Chapter 9

Green Lantern's Blight

Time: 1702 AA / 1818 AD

Location: The Void Between Galaxies, Returning to Sector 3601

The oppressive darkness of the Void stretched endlessly behind me, but I didn't look back. The fortress, with its pulsing veins of dark energy and writhing tendrils, was already a distant blot, swallowed by the void's eternal hunger. My mind buzzed with calculations, strategies, and a simmering frustration I couldn't shake.

I'd confronted the threat, found its hiding place, and walked away with my life. That should've been enough.

But it wasn't.

All I'd managed to do was scare it into temporary retreat. And fear, I knew, was a flimsy leash. The fortress—and whatever intelligence was behind it—would return. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for years, but it would come back. Stronger. Smarter. And next time, it might not hesitate.

I clenched my fists, my knuckles aching under the strain.

++ Sector 3601 boundary approaching. ETA: 12 minutes. ++

The Ring's voice was calm, indifferent. It didn't care that I'd barely accomplished anything. It didn't care that my so-called victory felt hollow. It just reported the facts, oblivious to the weight pressing on my chest.

I glanced ahead, the familiar glow of Sector 3601's outer boundary shimmering in the distance like a protective bubble. Behind that line was my sanctuary, my kingdom. Everything I'd spent centuries building. Everything I owned.

And right now, it felt more fragile than ever.

Time: 12 Minutes Later

Location: Orbit of Stupendous McAwesomeface III

As I entered orbit, the world below unfolded like a polished gem—rolling plains of sapphire grass, crystalline forests that shimmered with unnatural beauty, and golden rivers winding their way to iridescent oceans. The planet's moons hung like sentinels in the sky, their defensive grids subtly pulsing with protective energy.

It was mine, all of it. And no one—not some interdimensional parasite, not the cold indifference of the universe—was going to take it from me.

I descended through the atmosphere, the air rushing past in a familiar embrace. The palace came into view, its crystalline spires reflecting the late afternoon light. At the landing platform, Thala stood waiting, arms crossed. Her crimson cape rippled behind her in the wind, and her eyes narrowed as she watched me approach.

I touched down gently, dismissing the green glow around me. My feet barely hit the ground before Thala spoke.

"You were gone longer than you said."

"Things got complicated," I replied, my voice flat. I didn't have the patience for pleasantries.

Her gaze drilled into me, searching for cracks in my composure. "Did you find the source?"

"I found a fortress," I said, the word tasting bitter. "A stronghold buried deep in the Void. They're hiding, but they're not done. They'll come back."

She absorbed that, her jaw tightening. "So, what's the plan?"

I exhaled slowly, weighing my options. "We fortify. Increase defenses. No one gets in or out without us knowing. I want every inch of this Sector monitored."

Thala's brow furrowed. "That's not a plan. That's paranoia."

"Paranoia keeps us alive," I shot back. "We can't afford to let our guard down."

"Michael," her voice softened, "we can't just hide forever. You said it yourself—they know we exist now. We need allies, resources, something beyond this Sector."

I shook my head. "Allies mean weakness. If we ask for help, we're telling the universe we can't handle our own problems. That paints a target on our backs."

"And if we stand alone," she said, frustration seeping into her tone, "we'll eventually be overwhelmed. No one survives alone forever."

I turned away, my jaw clenching. She wasn't wrong. But the idea of relying on others—of needing anyone outside my carefully constructed world—twisted my stomach. Trusting others was how you got betrayed. How you lost everything.

I wasn't ready for that risk. Not yet.

"Let's focus on what we can control," I said, forcing the conversation back into familiar territory. "Up the surveillance grid. Double the shield strength. We make this Sector a fortress. If they want a fight, they'll regret picking one with us."

Thala exhaled sharply, but she didn't argue. She knew me well enough to understand I wouldn't budge. Not now.

"Fine," she said. "But don't think you can keep this up forever."

I didn't respond. Instead, I turned toward the palace, the weight of my decisions pressing down with every step.

Time: Later That Night

Location: The Citadel, Personal Chambers

The Citadel was quiet, its vast halls and chambers bathed in the soft glow of bioluminescent crystals. I sat in my private chamber, staring out the floor-to-ceiling window at the landscape below. The plains stretched into the distance, peaceful and still under the twin moons' light.

It looked perfect. But perfection was an illusion.

My mind drifted back to the fortress in the Void—the pulsing shadows, the writhing tendrils, the sense of ancient malice lurking beneath the surface. I'd thought I could scare it off, assert dominance through sheer force of will. And I had, for now. But the cracks in my strategy were clear.

Fear and intimidation weren't enough. Not against something like that.

A hollow feeling gnawed at my gut, a whisper of doubt I didn't want to acknowledge. For centuries, I'd believed that I could out-think, out-fight, and outlast any threat. That if I planned carefully enough, built high enough walls, and struck first when necessary, I could keep my world safe.

But now…

Now I wondered if my walls were high enough. If my strength was enough.

The doubt was like a splinter in my mind, tiny but persistent.

I clenched my fists, the Ring pulsing on my finger.

"Not yet," I muttered. "I'm not beaten yet."

Growth wasn't something I had time for. Reflection was a luxury. But the thought lingered, just beyond reach.

Maybe, one day, I'll need more than just walls and fear.

But not tonight.

Tonight, the walls would hold.