Kyle Rayner alighted on the grounds of the Citadel and was met by his fellow Green Lantern, Medphyll. The cyclopic alien appeared stick-figure thin within his black and green uniform, which was an apt analogy; the vegetative anatomy of the ring-wielder from J586 was still re-growing, healing the damage suffered in battling the Manhunters, and had so far produced only a narrow skeleton of wood.*
(* As chronicled in the recent MANHUNTER WAR storyline – DG & TJB)

"Greetings, Kyle Rayner," Medphyll hailed his fellow Corpsman.

"Hey, Medphyll, looking good," Rayner nodded. Together the two Green Lanterns entered the Guardians' Citadel and proceeded down the main hall. Their footsteps echoed off the smooth surfaces of the Citadel's viridian walls.

"The Guardians will be pleased that you answered their summons so swiftly," Medphyll noted.

Rayner shrugged. "I haven't been doing much for the last couple of weeks. I mean, you know, a JLA mission here or there. And some freelance projects to pay the rent. Caught a couple of late-night movies. But, you know, today I didn't have anything planned."

"I ... see," Medphyll answered doubtfully.

"Something wrong, Med?" Rayner asked.

Medphyll shook his head, waggling the green leafy fronds that hung around his head. "I think perhaps some of your Earth customs are too strange for me to fully appreciate."

Rayner chuckled. "Probably."

Medphyll continued, "However, what you and I have in common is the Green Lantern Corps, its triumphs and its tragedies alike."

"That's true," Rayner agreed.

"And either of us would do whatever the Corps required of us," Medphyll said solemnly.

"Right," Rayner replied slowly. He came to a halt, and put his hand on Medphyll's shoulder, stopping his companion as well. "What are you getting at?"

Medphyll blinked his single dark eye, but made no direct response. He stepped away from Rayner, put his branch-like fingers against a door set into the corridor, and pushed it open. "You may wait for the Guardians in here, Kyle Rayner."

Rayner stared at Medphyll for a moment longer, then stepped past him to enter the room. Medphyll shut the door behind Rayner.

Rayner found himself alone in a small, plain room, unfurnished except for a single simple chair. He crossed the room and sat down, wondering how long he would have to wait for the Guardians. Then the room was plunged into absolute darkness.

"Hello?" Rayner called out, realizing immediately that it would do no good. He stood up and turned towards the wall where the door was located, generating a small emerald flashlight with his power ring. The beam of light from the green bulb fell on an uneven rocky surface like a cave wall, rather than any interior structure of the Citadel.

"All right, this is weird, but it's not like it's the weirdest thing I've ever seen," Rayner muttered. Then the inky shadows surrounding the small emerald halo cast by his flashlight construct were suffused with light from another source, behind him: a flickering, fiery blue-green.

Rayner turned around. Standing in the middle of the cavern was a man whose body was so ravaged it seemed impossible that he could stand upright. He wore a tattered army jacket, a filthy tanktop, and much-abused cargo pants, tucked into futuristically-styled boots that glowed with emerald energy. Blue-green flames danced up and down the man's frail arms and leaked from his eyes. The skin of his arms, hands, chest and face was covered in horrific wounds: weeping lacerations, pus-filled blisters, angry bruises, cracked burns. His long mane of hair was as ragged as his clothes.

"Hello, Green Lantern," the man called Purgatory said.

Hal Jordan stood at the bar at the Saddlehorn Steakhouse, taking an occasional sip of a draft beer as he looked toward the front door of the restaurant at increasingly shorter intervals. He had been waiting for Carol Ferris for eighteen minutes. When she finally walked into the restaurant just before the nineteen minute mark, Hal nearly didn't recognize her, forcing him into a blatant double-take.

Carol Ferris strode across the restaurant in a short black cocktail dress and high heels. Her hair was piled stylishly atop her head, her makeup was flawless and her jewelry glittered in the low light. Hal Jordan let out a low, appreciative whistle as she approached him.

"If that's the closest you're going to come to a compliment, I suppose I should take it as such," Carol smiled wryly.

"You look beautiful," Jordan offered. He gestured at himself, specifically at his linen shirt and blue jeans. "You make me look incredibly underdressed by comparison, but you do look beautiful. I ... uh ... I wasn't really sure this was that kind of date."

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't," Carol said coyly, as the twosome made their way to their table. Jordan pulled out her chair; she lowered herself into it and said, "But I've learned a thing or two going on dates with Hal Jordan over the years."

"Oh really?" Jordan said, taking his own seat. "Such as?"

"Such as, most of those dates end with you needing to leave in the middle," Carol explained. "Usually because someone ... gives you a ring," she added meaningfully.

"I guess I deserve that," Jordan admitted. "So, what ... you dress to the nines to make the most of the date for however long it lasts?"

"Actually, I've found that when you abandon me, it's much easier to find a companion to finish dinner with, and possibly have the bill and my taxi home paid for, if I look as irresistible as possible," she replied. Jordan looked at her disbelievingly, and she met his eyes steadily. Then she shrugged and picked up her menu. "But who knows? Maybe we'll make it to the end of this date."

"Maybe," Jordan laughed, then shook his head and opened his menu. "So, what are you hungry for?"

"Honestly, I'm fairly ravenous," Carol advised her companion. "I hope you're prepared to spend some time across the table from a woman with a healthy appetite."

"Absolutely," Jordan nodded. "It's like Kilowog always says about females who love good food ..."

"Hal," Carol cut him off severely. "Let's ... let's not talk shop tonight, all right? I'm sure you don't want to hear about Ferris Aircraft earnings, and I know I don't want to hear about ... alien proverbs, or anything."

"All right," Jordan acquiesced. The silence that followed was uncomfortable, as Jordan stole glances over his menu to see if he could read his date's expression. But Carol was impassive, her eyes cold and dark.

"Surely you remember me, Green Lantern?" Purgatory said with a crooked smile.

Rayner nodded slowly. "You're Paul Christian. I gave you those," he gestured toward the glowing green boots which were actually prostheses for the man's missing lower legs, "but you had a hard time controlling them. And Neron made a deal with you, giving you more control if you would take me out. So you came after me, but you ... you failed ..."

Purgatory lurched at Rayner, jutting his scabrous chin forward defiantly. "Yes, I failed," he hissed. "And the last time you saw me I was being dragged down into the underworld by Neron, to begin an eternity of hellish torment. And you never spared me another thought, did you?"

Rayner made no answer, staring at the ragged madman. A few moments passed before Rayner said, "What do you want with me now?"

Purgatory's face twisted into a feral grin. "To hurt you," he croaked.

Rayner's power ring flared to life and encased him in the verdant armor of a knight of the Crusades. A shining green sword with an eight-foot blade appeared in his gauntleted hand. "Bring it on," Rayner insisted.

Purgatory laughed, loud and mocking, throwing his head back in obvious enjoyment. He looked at Rayner again and said, "I haven't been flayed with poison-soaked chains for months on end without learning a few lessons, Green Lantern. Physical combat holds no interest for me. And any armor you cast on yourself is meaningless as well. My only concern is what lies ... within."

Purgatory raised his arms over his head and gouts of blue-green flame leapt up from his limbs. Massive curtains of supernatural fire appeared behind the wreck of a man, then slowly parted, revealing a larger-than-life scene in which Donna Troy and Kyle Rayner stood in Rayner's New York apartment, screaming at each other. In front of the looming vision, Rayner stood helplessly transfixed.

"You lost her, didn't you?" Purgatory leered. "She was with you when Neron tasked me with destroying you, but it didn't last. It couldn't. First she thought you wanted someone else ..." – the scene shifted to Donna walking in on Rayner as he sketched his neighbor, modeling nude – "... but ultimately she realized it was you who could never be what she wanted." The scene blurred again, then resolved as an image of Donna Troy and Terry Long, their naked bodies entwined in an embrace.

"N-no," Rayner shook his head. "Donna didn't want Terry ... she just took his death very hard ..."

Purgatory ignored him. "She left you," he asserted. "They all do." Within the burning blue-green frame, the intimate coupling of Donna Troy and Terry Long metamorphosed into a similarly entangled Jennie-Lynn Hayden and Hank King. "One way ... or the other." Jennie-Lynn Hayden's green skin paled to peach, her hair faded from black to auburn, as she became Alexandra DeWitt. The man holding her in his arms became larger, almost impossibly muscular, and his skin took on a metallic sheen. Rayner recognized the malicious antipathy of Major Force glaring at him over the top of Alex's head just before Major Force twisted the neck of the naked woman he held in his arms, snapping vertebrae and killing her instantly.

"NO!" Rayner bellowed, throwing his emerald broadsword at Purgatory. A dozen more green swords, each larger and more vicious than the last, exploded out of the face of Rayner's power ring and flew like arrows at the disheveled wretch. Rather than skewering Purgatory, however, the solid-light weapons passed harmlessly through him. Purgatory howled with laughter as Green Lantern fell exhausted to his knees.

Mikaba Mylla Mi stepped back, removing his wizened hands from the white-furred head of N'Lasa. The shaggy, leonine creature looked up at the diminutive, blue-skinned Guardian and received an almost imperceptible nod in return. N'Lasa rose to his full height, and his robe swirled around his legs. The ceremonial garment was large enough for N'Lasa's frame, but in every other way identical to Mikaba Mylla Mi's: red and white, emblazoned with the stylized green symbol of a lantern, the crest of the Corps.

"Congratulations, N'Lasa," Mikaba Mylla Mi said. "You are now a Guardian of the Universe, and may rightly call us brothers, as we shall call you the same."

N'Lasa inclined his muzzle slightly. "I am honored ... brothers. My only regret is that my elevation has been necessitated by the death of our friend Ganthet."

"The circle must be complete, even when interrupted by sacrifice," Mikaba Mylla Mi confirmed.

"I think what Mikaba is trying to say," John Stewart added, "is that we all mourn for Ganthet, but try not to think of yourself as his replacement. You deserve to be a Guardian, and you belong here."

"As do you, my brother," N'Lasa addressed Stewart respectfully. "Although I cannot help but notice that you do not wear the same vestments as we do."

Stewart shrugged. "Robes aren't really my style," he admitted. "Maybe it's one of those little things that differentiate a human Guardian from an Oan."

"A useful distinction," Mikaba Mylla Mi put in. "Perhaps such differences also account for the high number of humans in the rank and file of the Green Lantern Corps."

"Indeed," N'Lasa said. "Where are our other human friends? Besides Mark Shaw, whom I believe is touring your considerable library with the Green Lantern called Hollika Rahn."

"Guy Gardner, as always, keeps his own counsel," Mikaba Mylla Mi answered. "And Hal Jordan requested an evening without assignation, in order to see to his 'social life', as the humans say."

"And Kyle Rayner?" N'Lasa asked.

"Kyle Rayner is ... indisposed," the Guardian said dismissively. John Stewart and N'Lasa looked at each other questioningly, but then the threesome was interrupted by the arrival of the Green Lantern Chaselon.

"Guardians!" the spherical crystalline alien called out, robotic tentacles gesticulating. "Green Lanterns have arrived!"

Chaselon entered the room ahead of three other lifeforms. One was a six-foot tall humanoid, with light blue skin and large, bulbous eyes. One was a three-foot tall biped covered in brown fur, including furry antennae and extravagantly long mustachios, and a long, bushy tail. And one was an eight-foot tall pile of gelatinous pink goop with a deep red orb at its heart. The first two aliens wore black and green uniforms of the Green Lantern Corps, while the third wore the Corps's badge-like symbol across its red nucleus.

"Procanon Kaa," Mikaba Mylla Mi said, nodding to the blue-skinned humanoid. "Skirl," the Guardian said to the brown-furred biped. "Gpaak," the Guardian greeted the pink protoplasm.

"Guardian," the three Green Lanterns answered in unison, bowing and undulating.

"More Green Lanterns?" John Stewart asked Mikaba Mylla Mi.

"And more to follow," the ancient Guardian confirmed. "The Corps must expand, particularly as the Guardians now reside on such a populous world. Earth must be defended against the threats which will surely seek to menace the Guardians. We must be prepared for any eventuality."

"We always say that," Stewart said ruefully, "but it doesn't always work out that way."

The entire cavern seemed to burn in bluish-green, and at the heart of the supernatural inferno Purgatory stood over Kyle Rayner, who was down on his hands and knees. "Poor little Green Lantern," Purgatory taunted. "Does everyone leave him behind because he lets them down so badly? Or do they sometimes leave before he has a chance, because it's so obvious he would let them down given time?"

A savage kick caught Rayner in the ribs, sending him sprawling across the cave's rocky floor. The pain focused Rayner's will, and he lashed out with a spiked curve of emerald light radiating from his power ring toward his attacker. However, the figure who had kicked him, now standing in the path of the arc of solid-light spikes, was not Purgatory. The newcomer was a man dressed in black jeans and a gray turtleneck, with hair the same color as Rayner's and a matching mustache. This man appeared whole and healthy, until the emerald spikes pierced his throat, chest and stomach, expelling sprays of bright red blood.

"Dad?" Rayner whispered, aghast. His father slumped to the ground, with wet crimson pooling around him and reflecting Purgatory's blue-green fires.

"You might as well admit that you've always wanted to do that," Purgatory urged Rayner. "Ever since your father abandoned you and your mother, you've harbored a desire to make him pay, and pay dearly."

"I'm not a killer!" Rayner countered stridently. Still lying on his side, he aimed his ring at Purgatory and released a gigantic female angel, which flew toward the damaged madman and tried to enfold him in her viridian arms. Purgatory leapt upwards, with demonic wings composed of blue-green flame springing from his back, and incinerated the angel with a blast of the same supernatural force.

"Not a killer?" Purgatory demanded. "No, obviously not. You could never wield the power over life and death. Death itself makes you feel powerless. The death of your girlfriend, the death of your fellow Green Lanterns ... the death of your mentor ..."

Purgatory slashed a hand through the air, sending a whiplike tendril of ghostly fire at Rayner. Rayner projected a glowing emerald shield in response, but the tendril wrapped around the shield and then pulled back fiercely. Rayner felt a tremor of unearthly pain run through his right arm as the tendril drew back, dragging the shield with it, and dragging energy from his power ring as well. Rayner clenched his right hand into a fist, but the exodus of power continued without slowing. After a few seconds, the charge was completely gone, and the power ring was an inert piece of jewelry on Rayner's finger.

Overhead, Purgatory hovered on his bat-like wings of blue-green flame, with a rope of fire in the same hue dangling from his hands. Wrapped up in the blazing line was a small figure, every inch entirely green but so faint and pale as to be almost white. The figure was clearly Ganthet, and just as clearly suffering greatly at Purgatory's hands, while Rayner could only watch from below. He was unarmed, and he was helpless.

TO BE CONTINUED ...!!!

NEXT ISSUE: Kyle fights for his life, his sanity, and his power as Green Lantern! More veterans of the Corps arrive ... and more secrets of the Corps are revealed! Be here!

AUTHORS' NOTES:

We're back! A little over a year ago I decided I needed to step away from Green Lantern for the foreseeable future. Turns out it was just a hiatus and not total abandonment. TJ and I are once again collaborating to bring you the best ring-slinging action around! We hope you enjoy what we've got cooked up for the third year's worth of adventures of the Green lantern Corps - let us know what you think!

In brightest day,
DWG
11/27/2007