[Third person POV]
Danny panted heavily, each breath tearing at his throat, raw and hoarse from his last ghostly wail. His chest rose and fell with sharp, uneven gasps as he scanned the battlefield through bleary eyes. Smoke curled from the scorched ground, green-tinted and acrid, rising from the many craters left in the aftermath of his power.
The terrain was torn apart, scarred by violence—crystals lay shattered in jagged heaps, some having collapsed over the fallen bodies of Star Sapphires, burying them beneath the rubble. Others were strewn across the battlefield, unconscious or moaning in pain, their bodies twisted and sprawled, some embedded into the walls.
Danny could feel the slick warmth of blood trickling down the side of his face, mixing with the sweat and grime that coated his skin. The sharp coppery tang of it filled his mouth, bitter and metallic. He spat the blood to the side with a grimace, wiping his mouth with the back of his trembling hand, before instinct screamed at him to move. He jumped, launching himself into a roll just as the ground behind him exploded in a deafening boom.
A massive violet fist smashed down where he had been standing moments ago, shattering the ground like fragile glass. The shockwave sent chunks of debris flying into the air. Danny skidded along the fractured terrain but he managed to recover quickly. He looked up and saw reinforcements—more Lanterns closing in, their glowing auras cutting through the dust and smoke like searchlights.
His heart sank. His shoulders drooped with exhaustion, but his face twisted in frustration and disbelief.
"Why is it always me…" he whispered, voice cracking. "Why always me…"
"Sam was right… This was a stupid idea."
Despite the pain, despite the overwhelming odds, Danny exhaled and rolled his neck until a sharp crack sounded. "Damn me and my inability to walk away from a fight…"
---
Meanwhile…
While Danny drew the attention of the Lantern forces in a chaotic clash, Sam used the diversion to slip away unnoticed. Darting between the towering shards of crystal, she moved silently, agile, and focused. She leapt behind jagged formations, tumbled across open patches. Pink light occasionally danced across the reflective surfaces, warning her of how close she was to being seen.
Peeking carefully around a corner, she scanned the skies before bolting toward the next cover, her boots barely making a sound against the ground. Behind her, the sound of distant explosions echoed like thunder, punctuated by tremors she could feel beneath her feet. Each quake made her heart pound harder.
Sam paused, hiding behind a tall, broken column. Her eyes widened slightly as she turned her head, the distant flashes of combat reflecting in her eyes. Worry clutched at her chest like a vice. Her instincts screamed to run back, to help, to not let him face this alone.
But she took a deep breath and steadied herself.
"No… I need to trust Danny," she whispered aloud, placing a hand over her heart. "I need to believe in him. He's strong. He'll be okay. He has to be."
With her resolve restored, she pressed forward. Slipping into the palace's interior through a narrow entrance, she kept her body low and moved with cautious precision. The corridors stretched long and narrow, dimly lit by glowing crystals embedded in the walls. Their violet hue cast long shadows, making every corner feel ominous.
She had no map, no sense of direction—just her gut and determination. She passed door after door, each one plain and silent, offering no clue if it led to the throne room or some dead end. Still, she pressed on, heart pounding louder with each step.
Suddenly, voices echoed ahead.
"Come on, we need to move. Apparently, they're calling in everyone—they need all the help they can get."
"Seriously? Against a couple of kids? Are they that incompetent?"
"No, it's mostly just the boy causing problems. The girl… she hasn't been seen."
Sam's breath hitched as violet light flickered from around the corner. Panic surged through her veins. Without thinking, she darted into the nearest door, shutting it gently but swiftly behind her. Twin beams of light flashed under the doorframe as the two Lanterns flew past. Her hand remained on the handle, breath caught in her throat, waiting… listening…
Silence.
She let out a long, shaky breath of relief—only to freeze again.
The cold press of metal kissed her throat.
Sam's blood turned to ice.
"Well, well…" a calm, unsettling voice spoke behind her. "What a surprise… to think the intruder would come straight to me."
Sam's heart thudded violently in her chest. Slowly, she turned her head to look over her shoulder. Standing there was a woman who looked strikingly similar to Queen Aga'po but younger, with paler skin and brown hair styled almost identically to Sam's.
Despite the blade at her neck, Sam forced a crooked, nervous smile and raised her hands in surrender.
"I come in peace…" she said in exasperation.
"Really? Because from what I'm hearing, it's still very much an ongoing battle with that boy who followed you through the portal. He's giving our warriors more trouble than we expected." Ghia'ta said coldly, her tone laced with skepticism.
She raised her ring, and a projection of violet light emerged from it, materializing into a detailed hologram of Danny. The image showed him engaged in a fierce battle against an overwhelming number of Star Sapphires. Despite the odds, he held his own, dodging attacks and landing blows with incredible skill and determination.
"I must admit, he's quite impressive," she added, her voice now carrying a faint note of admiration.
Sam sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging under the weight of anxiety and urgency. "I know… I know he is. That's exactly why I'm trying to meet your queen—to end this madness before it gets even worse. I don't want Danny to be hurt any more than he already has. I came here to explain what really happened… to clear the air and stop this from escalating into something far worse."
Ghia'ta, niece of Queen Aga'po, narrowed her eyes as she studied Sam's expression. There was no deceit in her voice, no manipulation—only raw sincerity and a deep concern that pierced through Ghia'ta's initial hostility. Her grip on her sword tightened slightly as her curiosity overcame her sense of duty.
"Then explain it to me," Ghia'ta said at last, stepping forward with her blade still raised but less threatening now. "Tell me everything. But know this—if I don't like what I hear, I will deliver you to the Queen myself and see to it that your punishment is carried out."
Sam clenched her fists in frustration. She didn't have time for this. Danny was out there fighting for his life, and here she was, stuck trying to reason with a warrior princess. But what choice did she have? If talking was the only way forward, then she would speak.
With a weary sigh, Sam closed her eyes and she shared everything—her desire to help Danny, the chaos that had unfolded, the sacrifice of her bond, and how the ring had chosen her when she least expected it. Her voice trembled in parts, but she pushed through, speaking with the weight of everything she had endured and everything she was willing to sacrifice.
Ghia'ta listened in stunned silence. Her brow furrowed deeper with each word, her expression shifting from disbelief to horror, she stared at Sam as if she was looking at an insane person.
"Why?" she finally asked, her voice hushed and shaken. "Why would you go to such lengths for him? Risk everything, give up everything… for what?"
Sam looked confused for a second. "What do you mean, why?" she asked, almost incredulously. "Aren't you people the Lanterns of Love? How could you not understand?"
She stepped forward, her voice rising, trembling with passion. "I did it all out of love! Love isn't just about flowers and feelings—it's about compromise, about sacrifice. When you really love someone, there's no such thing as 'too far.' You'll do whatever it takes for them. How can you call yourself a Lantern of love and not understand that?"
Ghia'ta blinked rapidly, as though struck by lightning. Her sword lowered fully as she staggered back a step, her breath catching in her throat. She closed her eyes, and for a moment, her expression was unreadable.
"I think I'm beginning to understand something," she said slowly. "I see now why the ring chose you… Compared to your love—your willingness to give everything—I feel… unworthy. Unworthy to call myself a bearer of violet light."
Sam stepped closer, gently taking Ghia'ta's hand in hers. Her grip was firm, but kind.
"I don't know much about the Corps or what your mission really is," Sam admitted softly, "but if you really are the protectors of love, then I'm asking you—begging you—to help me. Help me convince your Queen to stop this before it costs us everything. Help me save the person I love from doing something stupid and reckless."
Ghia'ta looked at her, deeply moved. The raw vulnerability, the desperation, the strength of emotion—everything about Sam struck her to her very core. Her beliefs, once rooted in ceremonial ideals, had just been turned on their head by a single human girl's unwavering devotion.
She smiled at last, a small but genuine curve of her lips, and gave a slow nod.
"Samantha Manson," Ghia'ta said with a newfound respect, "you hold a great love in your heart… more powerful than I've ever witnessed. Alright… I will do everything in my power to help you. I will speak to my aunt. I will stand with you."
She glanced down at her glowing lantern ring, curling her fingers into a fist. "I'll be what a true Star Sapphire is meant to be—a protector of love, and a defender of bonds that should never be broken. I'll help preserve the love between you and your chosen one."
Sam's face lit up with hope. She extended her hand. "Awesome! Then what are we waiting for? Let's go! The sooner we put an end to this, the sooner we can help Danny before he does something reckless and gets himself killed."
Without hesitation, Ghia'ta grasped Sam's hand. Her violet ring flared to life, surrounding them both in a glowing aura of violet energy. The two lifted off the ground together, floating in unison. Their bodies phased through the heavy door like light itself, before rocketing forward in a flash of violet, straight toward the throne room—toward the Queen, and toward whatever came next.
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