Monday, November 30, 2015

DCU: The Society - Chapter 07

The Fawcett City Auditorium - On a stormy night in 1921

The stage was dark. The footlights were bright. A lone figure stood on stage, in black coat tails and a top hat, arms extended to the sides. He wore white gloves. His hair was black and oiled, his mustache black and thin. The crowd sat in awed silence. His eyes were dark and filled with mystery, but able to pierce in the inner workings of the soul whomever he gazed upon. His stage presence was even more powerful and hypnotic then anyone in the audience had heard.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said in his calm, cultured voice, that carried a vague and mysterious accent that was impossible to place. "I am Giovanni Zatara."

The audience erupted in an enthusiastic applause. They stood and cheered, hooted and hollered. Zatara had yet to perform a single trick or illusion. When the standing ovation died down, the people returned to their seats and waited eagerly to see the greatest stage magician in the world, perform his craft.

The first trick he always performed first, without fail, was he took off his hat and pulled a rabbit out of it. It was his five year old daughter's favorite trick, and she always watched from the side of the stage. She always smiled and clapped when she saw it and so did the audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Zatara announced, "my daughter, Zatanna."

That was her cue. Zatanna walked out on stage in an outfit that was exactly like her father's. She carried his black, magic wand with the white tip out to him. The audience applauded her, their hearts melting at the sight. Zatanna handed her father his magic wand and he handed her the rabbit. Zatanna waved at the audience and exited the stage. Now that he had his wand, Zatara put on his hat and gave the audience a bow.

"And now," he said with an almost devilish smile, "let us explore the mysteries of our world together."

After the show, his stage assistant had taken Zatanna back to the hotel to be put to bed. Zatara liked to stay around a little longer, to sign autographs and chat with members of the audience. While he was backstage, taking off his tailcoat and black tie, someone knocked on his dressing room door. He answered it, finding a handsome young man with blond hair standing at the door, holding a bundle in his arms.

"Mr. Zatara," the man said, "my name is Alan Scott."

"Are you here for an autograph, Mr. Scott?"

"No sir, I am not," Alan Scott answered. "I'm here to ask your help."

"Come in." Zatara stepped aside and invited Alan Scott into his dressing room. Scott walked in and looked around, while Zatara closed the dressing room door and walked over to his makeup desk. He slid his hands into his pockets and leaned against the makeup desk. "Are you here to learn a trick to impress a girl?"

Scott blinked and shook his head. "No. I was in the train wreck that happened two weeks ago."

"I'm sorry, that must have been very traumatic."

"It was," Scott said. "I found something out in the swamp, something that can't be explained."

Zatara shifted nervously before clearing his throat. "Then take my advice and leave it in the swamp. Good evening, Mr. Scott." Zatara turned his back on Alan Scott and pretended to busy himself at the makeup desk.

"These past two weeks I've been experiencing things," Scott continued. "I've been getting these feelings, these sensations that I can only describe as other worldly. At first I thought it was shell shock, but it isn't. It's something else. I've seen a man with white hair, wearing a blue hat and blue cloak. He spoke to me, he said that the stranger comes, when the stranger is needed."

His eyes wide, Zatara whipped around and faced Alan Scott. His hand pointed towards him, a look of complete disbelief on his face. "You've seen The Phantom Stranger?" Thoughts raced through Zatara's mind. His eyes darted back and forth as his mind worked every possible scenario that it could. "What exactly did you find out in the swamp, Mr. Scott?"

"This," Scott said. He set the bundle on the makeup desk and started unwrapping it. "I've been all over Fawcett City, making inquiries at libraries, corresponding with historians and getting nowhere. Finally I came across a rare book store here in the city and someone there recommended that I talk to you." Scott finished unwrapping the bundle and revealed the green lantern, with its emerald glow shining bright.

When he saw it, tears formed in Zatara's eyes. He slowly sat down and covered his mouth with his hand. Never in all of the years that he traveled the world, learning the secrets of the magical earth had he ever considered that he would see this for himself, with his own eyes.

"Do you now what it is?" Scott asked.

"Yes," Zatara answered quietly. "It's the Green Lantern, an ancient artifact from Kahndaq that was used to defeat Teth-Adam. Black Adam as he became known in history. Inside the Green Lantern, is a tiny fragment of the Rock of Eternity. The source of all magic on Earth."

"Magic? Mr. Zatara, magic is not real."

"It is quite real, Mr. Scott," Zatara argued. "It is very powerful and very dangerous. The question is, however, what on Earth is it doing in a swamp outside of Fawcett City?" Zatara leaned forward and stared at the Green Lantern intently, deep in thought. His eyes went wide and he shot to his feet. "Of course!" he roared. He grabbed his magic wand, coattail and hat and darted for the door.

Confused, Alan Scott grabbed the lantern and followed. The two of them were out of the building and into an alley before Scott could get his next question out. "Of course, what? Where are you going?"

"To mystery and adventure, Mr. Scott," Zatara said with a gleeful laugh. He stopped and turned sharply and stared directly into Alan Scott's eyes. "Dare you follow? Dare you take the Shadowpact?"


"Good," Zatara said with a devilish grin before throwing on his tailcoat and hat. "I'll need a man of spirit to aid me."

Alan Scott stammered, unable to speak anything intelligibly. He clutched the Green Lantern to his chest completely confused. A Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost pulled up on the street at the end of the alley. Laughing, Zatara raced towards it with Alan Scott following behind. "Ah! My driver, Tong!"

"Where are we going?" Scott managed to ask.

Upon reaching the Silver Ghost, Zatara spun around, that devilish grin stretched across his face. "The locals have been terrorized as late by something in the swamps. A creature, a monster, an unspeakable horror. Tonight, Mr. Scott, you and I hunt The Swamp Thing!"

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

DCU: The Society - Chapter 06

Kelvin Institute for Inquiry at Star City - After the train wreck, 1921

Ted Grant whistled and spun around on the ball of his foot. He had never been on a college campus before, with his background and history, he had always assumed it was not in the cards for him. There were beautiful girls everywhere. A smirk came across his face and he nudged Al Pratt with his arm.

"So this is where you go to school, huh?" Ted asked. He laughed and shook his head. "This place is crazy. Look at all the girls. Isn't this one of the top schools in the country?"

"It's currently considered the top school in the world," Al answered.

It was warm and the sun was out, so everyone not in class was sitting on the grass or under a tree. Over on a field by the biology department, a football game was going on. Everything was so bright and happy, that Ted was a little uncomfortable by it. He was used to the gray and brown slums that he lived in. Even though both experiences were in the same city, they seemed worlds apart. Beneath his smile and cheer, there was a sadness buried deep within him. Ted Grant knew that this was a life that he could never have.

"Interesting," Ted said. "A lot of girls. A lot of everything in this very fine establishment. I don't know much, Al, but it looks like a five star college to me."

Al laughed.

"You can't lie to me!" someone shouted as they came out of the building that housed the archaeology department. Al and Ted turned and saw him storming away, flailing his arms about and mumbling to himself. He looked young, in his mid-twenties but his face was so darkened with anger that it looked twisted and bent. When he passed Al and Ted on the walkway, he stopped, looked at them and pointed his finger at Al. "I am not crazy," the man said.

"Sure thing, pal," Ted said.

"They're lying to me," the man continued. "They're lying to me."

The man stormed off and left the campus. Ted and Al just watched him walk away with an incredulous look on their faces. Al shook his head and Ted burst out laughing. "Is this everyday for you?" he asked.

"No," Al said. "I wonder who that is."

On cue, Terry Curtis walked up to Ted and Al. "His name is Kent Nelson," Curtis said. "His father was a professor of ancient history here at Kelvin. His father died while on expedition in Kahndaq. Kent believes that the university is hiding something about his father's death. The poor soul, completely undone by grief."

Ted looked over at Curtis with a raised eyebrow. "You are?"

"Terry Curtis, top student here at Kelvin."

Curtis extended his hand and Ted politely shook it. There was something about Curtis that he didn't like, so his grip was just a little bit tighter than usual. "I'm Ted Grant, friend of Al."

Terry Curtis smirked. "Yes. Al the Prat as we like to call him. All in good fun, of course."

Ted tightened his grip even more. Curtis' smirk disappeared and a look of strain replaced it. He managed to yank his hand away from Ted's vice like grip. Ted folded his arms over his chest and smirked at Curtis. "All in good fun, of course."

Curtis quickly changed the subject. "Al, are you going to the social this weekend? I hear it is going to be a good bit of fun."

"I'm still getting ready for classes to begin," Al said. "I don't know, maybe."

"I have some good news," Curtis said. "I have an invitation to tour S.T.A.R. Labs in Central City. It seems only natural that they would want the top student in the world's top college as part of their team. I'll see if I can put in a good word for you. Mary James was, quite impressed when I showed her the letter of invitation."

Al glared at Terry Curtis which only caused him to grin back. "Good for you," Al said through his teeth.

"Everything is going my way," Curtis bragged. "I feel as though I hardly deserve it."

"Maybe you don't," Ted replied.

Curtis shot a glare at Ted Grant but quickly backed away from Ted's wild and intimidating presence. "Perhaps I'll see you two around," Curtis said before scurrying off.

"I don't like him," Ted said after Curtis had left. "I just want to knock his lights out."

Al sighed. "You and me both. I have to get to my dorm, I'll see you back at Morgan's tomorrow, right?"

"Of course," Ted said.

The two shook hands and parted ways. Ted Grant went to go workout, while Al Pratt made his way back to his dorm room. When he got there, there was an envelope waiting for him in his mailbox. He took it inside his dorm room and plopped down on his bed. The envelope was addressed to him and had a return address of S.T.A.R. Labs, Central City. Al ripped open the envelope and pulled out the letter. It was an invitation to tour S.T.A.R. Labs, signed by Jay Garrick himself.

Friday, November 20, 2015

DCU: The Society - Chapter 05

Fawcett City - After the train wreck, 1921

A strange feeling woke Alan Scott up. He sat up on the couch in his father's den and looked around. He was still hurt from the train wreck, but he was bandaged up after a trip to the hospital. The strange feeling that stirred him from his sleep was more like a presence. There was something in the house with him.

Scott's father was gone, having left that morning for his weekly day at the veteran's club down the street. It couldn't have been him. There was someone in the house upstairs, Scott knew it in his gut. He grabbed one his father's old canes to wield as weapon and as quietly as he could, climbed the stairs to the second floor. When he reached the top of the stairs, he noticed the door to his parents old bedroom was open. Since the old man had been confined to the wheelchair, Scott's father had been living in a converted room downstairs.

Moving as quietly and carefully as possible, Scott reached the ajar door and pushed it all the way open. Standing in his parents bedroom, looking at old photographs on the dresser was a strange man in a blue hat and wearing a strange, blue cloak. His hair was white, the top of his face was obscured by some unnatural shadow cast down by the blue hat.

"Who are you?" Scott asked. "What are you doing here?"

The man looked at Scott, a cold, emotionless voice answered. "The Stranger comes, when the Stranger is needed."


A knock at the front door took Scott's attention away from the strange intruder. When he looked back, the stranger was gone, vanished into the air like a phantom. A second knock drew Scott away from the bedroom. He closed the door and made his way down the stairs to the front door. He set down the cane by the door and opened it to find Jay Garrick standing on the front step.

"Alan, are you okay?" Garrick asked, his face haunted by concern and worry. "I heard about the train being derailed so I drove down to see if you were alright."

"I'm fine, come on in."

Scott let Garrick in and the two of them went into the den. Scott sat down on the couch slowly, still wincing from the pain of his injuries. Garrick remained standing, looking over the house and pacing around the room.

"Thank God you're okay," Garrick said. "It's a miracle that you're even alive. You survived a train wreck. What happened?"

"I don't remember," Scott explained. "The last thing I remember is falling asleep on the train and then I woke up in the swamp. I must have been thrown from the train and hit my head pretty good. Everything has been, kind of weird ever since."

"What do you mean weird?" Garrick asked.

Scott sighed. "I remember this glowing. There was something in the swamp, something that I found. Honestly, it seems like a dream. It probably was a dream. But ever since, I've been getting these really strange feelings. I keep getting this feeling that I'm being watched or that something is following me. It's crazy I know."

"Have you talked about this with anyone?"

Scott nodded and leaned back into the couch. "Yeah, the doctors said that it was probably after-effects of the trauma from the train wreck. Shell shock. They gave me some medicine to calm my nerves and help me sleep."

Garrick nodded and slid his hands into his pockets. "I want you to take as long as you need to recover," he said. "Stay here with your father in Fawcett City and get well."

"I have to get back to work," Scott argued, "we got the Ferris pitch coming up."

"I don't want you worrying about that," Garrick insisted. "I'll take care of the Ferris deal. You take care of yourself. Take a few weeks and get back to one hundred percent. You'll be paid in full the entire time. Heal."

"Alright," Scott relented.

Garrick walked over to the bay window and looked out of it. "You know, you look like you've just seen a ghost when you answered the door."

Scott laughed. "I might have, if I believed in ghosts."

"Are you hearing things? Seeing things?"

"I thought I saw a man upstairs, but I think that was just my shell shock. I got to tell you, Jay, I think I'm really shaken by this whole thing. It's like I'm constantly on the edge of a full panic, like I'm about to go hysterical at any moment."

Garrick stepped away from the bay window and looked back at Scott. "You were in a train wreck, Alan," he said. "You've suffered a horrific shock. Quite frankly, you shouldn't be okay right now."

"I just don't know how or why I survived," Scott said.

"Well you did," Garrick replied. "That's all that matters. I got to get back to Central City and sell that miracle plane of yours to Carol Ferris. Take it easy and rest for a few weeks. I'll see you back at S.T.A.R. Labs when you're fit."

"Okay," Scott said. "Jay, thanks for coming."

Garrick smiled. "Of course."

Jay Garrick left the house so that Alan Scott could rest. Scott let out a deep breath and sank back further into the couch and closed his eyes. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was the green glow, beckoning him. A lantern.

Scott opened his eyes and reached into his pants pocket. He felt something in there that shouldn't have been. He pulled it out and held it in his palm, looking down at an emerald ring. Scott remembered the lantern. He remembered where he put it before walking himself to the hospital.

Monday, November 9, 2015

DCU: The Society - Chapter 04

Fawcett City - A hot summer's night in 1921

"Prohibition boys. That is the way into the future."

Cyrus Gold leaned over and placed his palms on the table. His dark, sharply cut suit made for an impressive figure when combined with his bulky, muscular form. His tiny eyes, crooked nose and square jaw made him as ugly as he was dangerous.

"That's why we're out here in the swamp outside of Fawcett City," he continued.

Ace, one of the hoods who followed Gold struck a match on the table. He used it to light himself a cigarette and tossed it away. "You telling me we're going to cook booze out here?"

"Yeah, Ace. That's what I'm telling you."

Cyrus Gold was with his crew, six dangerous men who sat around a table while he stood at the head of it. A single lamp hung from the ceiling, spilling yellow light down on them while the rest of the desolate cabin was drenched in complete darkness. Nerves, the runt of the group, fiddled with his bowler hat.

"I don't like being out here boss," Nerves said. "They say there's something out here, some kind of thing in the swamp. They say it hunts men and drags them under the water to drown."

"What a load of bull," Gold replied. "Out here we can produce alcohol and sell it to the speakeasies in town. It's easy money, boys. We'll be living like kings."

Ace took a drag of his cigarette. "I don't know anything about making booze, boss. I don't think any of us do."

"Then we find someone who does," Cyrus Gold said. "We're smart guys, I'm sure we can figure something out if we put our heads to it. The rednecks in the Smoky Mountains have been making moonshine for years. If those hillbillies can do it, then us cultured city gents sure can."

At that moment, something slammed into the side of the cabin from outside. Cyrus Gold turned on a heel towards the noise. Ace slowly raised to his feet, his cigarette dangling from his mouth. The other men pulled their guns out of their holsters and stood up as well. When something else slammed into the other side of the cabin, Nerves leaped to his feet, knocking over his chair.

"Something's out there," Nerves shouted.

"Shut up!" Cyrus Gold hollered back. "There ain't nothing out there but some chemicals that I brought for the distillery."

The glass pane of the east facing window suddenly shattered. Cyrus and the rest of his gang spun to look. A powerful wind began to blow through the cabin, causing the lamp to swing wildly back and forth. Noticing that his feet felt wet, Cyrus looked down and saw water coming up from beneath the floorboards.

"The cabin's sinking," he said.

Ace didn't hear Cyrus. He moved over to the shattered window, awestruck by a glowing green light out in the swamp. "There's something out there, boss," Ace said. "Something is glowing out there."

Everything went quiet. The silence was eerie. There were no crickets or insects. No wind. It was all perfectly still. In that deathly silence, the floorboards started to creak. The floor began to rise and fall, slowly as if it was breathing.

"We need to get out of here," Nerves whispered.

The floorboards in the middle of the cabin exploded. The table was thrown across the room and the gas lamp fell and went out in the rising swamp water. The hoods stumbled back from the explosion point, the cabin now completely dark except for the bit of moonlight that came through the shattered window.

Out of the fury and confusion in the heart of the cabin, something rose. A great, hulking mass of plant and man roared as it broke its way through the floor into the cabin. Nerves turned and fled, busting out through the door and making a mad sprint for the car. The others in the cabin opened fire with their guns, but the bullets had no effect on the swampy horror that terrorized them.

The monster swung its tree-like arms at the hoods, hitting each of them with a deadly force in turn. Their bodies were whipped and thrown about the cabin like toys. Ace opened fire but a vine snaked through the shattered window and snapped itself around his neck. The vine yanked back and dragged Ace through the window and into the swamp screaming. The only man remaining was Cyrus Gold, who let out bloody war cry and charged the creature.

His shoulder slammed into the monster's stomach. His anvil like fists hammered and pounded at the creature. The thing grabbed Cyrus by his jacket and threw him with such force that he broke through the cabin wall and fell into the water outside. After a second or two, Cyrus managed to get back onto his feet just in time to see Nerves drive off in the car. Cyrus spit blood in the swamp and then turned back towards the cabin, fist clenched and ready for a fight, but the monster did not appear.

Cyrus turned, looking around the swamp. He saw the glowing green light that Ace had mentioned. Curious, Cyrus started moving towards it, wading through the thigh deep swamp water. As he got closer to the source of the light, he began to feel something in the water. It was some kind of power. He neared the green glow, becoming enchanted by it, but the spell was broken when the thing burst from the swamp water in front of him. Cyrus reared back his fist, ready to strike, but the creature was quick. The monster plunged its hand into Cyrus Gold's chest and ripped out his heart.

Meanwhile, racing down the dirt road, Nerves could barely keep a grip on the steering wheel. He checked the rear view mirror, but could only see an empty darkness behind him. His knuckles were white, his eyes were wide with fear and his heart felt as though it was about to burst through his chest.

The car's headlights began to flicker. Nerves hit the dashboard, hoping that would keep them on. They flickered again, so Nerves hit the dashboard even harder. They flickered a third time. Nerves looked down at the dashboard, screamed and slammed the side of his fist into it. When he looked back up, he saw the swamp monster standing in the road in front of him. Nerves let out a terrified scream and yanked the steering wheel as hard as he could.

The car swerved, missing the creature but Nerves couldn't regain control. He was almost out of the swamp and onto the highway when the car hit a bump in the shoulder and spun out of control. It crashed and rolled several times, glass breaking and flying everywhere. Nerves was thrown about the inside of the car until it finally rolled to a stop.

By some miracle, Nerves was still alive. He kicked out the driver's door window and started to climb out of the wreck. He had broken an arm and several ribs in the crash. A light appeared behind him. A train whistle blew. Nerves turned and screamed as he saw the late night train from Central City come roaring at him.

The engineer pulled the brakes, trying to stop the train but it was no use. The train hit the car with maximum force. Half of the car was obliterated while the other half was caught under the train itself. There was the sound of scraping metal and screams and then a loud crash as the train derailed and smashed into the swamp.

He didn't know how he got there. The last thing that Alan Scott remembered was falling asleep on the train. He found himself in the swamp outside of Fawcett City. Scott was hurt, but he could walk.

He was wet from the swamp water that he found himself sitting in, his back resting against an old tree. Scott stood up and looked around in the darkness, trying to get his sense of direction. That is when he saw it, the glowing green light coming from the swamp. Without knowing why, Alan Scott began to limp his way towards it, moving slowly through the swamp water. As he neared it, he felt a change around him. There was a strange power coursing through the swamp, something ancient and mysterious.

Alan Scott came to the source of the glow. He reached into the swamp water and pulled from it an emerald ring. He slid the ring into his pocket and reached back down into the water again. His hands gripped something solid, something that felt metallic. Alan Scott pulled it from the water and held up a green lantern, it's magical glow bathing his face.

Sunday, November 8, 2015

SNL, Donald Trump and the OMG! Death of Comedy!

A lot of people in the USA probably didn't know that Donald Trump was on SNL. Of those that did know, most probably didn't care. However, for some websites like, Donald Trump was the harbinger of doom upon the world of late night comedy. Trump's hosting of SNL was a betrayal! It was in bad taste! How could have they done such a thing?

Donald Trump is an unfunny clown. Unfunny clowns belong on Saturday Night Live.

If you need to know whether is trustworthy in offering the cutting edge in news and political opinion, know that suffers under the delusion that SNL is still somehow culturally relevant.

It hasn't been. Not in over a decade. In fact, it's last gasp of relevancy happened when Will Ferrel was still a cast member. When we entered the G.W. Bush era, SNL became a relic of another time and The Daily Show ascended to the top of American satire.

Face it, Saturday Night Live is probably the one place that Donald Trump could do the LEAST amount of cultural damage. Other than Pol Pot doing a one man show in Antarctica, I can't think of a single cultural vacuum as empty and lonely as that of SNL. Here we have a man who is a sad, unfunny relic performing on a show that is itself a sad, unfunny relic. How could have SNL done such a thing? How could they have not?

Yes, Donald Trump has said awful things about a lot of different people. He's probably a lousy person. This all perfectly valid. But this isn't the death of comedy or the death of SNL. SNL died years ago, it's just been shambling on in a drooling, braindead state for about a decade now. For the love of God, take it out back, put a bullet in SNL's head and let it slip out of its misery. Enough is enough.

After all, it's all fun and games until the clown accidentally set his toupee on fire.

DCU: The Society - Chapter 03

Star City - 1921

Mary James was the most beautiful girl that he had ever seen. Her smile was as bright as the sun, her face the visage of Helen herself. That was how Al Pratt saw her. How she saw him, well, she didn't seem to. At barely over five feet tall and only ninety-eight pounds or so, Al Pratt was easy to miss. Even at the Kelvin Institute of Inquiry, the most prestigious college in the world, Al Pratt somehow managed to disappear into a crowd. The professors always knew that he was brilliant, but Terry Curtis always managed to grab everyone's attention.

So, Al Pratt sat under a tree and ate an apple while reading physics. He didn't mind being lost in the shuffle of the busy college, but he would have liked to be noticed by Mary James, just once. On his way back to his dorm, Al spotted a flier that was being whipped around by the wind. He managed to catch it and smoothed it out so he could read it.

"Learn to box," it read. "Joe Morgan can turn you into more of a man."

Al read the flier and thought of Mary James. There were very few moments throughout the day that he didn't. He folded up the flier and slid it into his book on physics. Besides, it would be nice to learn one skill that Terry Curtis didn't have, he thought.

That weekend, Al Pratt took the boxcar into the city and found Joe Morgan's gym. It was in an old, seedy part of town. There were rough sorts of men who lurked about in the alley where the door to the gym was located. Al started to get worried about being robbed. He hurried as quickly through he alley as he could and rushed through the door of the gym.

When he blundered into the gym, nearly falling on his face as he did so, Al Pratt noticed that everyone was staring at him. The gym wasn't much. It was small and hot, there was a shoddy, old ring in the center and some equipment placed haphazardly around.

Joe Morgan looked at the scrawny shrimp that stumbled through his door and let out a deep breath. "I imagine you're hear to learn how to fight," he said. "Well, I can teach you."

Al smiled. "Really?"

"Pay your dues and I'll teach you how to throw a punch," Joe Morgan said.

Al nodded.

"Grab a locker, kid." Joe Morgan spit some chewing tobacco into a metal bucket that sat next to the ring. He watched with amusement as the kid stumbled his way through the gym, towards the lockers, looking like he was lost in the woods.

When Al reached the lockers there was another young man, about his age, taping up his fists. He was big and naturally athletic, but looked sort of rough and wild. Al opened the locker next to the other guy's and started putting his books inside.

"Physics, huh?" the young man said, eyeing his books.

"Yeah," Al replied nervously. "I study at Kelvin, here in Star City."

The young man nodded and finished taping up his fists. "What's your name?"

"I'm Al Pratt."

The rough, young man extended his hand out to Al. "Ted Grant."

S.T.A.R. Labs, Central City

Alan Scott had just finished his first design. It was bold, it was brilliant, it was nearly impossible to build. Scott knew it. They said that Central City was the city of miracles. Scott was banking on that being true with this design. He stood at his desk, hands on his hips and pencil tucked behind his ear, and stared down at the blueprints and design sheets. He would have to offer the pitch to end all pitches for them to even try to produce a prototype of this thing.

So deep in thought, Scott didn't even hear Jay Garrick come into his office. Garrick knocked on the wall, a wide smile on his face. "Am I interrupting?"

Scott looked over at Garrick, finally noticing him and laughed. "Not at all," Scott said. "It's done, but they're not going to like it."

"No. They'll love it." Garrick walked over and looked over the blueprints and designs himself. "You certainly aren't going to make it easy on them."

"Or cheap," Scott said with a chuckle. "It'll cost a pretty penny, that I can tell you."

"It'll be worth it," Garrick said. "The Blackhawk Squadron will be most advanced air combat fighters in the world."

"I thought the Great War was the war to end all wars," Scott said as he walked over to his office window. He sat on the sill and relaxed as the cool breeze flowed in. "We're supposed to have a century of peace now. Yet, here I am, designing advanced fighting machines to reign death on the world."

"That's what Ferris wants."


Jay Garrick set the blueprints down and looked over at Scott. "The military doesn't want another Red Baron situation, nor does Carol Ferris. Her father was shot down and killed by him after all. The crazy old man shouldn't have even being flying in that war, but he was a hell of a pilot and engineer and his country needed him. War isn't going to end, Alan. The next one will be coming right around the corner. Probably sooner than we think. It's a brilliant design."

"Thanks," Scott said with barely half a heart.

Garrick grinned and slid a hand into his pocket. "Perhaps you would rather be working with heavy water and quantum mechanics."

"No thanks," Scott replied. "I'd prefer to keep to things I can actually understand. I like concrete mathematics."

"Speaking of which," Garrick said with a snap of his fingers. "There is a list of potential recruits I want you to take a look at. There is some real possibility out there and I want your opinion on it. I want this to be the absolute center of scientific and technological innovation. I want S.T.A.R. Labs to be something truly special."

"Then you shouldn't have hired me," Scott chuckled.

Garrick smiled and nodded. "Probably. I thought you were going down to Fawcett City this weekend."

"I wanted to finish up my work so I could take a few extra days off," Scott explained.

"Good. Give your father our best wishes." Garrick took one more look at the designs and smiled. "Brilliant," he said before quickly walking out of Scott's office.

Alan Scott wasn't so sure, but he was always one for self doubt. That afternoon, he went home and packed his suitcase. He was going to take the night train down to Fawcett City and be there by morning when his father got up. He planned to sleep on the train. After a shower and a change of clothes, he took a cab to the train station and boarded the train heading to Fawcett City. It was already getting dark when he got on. It was times like this, when everything is going great that the world likes to throw a curveball. Well, fate had one hell of a curveball in store for Alan Scott on that train.

DCU: The Society - Chapter 01

1931 - Sol System, Somewhere between Earth and Mars

Hal Jordan crash landed on the moon, his body skipping and sliding across its surface until it came to a merciful stop. The ring's shielding protected him somewhat, but he felt serious damage done to him from the blast of yellow power that hit him. Hal looked over his shoulder and saw the Earth, his Earth. The planet that he was so desperate to protect. His ring was losing power quickly, the yellow energy that Sinestro had harvested sapped the power from his ring. It was an insidious weapon for someone who was once a Green Lantern to use against his former friends.

Blood trickled down his face from underneath his emerald mask. He was bruised, bleeding and exhausted. If his power ring failed, the protective shield would disappear and Hal Jordan would die in the cold vacuum of space. Fortunately, he was prepared. Hal took off and flew over the surface of his home planet's moon to find a particular crater.

The Green Lantern Corps was in a desperate and ugly battle with the Sinestro Corps that started just above Mars and had been working its way closer to Earth. Many Green Lanterns had already died, but Killowog and Tomar-Re pushed the line of Green Lanterns forward. The tide of battle had turned against the Sinestro Corps. Their ranks were breaking, yellow rings were dropping at an increasing speed. Seeing this clearly, Gleen turned toward Sinestro and pleaded with him.

"We are undone," Gleen shouted. "Retreat now, while we still have a chance!"

"No," Sinestro growled. The Earth was now in sight, he could see the blue jewel of the Sol System for himself. The sight of it only increased his lust for bloodshed. "Abin Sur died on that planet for a reason. He knew the Gaurdians were hiding something on that planet and I'm going to find out what it is."

"Sinestro, we're dying!"

Sinestro whipped his head towards Gleen, his eyes maniacal and bloodshot. "So die!" he roared. When Gleen shrank back a bit, Sinestro's mad gaze returned to the Earth. "I am not undone yet. Bring me the Jewel of Parallax."

"You''re mad," Gleen whispered.

"No Gleen, I am determined."

Unsure of what else to do, Gleen simply nodded and did as he was ordered. Sinestro had harvested the power of Parallax to help create the yellow power rings they used to battle the Green Lanterns. The Weaponers of Qward had fashioned him his rings from this power, but they created an ultimate weapon with the excess of the yellow energy siphoned from Parallax. A single, yellow jewel that contained the more unstable elements of Parallax's power. A final weapon that only a mad man would dare use.


Scanning the surface of the moon, Hal Jordan had found the crater that he was looking for. He flew into the cavern where he kept a spare battery. The shape and color of the battery is where the Green Lanterns had gotten their name from. He took the battery and started recharging his ring when Salakk's voice started coming through.

"Jordan," Salakk said as his green image appeared and hovered over Hal's ring. "I'm getting some strange readings here. Whatever energy that Sinestro used to make his yellow rings, there has been a massive spike of it just over Mars. It's highly unstable and is warping space and time. Jordan, whatever Sinestro is doing right now, its going to consume the entire system and everything in it."

"How do I stop it?" Jordan asked.

"I have no idea," Salakk admitted. "I have never seen anything like this before. I've been checking the archives but I'm coming up with nothing. The instability is being generated from a single, fixed point no bigger than the palm of a human hand. Hit that thing with everything you got and maybe it will shut it down."

"Are you sure?"

"Not at all," Salakk said. "But we don't have much of a choice. Get going now, Jordan. You have seconds before this thing goes critical."

Hal Jordan took his battery and flew out of the moon crater. He replenished his ring as he flew back towards Mars. The speed of the Green Lantern ring brought him to Mars within seconds. Over Mars was swirling, yellow mass of madness almost as large as the planet itself. Underneath it, was Sinestro holding what appeared to be a yellow jewel over his head.

"What are you doing, Sinestro?" Hal yelled out.

"Winning the war," Sinestro replied coldly.

"Stop this madness," Hal begged. "This is not what Abin Sur would have wanted."

"This isn't about Abin Sur anymore," Sinestro said. "This about the truth that the Guardians have kept from us. The truth that Abin Sur and others have died for. They would send their own to be slaughtered, rather than letting the truth into the light. Then, they have the audacity to call me mad!"

"You'll kill us all!"

"Perhaps, Jordan. However, the sin of blood will be on the Guardian's hands, not mine."

Hal Jordan couldn't waste anymore time trying to bring Sinestro back to reason. Hal rushed forward, holding his battery out in front of him. Killowog, Tomar-Re and the remaining Green Lanterns flanked his sides in one final push. Hal saw the glimmer of the yellow jewel in Sinestro's hand. He put his power ring against the battery and pointed the other end at the jewel in Sinestro's grip.

"In brightest day, in blackest night," Hal began to chant. He began to push his ring's power back into the battery. "No evil shall escape my sight. Let all who worship evil's might, fear my power..."

The sudden influx of power caused the battery to overload. It started glow and rumble.

"Green Lantern's light."

Overloaded, Hal Jordan's battery let out a beam of pure green energy. It shot across the dark void of space and struck the Jewel of Parallax. Sinestro screamed and let go of the jewel, the force of the green energy sending him rocketing back towards Jupiter. The other Green Lanterns broke off from formation while Hal Jordan continued flying forward, blasting the yellow jewel with all of the energy that he could. The yellow, spiral of madness contracted suddenly back into the jewel. Hal Jordan continued to push forward, blasting the jewel until it finally exploded in a yellow mass.

Tomar-Re and Killowog watched in horror as Hal Jordan's body was disintegrated by the blast. His ring and lantern was sucked into the implosion that followed the initial blast. Calm had returned to the void of space over Mars, as if nothing had happened. The ring and lantern had vanished from the known universe.

852 B.C.E. - Kahndaq, Earth

A shepherd had stepped out of his tent to take in the night's air. The moon was full and bright, the stars sparkled in their brilliance. He leaned on his staff and admired them for a few minutes. He liked to do that each night before bed. However, something strange had caught his eye. A green comet that flashed across the heavens and smashed into the earth just over the horizon.

The shepherd got onto his camel and rode out towards the direction of the comet. He came upon a blasted dune of sand. Climbing off his camel, he looked over the ground. He saw something glimmer in the moonlight. He moved quickly towards it and pulled an emerald ring from the sand. Then, the shepherd noticed something else. From the sand he pulled out a strange lantern that had a feint, green glow inside.