Even with Kyle Rayner's naturally rich emotional palette and Thea's cheat codes—dropping in periodically with tips and techniques, asking only that he develop a rough feel for each emotion rather than full mastery, just enough to facilitate the eventual merger—the process was still grueling. Each new emotion doubled the difficulty of acquiring the next.
But as a deeply passionate artist, Kyle Rayner's potential was limitless. A short rest was all he needed before throwing himself at the next gate.
Thea left a projection behind to coach him. He'd need much more time before reaching the level of merging all seven, and he certainly wouldn't make it in time for the First Lantern battle. Not that it would have mattered much if he had.
Her requirement for Kyle Rayner was simple: be ready to merge the seven Emotional Entities before the Lights Out event. That was the deadline.
Thea herself had spent over a day extracting the correct coordinates from Guardian H'ruba's memories. Her form flickered and vanished from Ruichi Prime.
In the deep void of space, a colossal stone sarcophagus drifted in silence. Its surface was blanketed with countless seals—blocking time, blocking space, forbidding energy from entering or leaving in any form.
This place belonged to no sector. Even the Green Lantern Corps, which had patrolled the cosmos for eons, had never so much as tagged this region on a map.
The little blue Guardians had built an immense prison amid a sea of stars, surrounded by asteroid fields and planetary debris. The most advanced scanners in the universe couldn't find it.
But the sarcophagus had already been opened, and two factions now stood in tense opposition.
Four Guardians—the ones who'd escaped Nekron—were conferring in low tones. Ganthet and Sayd, still struggling, were bound tight in energy chains. Two conduits pierced their bodies, connecting them to a kaleidoscopic lantern nearby.
Inside the lantern, the faint silhouette of a towering figure—shimmering in seven colors—was screaming at the Guardians.
On the lantern's far side stood eight more diminutive figures. Blue skin, barely a meter tall—unmistakably of the same species as the Guardians. But their clothing was ragged, almost refugee-like. The one at the front was a tiny old man whose beard nearly swept the floor.
"You've gone insane! Sealing the First Lantern—wasn't that a decision we all made together? His energy is far too dangerous. He's an uncontrollable variable!" The long-bearded elder was shouting.
The large-headed Guardian who'd spoken with Thea on multiple occasions remained expressionless. He glanced at the First Lantern, still raging inside the lantern prison, before speaking in measured tones. "Everything we do is for the sake of universal peace. Emotion is the root of cosmic turmoil. Because life is greedy and wrathful, it breeds the courage to rebel—an endless cycle. Only by breaking this cycle, only by eliminating all emotion from every living being, will the universe achieve true peace. As his wardens, your duty can end today. Join us."
"Nonsense! You insult the billions of years we've sacrificed and endured! You stationed us in this prison to stand guard for eons, and now you have the gall to say it was all a mistake? You don't deserve to call yourself a Guardian. You've lost yourself in your own power." The long-bearded warden fired back.
"My brother, you're the one who's wrong. Can't you see the truth even now? Life is equal. Every being has the right to decide its own path—Guardians shouldn't be meddling with that!" Ganthet, bound hand and foot, was lobbing verbal grenades from the sidelines.
Three factions of the same race erupted into a furious argument. In the eyes of the mainstream Guardians and the prison wardens, they were the supreme arbiters—ordinary beings could only accept their decisions passively, without question or objection.
Ganthet was the progressive. He proposed the Guardians relinquish control entirely and step into the background. Both other factions tore into him for it, accusing him of forgetting his duty.
The three groups flung accusations back and forth. Thea lurked in the shadows, listening for a while, and concluded that the Guardians had wasted their billion-year lifespans by never figuring out what they actually were. They'd conjured up a heap of self-assigned responsibilities and then spent eternity debating them. When you got right down to it—whether the universe lived or died, what business was it of theirs?
"You picked a hell of a hiding spot. All the terrible things you've done—aren't you afraid of going to Hell?" Thea strolled out of the void, utterly at ease. She surveyed the First Lantern first—not bad. He wasn't actually that powerful. Weaker than Lady Styx, even.
Then again, she knew he no longer had a ring, had been imprisoned for eons, and was currently serving as a battery powering the Third Army across the entire universe. The fact that he still had this much strength after all that was impressive enough.
"We act in the name of universal peace. That shouldn't conflict with the New Gods' principles," said the large-headed Guardian.
Strictly from a Death perspective, that was technically true. The realm of the dead didn't need emotions.
"Ridiculous..." Thea threw her head back and laughed. Just as the Guardians expected some grand pronouncement, she executed a spatial jump, her right hand lashing out a wind blade that severed the energy chains connecting Ganthet and Sayd to the First Lantern.
Simultaneously, she erected a barrier in front of herself. Four little blue men scrambled to attack, but their strikes fizzled and hissed against the shield without leaving a scratch. Seeing they couldn't break through, two of the Guardians resorted to connecting their own bodies to the First Lantern as replacement power conduits.
"Your Majesty, this is unwise. You don't understand how dangerous the prisoner is. If you want Ganthet and Sayd, they're yours. Please leave!" Despite the ambush, the Guardians showed no anger—they had no emotions. They continued with mechanical calm, like programs executing their next instruction.
"I'm neither omnipotent nor omniscient, but I do know this man." Thea grabbed Ganthet, feeling considerably more at ease. She pointed at the seven-colored silhouette in the lantern. "He's a time-traveler. He came from countless millennia in the future, back to your era—ten billion years ago. Am I right?"
The prisoner bared his teeth in a soundless laugh. The four Guardians' expressions remained wooden. The prison wardens, unclear on what she intended, chose to watch from the sidelines. Only Ganthet nodded. "Your Majesty, you're entirely correct. He brought us the technology to forge power rings—technology we still don't fully understand to this day."
Thea gave a slight nod. She turned to Ganthet. "I'm very sorry about this. By your logic—for the sake of universal peace—I owe you an apology."
Ganthet blinked, bewildered by her non sequitur. He managed a single "What—?" before Thea's porcelain-white, slender fingers drove straight into his chest.
Why is she trying to kill me? He didn't understand what was happening—until he realized she wasn't targeting his body. She was reaching for something on a higher plane.
Realization struck. He began to resist with everything he had. The four Guardians, Sayd, and the eight prison wardens all attacked simultaneously.