staining the black walls gold. The silhouette looked human, but the closer it came, the more Max felt something cold settle beneath his ribs.
The figure began to speak.
"In blackest day, in brightest night,
Your deepest fears shall burn with light.
Let courage fail and hope take flight,
Burn in the power of Parallax's light!"
The yellow glow intensified.
Max's eyes widened.
"Parallax."
The figure stepped fully into view.
Max stared.
It was him.
Not as he was now, but younger. Much younger. Parallax wore Max's face, his eyes glowing yellow while the smile upon it belonged entirely to the Entity of Fear.
Parallax spread his arms.
"So? What do you think?"
Max said nothing.
Parallax grinned. "Personally, I think it's much better than your whole brightest day, blackest night oath. More dramatic. Better rhythm."
"You got out."
Parallax clapped slowly.
"Oh!"
The sound echoed through the corridor.
"The master of observation has arrived. Remarkable. Someone should give you a medal."
Max stared at him for another moment before turning away and opening the next door.
Empty.
He stepped toward another.
Parallax's expression changed immediately.
"Hey."
Max ignored him.
"I am not done talking to you."
Max opened another door.
Parallax followed.
"That is extremely rude, you know. I spend all this time arranging a proper reunion, and you just walk away."
Max opened another door.
Nothing.
Parallax tilted his head.
"Don't you want to know how much time has passed?"
Max stopped.
The corridor became very quiet.
Parallax's smile returned.
"There we are."
Max slowly looked over his shoulder as Parallax walked closer.
"Don't you want to know what happened to your precious Firehair?"
Max's eyes began glowing green.
Parallax continued.
"And Aurora?"
Max turned fully toward him.
"You..."
"No."
Parallax raised one finger.
"No, no, no. My turn."
He walked around Max with a smug expression on his face.
"I have spent enough time listening to you. Enough time locked inside this place while you strutted around the universe."
He stopped in front of Max.
"So I am going to savour this."
His smile widened.
"I want to see your reaction."
Max's hands curled into fists.
Parallax leaned closer.
"It has been more than seven hundred thousand years."
Max did not move.
For a moment, he seemed unable to understand the words.
Then his eyes widened.
"What?"
"Oh, yes."
Parallax looked delighted.
"Seven hundred thousand years. More, actually, depending on exactly where you decide to begin counting."
Max stared at him.
"That isn't possible."
"Isn't it?"
Parallax began counting on his fingers.
"If we calculate from the point you were originally trying to reach, you missed it by about four hundred years."
Max's legs gave way.
He fell to his knees, the impact echoing along the corridor.
"No."
Parallax watched him. For once, he said nothing immediately.
Max stared at the floor.
Four hundred years had passed since the point of his disappearance from Earth.
He had waited billions of years. He had watched stars die and new ones form, built the Corps, fought gods, and endured everything the universe had thrown at him while holding on to one certainty.
He would make it back.
When the moment came, he would be there for his family.
Max shook his head.
"No. No, that doesn't..."
Parallax crouched in front of him.
"You want to know the best part?"
Max slowly lifted his eyes.
Parallax smiled.
"It wouldn't have mattered anyway."
Max's face went still.
"What?"
"You spent billions of years planning to save your wife and daughter. You convinced yourself that if you reached the right moment, if you were powerful enough, prepared enough, clever enough, then everything would work out."
Parallax leaned closer.
"But they were already dead before you ever fell."
Max stopped breathing.
"Your friends failed."
"No."
"They couldn't save them."
"No."
"Firehair died."
Max shook his head harder.
"Aurora died."
"You're lying."
Parallax's smile disappeared. Amusement remained in his eyes, but his voice became almost gentle.
"Am I?"
Max stared at him.
"You know what I am."
Parallax tapped his own chest.
"You know what it feels like when I twist something, when I fabricate it."
He tilted his head.
"And you know I'm telling you the truth."
Max's mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Parallax smiled again.
"What was that old saying?"
His grin widened.
"Search your feelings. You know it to be true."
Max looked down.
The Entity was telling the truth.
Something inside him broke.
His shoulders slumped as though the strength had simply left him.
Parallax stood.
"There it is."
Max did not answer.
"They're gone."
Parallax snapped his fingers.
"Poof."
Max flinched.
"Just ash in the end. Burned to a crisp."
His voice grew crueler.
"I wonder what Aurora thought in those final moments."
Max's hands began trembling.
Parallax leaned down beside him.
"Did she call for you?"
Max closed his eyes.
"Where is my daddy?"
His breathing stopped.
Parallax smiled close to his ear.
"Do you think that's what she asked?"
Max could not answer.
The corridor around him seemed darker now, its walls disappearing beyond the weak green light surrounding his body.
Parallax straightened.
"You made me live inside a prison. Fear contained, controlled, denied. You decided I was too dangerous to be free."
Yellow light spread around him.
"So before I leave, I wanted you to understand something."
Max remained on his knees.
"I know you'll escape this place eventually. I actually want you to. The universe will be much more entertaining with you in it."
Parallax began walking away.
"But first, you should feel what I felt."
He looked back.
"Trapped inside here."
The yellow light surrounding him brightened.
"Knowing you lost everything."
Max stared at the floor.
"Knowing you failed."
Parallax's form began dissolving into yellow mist.
"And knowing there is absolutely nothing you can do to change it."
His smile was the last thing to disappear.
"I have to go, Ion. There's a multiverse out there to explore, after all."
Then he was gone.
Max remained alone.
He did not know how long he stayed there, and he could not make himself move. He simply knelt in the middle of the corridor with his head lowered while the darkness seemed to creep closer around him.
For the first time in longer than he could remember, there was nothing inside him pushing back against it. No plan forming in the back of his mind. No anger driving him forward. No stubborn certainty that, given enough time and enough power, he could somehow fix what had happened.
There was only an empty, aching hollow where hope had once been.
.
.
.
Turgon opened his eyes.
He was standing in the middle of a village.
For several seconds, he simply stared around him, trying to understand how he had gotten there. The buildings were unmistakably Oan in design, with smooth pale walls, curved roofs, open terraces, and narrow paths winding between gardens and small streams. Yet something felt wrong almost immediately.
Turgon looked up.
The sky was blue.
Not Oa's sky, filled with shifting colours, but a simple, brilliant blue scattered with soft white clouds. Beyond the village stretched forests so vast and green that they seemed to cover the horizon in every direction, their trees rising higher than anything Turgon had ever seen.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Turgon spun around.
A woman was walking toward him.
She was dark-skinned and extraordinarily beautiful, wearing a flowing blue dress that moved gently around her ankles. There was something strange about her presence, though Turgon could not explain exactly what.
"Who are you?"
The woman smiled.
Turgon instinctively looked down at himself.
Blue light caught his attention.
The ring.
Everything returned at once.
The Parliament.
The vault.
The blue ring flying toward him.
Turgon, son of Míriel.
Then the guard striking him.
"Oh, fuck."
The woman's eyebrows rose.
"Language."
Turgon stared at her, then quickly straightened. "Who are you, my lady?"
"That is better."
She stopped a few steps away.
"My name is Adara. I am the Entity of Hope."
Turgon's expression remained blank.
Then she added, "And sister to Ion."
Turgon blinked.
"Ion doesn't have a sister."
"Yes, he does."
"No, he doesn't."
Adara looked amused. "He has several siblings, actually."
Turgon stared at her.
His breathing began to quicken.
"No. No, this is... I was hit in the head. That's what this is. I'm unconscious. Or injured. Maybe I'm dying."
"Turgon."
"Perhaps the ring damaged my mind. They said ancient artefacts could..."
Adara crossed the distance between them, raised her hands, and gently placed both against his cheeks.
The panic vanished.
Not completely, but enough that Turgon could breathe again.
Warmth spread through him, carrying a feeling he had difficulty describing. Not certainty. Not blind confidence.
Simply the belief that whatever happened next, there was still a way forward.
"Listen to me," Adara said softly.
Turgon swallowed and nodded.
"Do not use the ring unless you absolutely must. It has barely any charge remaining."
"I am waiting for you in Sanctuary."
Turgon frowned. "Sanctuary?"
"Long ago, a Battery was built there. Find it."
Turgon glanced around the peaceful village. "Is this Sanctuary?"
"You must come to Sanctuary, Turgon. Find me. Restore the ring, because you are our only hope of bringing Ion back."
"And if Ion does not return," she continued, "Oa will not survive what is coming."
"I don't understand."
"You will."
The village began to fade.
Turgon reached toward her.
"Wait!"
Adara's form dissolved into blue light.
"Turgon," her voice echoed around him, "find me."
========
Turgon opened his eyes again.
This time, there was a ceiling above him.
He remained still for several seconds, trying to determine whether he was dreaming again.
The room was small and almost completely bare, with smooth grey walls and a single reinforced door. His coat and personal devices were gone, though his clothes remained otherwise untouched.
Prison.
Turgon sat up quickly.
The blue ring was still on his finger.
He stared at it as he remembered the dream.
"What have I gotten myself into?"
The door opened.
Three Oans entered.
Turgon recognized their armour immediately.
Emerald Knights.
Unlike ordinary Concord security forces, the Emerald Knights answered directly to Malgus. Their armour was dark green and silver, modelled after ancient Corps uniforms, though none possessed rings. They served as Malgus's personal guard, elite troops entrusted with the defence of Ionith's government and the most sensitive facilities under Concord control.
Turgon felt relief for the first time since waking.
Malgus.
Of course.
Malgus would understand.
One of the Knights stepped forward.
"Deputy Director Turgon."
"Yes."
"Lord Malgus wishes to see you immediately."
Turgon nodded and swung his legs off the bed. "Good. I need to speak with him too."
"Come with us."
Turgon stood, then hesitated. "Could I have some water first?"
"Now."
Turgon looked at him.
"Right. Of course."
He followed.
They passed through several secured corridors before boarding a lift that carried them upward. Turgon tried asking where they were, but none of the Knights answered. Eventually, the doors opened into a much larger complex, and Turgon realized they were still somewhere beneath the Parliament district.
The Knights escorted him through a series of increasingly elaborate rooms until voices became audible ahead.
One belonged to Malgus.
"…yes, it will happen. Everything is prepared. Haven will attack first, I assure you."
Turgon's steps slowed.
Attack first?
The doors opened.
Malgus stopped speaking.
He stood beside a large strategic display showing Oa and the surrounding system, accompanied by several officials Turgon recognized from the highest levels of the Concord government. One wore a Directorate military uniform.
The display disappeared almost immediately.
Malgus turned toward Turgon.
"Ah."
His expression softened.
"The intruder."
Turgon swallowed.
Malgus looked toward the Emerald Knights and frowned when he noticed how closely they were holding Turgon between them.
"Why are you treating him like a prisoner?"
"My lord, he entered a Level Ten restricted…"
"I know what happened."
The Knights straightened.
"My apologies, Lord Malgus."
Malgus walked toward Turgon and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Come. Sit."
The warmth in his voice immediately loosened some of the tension inside Turgon's chest.
"You've had quite a night, haven't you?"
Turgon gave a nervous laugh. "That is one way of putting it."
Malgus guided him toward a chair.
"Tell me what happened. All of it. I already know you didn't intend to breach the vault."
Turgon smiled faintly.
He had known Malgus would understand.
He began at the beginning.
Someone had contacted him through his personal computer, claiming to be Jade. They knew about his search for his birth parents and used that knowledge to convince him to enter Parliament. His clearance had suddenly changed to Level Ten. The messages guided him through the lower levels and into the sealed archive.
Turgon described the containment chamber and the blue ring.
"She opened it somehow," Turgon said. "I didn't touch the controls. I actually told her I wasn't going to."
"And then?"
"The ring flew toward me."
Turgon looked down at his hand.
"It said I had the ability to instill great hope and welcomed me to something called the Blue Lantern Corps. Then it forced itself onto my finger."
Malgus nodded slowly.
"Anything else?"
Turgon hesitated.
The village.
Adara.
Find me in Sanctuary.
You are our only hope of bringing Ion back.
For some reason, the words stopped before leaving his mouth.
Why?
Malgus was the Green Lantern.
If anyone should know, it was him.
Yet something inside Turgon resisted.
Perhaps it was simply embarrassment. Telling the greatest living hero of Oa that he had dreamed about Ion's supposedly nonexistent sister sounded ridiculous.
"No," Turgon said.
Malgus watched him carefully.
"Nothing happened after the ring attached itself? No visions? Voices? Dreams?"
Turgon's stomach tightened.
"No."
The lie came more easily than he expected.
Malgus's expression returned to one of sympathy.
"I understand."
"You do?"
"More than you realize."
He sat opposite Turgon.
"There are extremists within the Covenant who have spent centuries collecting relics from the Golden Age. Zealots who believe Ion's Entombment was caused by the abandonment of old traditions and that the Corps can somehow be restored through ritual and ancient technology."
Turgon frowned. "You think they did this?"
"I believe someone connected to them manipulated you."
"But the clearance?"
"Government systems can be compromised."
"And the report about Ion?"
"Forgery."
Turgon looked uncertain.
Malgus leaned forward.
"You are an intelligent man, Turgon. Ask yourself what is more likely. That Ion secretly emerged from the Battery without anyone on Oa knowing and wandered Sector 616 four centuries ago with beings from some unknown species... or that someone created a false report to make you doubt everything you have been taught?"
When he said it that way, the answer seemed obvious.
Turgon exhaled.
"I suppose."
"You were targeted because of your position and because they knew what you wanted."
"My parents."
"Yes."
Malgus squeezed his shoulder.
"They used that against you. There is no shame in wanting to know where you came from."
Turgon looked down at the blue ring.
"What about this?"
Malgus's expression hardened slightly.
"A dangerous relic from the past."
Turgon looked up.
"Dangerous?"
"Any technology made using the Emotional Spectrum can be dangerous without proper training, especially one we understand so little about."
He smiled reassuringly.
"But I can help you remove it."
Relief washed through Turgon.
"Thank you."
Malgus smiled.
"Well, I am a Green Lantern, aren't I?"
"It is what I do."
For an instant, Turgon saw the same man who had descended from the sky four hundred years ago and sent his bullies running.
Malgus stood and motioned toward the Emerald Knights.
"They will take you to a secure facility equipped to deal with this. We will remove it safely, examine what was done to you, and then we can begin investigating who manipulated you."
Turgon nodded.
"All right."
He followed the Knights out.
The journey back through Parliament was considerably faster. They led him to a secure landing platform where a heavily armoured transport waited with its engines already active.
Turgon was about to board when a public holo-screen mounted above the platform caught his attention.
A news broadcast was playing.
"…Havenite government officials have formally accused the Concord of responsibility for the destruction of the Ardent Shipyards earlier today. Haven's Defence Council has announced the immediate mobilization of orbital forces…"
Turgon stopped.
The display changed to footage of burning shipyard platforms surrounded by debris.
The presenter continued.
"…the Commonwealth has declared a temporary blockade of Oa. The Concord government denies any involvement in the attack."
Turgon stared.
Haven will attack first, I assure you.
Malgus's words returned to him.
"What?"
One of the Knights turned.
"Get inside."
"What's going on?"
"The situation is being handled."
"Haven is blockading Oa?"
"Deputy Director."
Turgon looked between the Knights.
Something about their tone made him uneasy.
"Right."
He reluctantly entered the transport.
The doors sealed behind him.
The vehicle lifted from the platform and accelerated into Ionith's traffic lanes before climbing toward the upper city. Two additional transports joined them, one ahead and one behind, forming a small escort group.
Turgon sat beside one of the windows.
No one spoke.
Several minutes passed.
Then every warning system inside the transport activated at once.
"Contact!"
The Knights immediately moved.
"Bearing?"
"Three-zero-two, high approach!"
"Unknown craft closing fast!"
"Defensive pattern! Escort Two, break starboard!"
The transport banked so violently that Turgon was thrown against his restraints.
A green-white beam passed across the window.
"That's weapons fire!"
"No kidding!" Turgon shouted.
The rear turret opened fire.
"Hostile craft, six hundred metres!"
"Locking!"
"Missile away!"
An explosion flashed beyond the window.
Turgon ducked instinctively as something struck the transport's shield hard enough to shake the entire cabin.
"Shield integrity at eighty-one percent!"
"Escort One has weapons lock."
"Fire!"
Another burst of energy crossed the sky.
Turgon looked through the window and saw the other two Concord transports manoeuvring around them while a smaller, unmarked craft darted between the towers.
Then something landed on their hull.
The impact made everyone look up.
"Boarders!"
One Knight raised his weapon.
"Seal the aft compartment!"
The wall exploded inward.
Turgon covered his head as fragments of metal scattered across the cabin.
Three figures entered through the breach.
White robes.
That was the first thing Turgon noticed.
One of the intruders raised an empty hand.
An emerald shield appeared.
Turgon's eyes widened.
The Knights fired.
Blaster bolts struck the shield and vanished against it.
"How..."
The second intruder swept one hand forward and created a long emerald sword.
No ring.
Turgon stared at their fingers.
None of them had rings.
Yet the constructs were unmistakable.
The swordsman charged.
An Emerald Knight met him with an energy blade, and green light filled the cabin as the two weapons collided. The first robed figure expanded his shield to cover the breach while the third, an enormous Oan almost twice Turgon's width, came straight toward him.
"Oh, no."
Turgon tried to move.
The huge Oan grabbed him around the waist and lifted him from the seat.
"Hey!"
Turgon kicked uselessly.
"Put me down!"
The man did not even react.
"Let go of me!"
A woman among the three turned while parrying a shot with a green construct.
"We have him!"
"Wonderful!" Turgon shouted. "Now un-have me!"
She looked at him.
"Shut up."
"What?"
The huge Oan jumped through the breach with Turgon still under one arm.
Turgon screamed.
For several terrifying seconds, there was nothing beneath them but hundreds of metres of open air and the city far below. Then the unmarked transport swept underneath them, and the Oan landed on its roof before dropping through an open hatch.
The other two followed.
Their craft accelerated away immediately.
Turgon scrambled upright.
"Who are you people?"
The woman pulled back her hood.
"We are true followers of Ion."
She looked at the blue ring on his finger.
"And you, Turgon, are apparently the one who is going to bring him back."
Turgon's mouth fell open.
She shrugged.
"At least, that is what the crazy old man says."
Turgon slowly leaned back against the wall of the speeding transport.
He really should have just stayed home.
.
.
Malgus