Kyle couldn't quite pin down what his relationship with Thea was supposed to be. Colleagues? Superior and subordinate? Or something closer to what Saint Walker had—the bond between a god and her devotee?
None of it mattered much at the moment. The situation was dire, and he had no choice but to grit his teeth and make the pilgrimage.
Saint Walker had talked the entire way, recounting one miracle after another from Thea's past.
As a citizen of a free, democratic nation, Kyle Rayner felt neither approval nor disapproval toward his friend's heartfelt worship. Everyone was entitled to their own way of life. He had no right to interfere.
But he wasn't about to kneel before a living person. Distance bred beauty—bred faith. Get too close, and awe evaporated.
At this point, Thea could reboot the entire universe and he still wouldn't prostrate himself. It wasn't personal. It was simply the nature of a modern man.
"Hey..." Kyle took in the woman standing before him. Plaid shirt. Jeans. An outfit indistinguishable from anything you'd see on Earth. While Saint Walker immediately dropped into a full ceremonial bow beside him, all Kyle could manage was an awkward wave.
Thankfully, Thea didn't dwell on the etiquette gap. Her true body was still on Ruichi Prime; this was just a projection she'd cast for the sake of this arrangement.
"Thank you, Saint Walker. Let me speak with Kyle alone."
Saint Walker didn't say a word. With the reverence of a priest leaving an altar, he backed out of the room.
"Relax. I've got a lot to cover today, Mr. Rayner. Have a seat." Thea gestured for Kyle to sit down.
She'd spent considerable time preparing for this conversation—not because of the immediate crisis, but because there was a far deeper purpose behind it.
"We don't know each other well, but we're both from Earth. I protect Earth. I protect the universe. Everything in this world is perfectly fair—to gain more power, I had to rise to a higher position." She opened with something suitably grand.
Kyle nodded. Compared to Thea, he was about as green as a superhero could get.
"The universe is vast. Even a Green Lantern has limits to what he can withstand. And there are many universes—I can't stand watch over this stretch of void forever. The greater one's power, the wider the territory one must protect."
More of the same lofty generalities. Kyle was reduced to nodding and nothing else.
"This universe needs a new guardian. The future will be extremely dangerous—dangerous to the people around you, dangerous to the entire cosmos. Are you willing to take on this responsibility, Kyle Rayner?" Her expression was solemn, almost sacred. Even a self-professed atheist like Kyle felt the weight of it press against his chest.
Maybe she really was a goddess? Maybe the casual front was just her way of experiencing ordinary life?
"Your Majesty..." The title tasted bitter on his tongue, though he supposed it would get easier with practice. "What can I do? As long as it's within my power, I'm willing to protect this universe. But I don't have much to offer."
Thea had considered simply leaving Kyle Rayner to fend for himself. They had zero personal history. All that talk about universal peace was nonsense—she didn't buy a word of it herself. The universe was like the tide: rising and falling, ebbing and flowing. True peace was a fantasy.
But if Kyle Rayner couldn't obtain the White Lantern, he'd never enter the Source Wall. And at Thea's current level, she could feel the Emotional Spectrum's depletion growing worse by the day. This universe was, frankly, on the brink of collapse. Without someone entering the Source Wall to replenish the emotions, the result would be a universe-scale detonation.
The White Lantern alone wouldn't be enough, either. Individual emotion was a speck of dust against the cosmos. Even a planetary will like Mogo's was insignificant.
Someone had to carry all seven Emotional Entities into the Source Wall and fill in what was missing. From Thea's perspective, the job was roughly equivalent to strapping on a satchel charge and rushing a bunker.
She had the ability. But if she refused—for whatever reason—the World Will would abandon her entirely.
And the young miss was genuinely afraid. The Source Wall had trapped even Yuga Khan. Strap on a ring, close your eyes, and charge in? Thea needed exactly two seconds to know she couldn't do it.
Too many unknowns. Could she get in? Could she get out? Would she still be herself when she emerged? These were catastrophic questions with no answers.
Or maybe an ordinary person wearing the White Lantern could enter, but a New God wearing it couldn't. Was that possible? She couldn't say it wasn't. The Source Wall didn't come with a user manual—who knew whether New Gods were even eligible?
Once stuck to that wall, it was game over. The young miss didn't have the courage to gamble her life on it. So this responsibility, she decided, really ought to fall on Kyle Rayner's shoulders.
Hunched over a staff, back bent, holding a great cauldron, stirring a bubbling green broth—then announcing in a mystical voice: "Drink, child. This is your destiny."
The mental image was clearly not heroic. Fortunately, she knew Highfather well enough to mimic his whole noble-and-righteous shtick, and the mountain of platitudes actually worked. Kyle was sold.
Without realizing it, the young miss had transitioned from adventurer to quest-giver. Kyle Rayner was one of the most important pieces on the board for the future.
Save the universe. Inject the Emotional Spectrum. Bring out the Life Equation along the way. Then lure Highfather into making a grab for it. If Highfather stayed true to himself, she'd let it go. She wouldn't engineer a crisis on purpose. But if Highfather succumbed to the Life Equation's temptation and did something tyrannical enough to alienate everyone around him—well, that was his bad luck.
Thea would step in at the final moment to hold things together: let Diana seize the Godhood of Justice and take the throne of New Genesis, while she herself claimed the Life Equation. She already had the excuse lined up: Only Death can contain Life. The plan was a chain of interlocking links, and every single one required a willing fool charging in at the front.
"What should I do?" Kyle asked, puzzled.
"You must become the White Lantern. You must take this responsibility from me."
She skipped the Entity step entirely—Kyle had no need to interact with that thing. The future Kyle would walk the path of merging all seven Emotional Entities. Resurrection, life-sharing—all those functions would be stripped away. All he needed was an emotional capacity strong enough to bear seven Entities at once.
That was still astronomically difficult for an ordinary person, but compared to Thea's method of controlling emotions through sheer personal mastery, it was considerably simpler.
With practiced ease, Thea flicked her index finger. Six replica rings floated into position before Kyle's eyes. All except the Orange Lantern—Larfleeze had been a hundred and twenty percent unwilling, and she'd had to slap him down first, costing an extra two seconds. The rest had come more or less "voluntarily."
The six rings reversed, dissolving back into raw emotion. Six towering gates of light materialized before Kyle.
"Walk through them. Each gate represents one emotion. Once you've mastered all seven, use your own courage to balance them. Time flows differently between our realms—don't worry about what's happening outside. If you're ready, step through now."
Kyle had courage to spare. Without hesitation, he chose the Yellow Gate of Fear as his first stop.
A full day passed. Kyle had just entered the third gate, having mastered Fear and Hope. At this pace, he'd definitely miss the coming battle.