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48: Marvel's Green Lantern, To Catch a Phoenix Pt.3
🕑 Added 2025-10-31 17:37:26 +0000 UTCMax POV
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Max thought as he was punched back by another devastating blow.
Alert: ten other signatures have appeared. They’re now engaging Firehair, Jade reported urgently.
“Fuck! That’s not good!” Max said as he found his bearings in the sky only to be attacked again by his assailant.
His assailant, who was also his friend.
Kallark. The Praetor of the Imperial Guard.
The Gladiator himself.
“Kallark, listen to me!” Max said, raising a vibranium-mimicking barrier to partially shield the next blast.
“Don’t speak, cur!” Gladiator snarled, his voice filled with righteous fury as he unleashed a volley of energy blasts combined with his heat vision twin beams of crimson power that could melt through even the toughest starship hulls.
All of it bounced harmlessly off the shield, deflecting away in different directions.
“She is not here to—” Max began, but Gladiator dove and punched the shield so hard that cracks spidered across its surface.
He did it again and again, each impact sending shockwaves through the air. Max kept restoring it, pouring more energy into the construct.
“I thought you an honorable hero,” Gladiator said, each word punctuated by another strike. “And yet here you are, heralding our doom!”
“I told you, she is in control of the Phoenix!” Max shouted back.
Gladiator struck with such force that the shield shattered completely, fragments of green energy exploding outward like glass.
“Fine,” Max said, his expression hardening. “If that’s how you want to do it.”
Max created five large Jaegers, each one standing over two hundred feet tall. They moved to surround Gladiator, weapons systems coming online plasma cannons and railguns targeting the Strontian warrior.
While Gladiator was occupied, Max formed one of his most powerful constructs: the Skrull laser cannon, a massive directed-energy weapon based on secret Skrull designs he had stolen. The barrel extended from his left arm, energy coils beginning to glow. He aimed it at the spot where Kallark was battling the Jaegers, which were firing their weapons simultaneously at him, all converging on the Praetor.
Max watched as Kallark overpowered them with his heat vision, twin beams cutting through construct metal like butter. Then he flew through them, shattering the mechs with pure kinetic force his fists reducing the massive machines to fragments.
He is powerful, Jade observed.
“Of course he is,” Max muttered. “He’s basically Superman.”
Max fired the weapon. The beam screamed through the air, trailing ionized particles. Kallark dodged at the last second; the blast passed so close it singed his cape. Then he struck Max, moving faster than expected, hitting him so hard that Max slammed into the ground, cratering the earth on impact.
Kallark dove to deliver the finishing blow.
As his fist descended, Max caught it in both hands.
The impact triggered a shockwave around them a circular blast that flattened trees and hurled debris in every direction. The ground beneath Max’s feet cracked and shattered, a crater spreading outward in concentric rings.
But Max held firm.
Kallark’s eyes widened in shock.
Max had formed an armor construct around himself darker green than his usual constructs, almost black.
He grinned as Kallark hammered at him with all his might—blows that could shatter a small moon. Max stood immovable, each punch absorbed and dissipated by the armor.
“How?” Kallark demanded, confusion and anger warring in his expression.
“Uru–vibranium alloy,” Max said, letting it sink in. “My turn.”
His grin vanished, replaced by anger—anger at being attacked by a friend, at Firehair being hurt, at himself for letting this happen. He should have been more careful.
Max punched Kallark.
Hard.
The blow crashed into Kallark’s solar plexus, driving the breath from his lungs. The Praetor’s eyes went wide. Max kept punching. Each strike landed with devastating force, the Uru–vibranium construct amplifying his power beyond anything he’d managed before. Kallark’s jaw snapped aside. Ribs cracked. Blood flew from his mouth and nose. The Praetor was getting hurt badly, trying to defend but unable to match Max’s onslaught especially with Jade helping with combinations of strikes that Kallark couldn't predict.
Then Jade spoke, urgent: Max, they’ve taken down Firehair. She’s being transported away.
“What?!” Max blurted, stunned. “How the fuck did they do that?”
He threw one more hard punch at Kallark, caught him on the temple, sending the Praetor crashing to the ground, then shot toward where Firehair was being taken.
He didn’t get far.
Kallark caught him by the legs. The Praetor was bloodied, his face a mess of cuts and bruises, but his eyes still burned with determination. “I am not done with you yet, Lantern!” he growled, hurling Max away with tremendous force.
Max tumbled through the air, regained his bearings, and conjured ten more Jaeger constructs that materialized around Kallark to keep him occupied. As they engaged the Praetor, Max streaked toward the others transporting Firehair.
He fired missile constructs dozens of them streaking through the sky on green contrails.
They detonated against what looked like force fields. Manta, Max thought, frustrated. It would be difficult to fight all eleven of them.
Warning: energy attack incoming, Jade alerted.
Max raised a shield just in time to block Kallark’s heat vision. The Strontian warrior had already destroyed the Jaegers and was coming for him again. They grappled midair, trading blows, neither giving ground. Each impact sent shockwaves rippling outward.
Once again, they both slammed into the ground.
Max stood, breathing hard. “Kallark, for the final time she is not dangerous! I would never bring harm upon the Shi’ar! You have to trust me!”
Kallark wasn’t having it. He charged again, blood streaming down his face, his confidence somehow intact despite his injuries.
Max created a gun-like construct, mimicked the effect of Anti-Metal vibranium, and fired it at Kallark. The beam should have destabilized his molecular structure should have dropped him instantly.
But to Max’s surprise, Kallark tanked it. It hurt, he screamed, his body convulsing but it didn’t do what Max hoped. Kallark kept coming.
“Observation: the Gladiator’s confidence remains at peak levels. His power is directly proportional to his self-assurance. He believes completely in the righteousness of his cause,” Jade reported.
“Fuck,” Max muttered as Kallark reached him and they started slugging it out once more.
This time, Max kept punching while emitting Anti-Metal vibrations from his forearms with each strike. Every blow hurt Kallark more, the molecular disruption bypassing his invulnerability attacking him at a fundamental level.
And Max kept talking, trying to chip away at Kallark’s confidence.
“You captured the Phoenix,” Max said between punches. “Do you know what you’ve done? I had placated the Phoenix! She wanted vengeance on you on the Shi’ar for hunting her hosts for millennia. And I convinced her not to. I convinced the Phoenix to spare your empire!”
Kallark faltered slightly, doubt flickering in his eyes.
“Now?” Max continued, driving a devastating blow into Kallark’s ribs. “Now she’ll destroy the empire. You’ve guaranteed the very thing you feared!”
“The Phoenix can be imprisoned!” Kallark shot back, but his voice was less certain now.
“You’re wrong,” Max said coldly, landing a combination left, right, uppercut. “You’re so fucking wrong. The Phoenix Force cannot be contained. And Firehair Firehair is a perfect host. The strongest host the Phoenix has ever had. She didn’t give in to its destructive tendencies; she controlled it.”
Another punch, this one breaking through Kallark’s guard.
“But you?” Max’s voice burned with fury. “You attacked her, imprisoned her. Do you think the Phoenix will forgive this slight?”
Kallark’s confidence visibly dipped. His eyes widened with horror at what he might have done. And with that decline in confidence came a decline in power.
Max felt it instantly. Kallark’s punches slowed; their force diminished. His invulnerability dropped several levels.
Max took advantage.
He grew multiple arms from his armor six additional limbs that struck from every angle at once. The Anti-Metal vibrations intensified, disrupting Kallark’s molecular cohesion. Each blow landed with surgical precision jaw, solar plexus, liver, kidneys, temple.
Kallark tried to defend, tried to fly, but Max snared him with construct chains.
“Get over here,” Max said, yanking him back and then delivered a final, devastating punch. Kallark hit the ground, heaving, broken. His armor was cracked, his face bloodied, his body barely able to move.
Max stood over him, breathing hard. “I’m sorry,” he said, and meant it. “I’m going to rescue Firehair, and I promise not to hurt the Imperial Guard. I understand your position you were trying to do what you thought was right. I get it.”
Kallark only glared up at him, pride and pain warring in his eyes. Then he asked, his voice barely a whisper, “What you said… was it true?”
Max knelt beside him. “Yes. Firehair is in control. She uses the Phoenix’s power to protect life, not destroy it.”
Kallark was about to speak again when his eyes widened in alarm, looking past Max.
Warning: portal opening directly behind you, Jade said urgently.
Max turned to see Nightside emerging from a shadow portal, Gram in her hand. She was already mid-strike, the blade gleaming with cosmic fire.
He threw up a shield, but the sword sliced through it like paper the combination of legendary Asgardian craftsmanship and the Phoenix Force making it unstoppable. The blade impaled him through the abdomen, punching through his Uru-vibranium armor.
Max collapsed as she wrenched the sword free with a vicious twist and kicked him to the ground. “You got me,” he managed through gritted teeth.
She raised the sword for the killing strike, flames dancing along its edge. Max created constructs—anything to stop her.
But Kallark, broken and bloodied, threw himself between them. “No,” he croaked. “Nightside, stop.”
“Praetor, he—” Nightside began.
Internal damage is severe, Jade reported clinically. Gram, infused with its own magic and the Phoenix Force, has caused catastrophic damage to multiple organs. You will survive, but it will take considerable time to heal.
“We should kill him now,” Nightside insisted, blade still raised. “He’s an enemy of the empire. He brought the Phoenix here.”
Kallark looked at her, then at Max bleeding on the ground, then back to Nightside. “It’s time to leave. I fear… we have made a mistake.”
“But, Praetor—”
“We are leaving. Now.” Kallark’s voice was firm despite his injuries. He seized Nightside’s arm, and they vanished into a portal of shadow.
Max lay there, blood pooling around him, staunched only by emergency constructs he had created to seal the wound. It hurt a deep, burning agony that radiated through his whole body. He wasn’t going to die, but every minute spent healing was time lost not saving Firehair.
He laughed. “Never thought she’d become a damsel in distress.”
Humor is good in situations like this, Jade said. It indicates cognitive function is intact.
Max laughed again, wincing at the pain it caused.
Administering emergency medical protocols, Jade continued. Nanite repair systems engaging. Pain suppressors activating. Estimated time to mobility: ten hours. Estimated time to full combat readiness: three Earth days.
As the ring dulled his pain and his body began to knit itself back together, Max felt himself fading into sleep.
The last thing he saw before darkness claimed him was a pair of violet hands gentle, careful as they lifted him and carried him away.
=========
Max awoke with a start.
His eyes snapped open and he immediately sat up, his hand flying to his stomach where Gram had impaled him. He felt… good. Healthy. The pain was gone. He lifted his shirt and examined the area no scar remained, just smooth skin as if nothing had happened.
“Fucking super-sword. Too powerful,” Max muttered.
It’s good to see you awake, Max, Jade said, her voice carrying a note of relief.
“It’s good to be back,” Max said, flexing his hands, feeling the ring’s power flowing through him unimpeded. “How long has it been?”
Your injuries have been fully healed, and you are at full operational capacity, Jade reported. It has only been one Earth day.
“But you said three—” Max started.
I had some help, Jade said.
Max realized he was in a small hut, walls woven from violet reeds, a simple bed beneath him. He rose and stepped outside into warm sunlight.
The tribe of aliens he had saved—the tribe of outcasts—were all there, looking at him with joy and relief. When they saw him emerge, healthy and whole, they cheered.
They found you after the battle and cared for you, Jade explained. They used a strange herb with remarkable regenerative properties. I have scanned and fully mapped its molecular composition. It will be very helpful for future medical applications.
Warmth spread through Max’s chest at their kindness despite all they’d endured. He approached the leader the old woman who had first spoken to Firehair and bowed his head.
“Thank you,” he said sincerely.
The old woman smiled. “How could we not help our savior? You gave us paradise.” Her expression dimmed. “The demons took your wife, great god. The goddess of fire.”
Max laughed internally at Firehair being called his wife. “I am going to save her.”
The old woman studied him with concern. “Are you well enough to leave? You were gravely injured.”
“Yes,” Max said firmly. “And I need to go now. Every moment counts.”
Max, I’ve found where they took Firehair, Jade said. I tracked her signature to the Great Void.
Max knew the place immediately. He had heard of it during his and Odin’s initial travels through Shi’ar space, a region of absolute emptiness, no stars for light-years in any direction. A place where the Shi’ar conducted their most secret projects.
“Thank you, Jade,” Max said. Then he turned to the tribe. “Be well. Thank you for your help. I won’t forget what you’ve done for me.”
He began to float, rising into the air. The tribe below cheered, calling out blessings and prayers to their “great god.”
Max took off at full speed, breaking the atmosphere in seconds and entering space.
Max, I may have a contingency if the Phoenix decides to take revenge on the Shi’ar, Jade said.
“What?” Max asked, intrigued.
I was able to extract data from Mimir’s head about the Phoenix as well. I found some interesting methods used to neutralize it before. I believe we can replicate one.
“Well, let’s keep that as Plan B,” Max said. “Hopefully I can talk her down myself if anything happens.”
We will reach the prison sooner if we use the nearby jump gate, Jade advised, marking it on his HUD.
“Yes, let’s,” Max agreed.
Before he reached the gate, he began forming a construct around himself—something he planned to use to terrify the Shi’ar, to show them exactly what happens when you take someone he cares about.
The construct took the shape of a colossal humanoid. It grew larger and larger as he passed into the jump gate—and continued to expand as he exited it.
By the time he emerged in the Great Void, the construct was the size of a moon.
.
.
.
Kallark | Gladiator POV
The prison built to hold the Phoenix was a sight to behold.
Kallark gazed up at it as he and Nightside arrived after defeating the Lantern.
The planet orbited a black hole, a massive singularity slowly feeding on a small, dying star. The star’s matter stretched in an endless stream toward the event horizon, creating brilliant arcs of light that spiraled into oblivion. Otherwise, there was only darkness, an absolute void broken by the accretion disk’s glow and the eerie light bent around the black hole’s gravity well.
No stars not for light-years in any direction. They were deep in the Great Void, a region even the boldest explorers avoided.
The planet’s surface was covered in structures crystalline formations that glowed faintly with contained power. M’Kraan Crystal imitations, vast quantities of them, arranged in geometric patterns that hurt to look at directly.
“Now that is a prison that can hold the Phoenix,” Nightside said at his side. She still held the sword she had used to wound the Lantern; its blade no longer flamed, but power still emanated from it.
Kallark knew the Lantern would survive. Part of him had wanted to kill the man for his betrayal for bringing the Phoenix to their doorstep, for fighting against them. But that impulse had been checked by the Lantern’s words.
He could not deny all the heroic work the Green Lantern had done in the empire: worlds saved, invasions stopped, the Va’rrun Crisis averted. Perhaps the Lantern was right that this new host could control the Phoenix and perhaps that very control was the reason their capture had succeeded at all.
In the end, Kallark wanted only the safety of his people. He had devoted his entire existence to protecting the Shi’ar Empire.
And yet that goal now seemed in doubt because of the Lantern’s warning:
The Phoenix cannot be contained. This action has only angered it more.
“Praetor,” Nightside called.
Kallark looked to her and held out his hand. “Give me the sword.”
She obeyed without question, placing Gram in his palm. The weapon was warm, humming with power.
“We should get you medical attention as soon as possible,” Nightside said. “I have called ahead.”
Kallark only grunted in acknowledgment, his mind filling with visions of doom this prison failing, the empire in flames, trillions dead because of the decisions he had made today.
She is the perfect host, the Lantern’s words echoed in his mind.
They descended to the planet’s surface, landing at a heavily fortified facility.
Oracle and every member of the Imperial Guard except Flashfire were waiting. Shock rippled through the team when they saw Kallark: armor cracked, face bruised and bloodied, moving with obvious pain.
“Praetor!” Hussar said, concern in her voice. “We were surprised by how long it took for you to… to kill the Lantern.”
Kallark’s jaw tightened. “He is not dead.”
Silence. Stunned looks. Disbelief.
Kallark said nothing more, simply walked past them, Gram still in his hand.
Medics examined him in a sterile white room healers scanning his injuries, applying regenerative treatments, knitting broken bones and torn tissue. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the worry burrowing into his mind, the paranoia taking root.
What if we’re wrong? What if this prison isn’t enough? What if the Lantern was right?
Oracle entered after the medics finished their initial work. She regarded him with all-seeing eyes, and he knew she sensed his turmoil.
“Tell me,” she said simply.
Kallark told her everything the Lantern’s words, his worries, his doubts. How the Lantern claimed this host was different.
“And now we’ve imprisoned her,” Kallark finished, his voice heavy.
Oracle was silent for a moment, eyes glowing as she reached out with her psychic senses, feeling the prison around them and the power contained within it.
“I have seen what they built here,” Oracle said at last. “The Chancellor’s masterwork. Centuries of preparation. The Phoenix will be imprisoned here for all time. This place was designed specifically for that purpose to hold a cosmic force indefinitely.”
Kallark was not convinced. The certainty that had powered him through battle was gone, replaced by gnawing doubt.
Oracle set a hand on his shoulder. “Rest and recover, Praetor. You’ve done your duty. The empire is safe.”
He nodded, though he didn’t believe it.
Kallark lay down in the recovery chamber, body aching, mind racing. Exhaustion physical and mental finally claimed him.
As he drifted to sleep, one thought remained:
Please let us have made the right choice.
========
It did not take long for him to heal.
Shi’ar medical technology was among the most advanced in the galaxy, and his Strontian physiology hastened recovery. Within hours, he was mobile again, still sore, but steady.
Kallark considered the possibility that the Lantern might follow. Even if he did, it would take time. They had arrived via experimental jump gates that deposited them directly in the heart of the Void technology that bypassed normal space-time entirely. Even if the Lantern discovered their location, reaching it would take considerable effort.
We have time, Kallark told himself. Time to secure the Phoenix. Time to ensure the empire’s safety.
He made his way to the planet’s core, where the Phoenix was imprisoned.
From an observation deck overlooking the chamber, he joined Oracle and the Chancellor of the Empire himself.
The Chancellor greeted him warmly, praising the Imperial Guard and Kallark in particular. “Praetor, you have done what generations before you could not. The Phoenix is captured. The empire is safe.”
Then his tone darkened. “Though I must say, the Green Lantern proved weak, seduced by this new host of the Phoenix. We should hunt him down now. It was a mistake to let him live.”
Kallark looked through the observation window at the host: a small figure suspended at the center of a massive containment field, layer upon layer of energy and M’Kraan Crystal imitations forming a prison within a prison. “What is it—the host?” he asked.
The Chancellor waved a hand dismissively. “We have not identified the species. Likely from some primitive world at the edge of the universe. It does not matter.”
Kallark spotted Flashfire near the containment field. “What is he doing there?”
“Security,” Oracle said calmly. “We’re conducting tests measuring power output, analyzing the Phoenix Force’s properties.”
Kallark’s eyes widened. “You should not do anything like that. Leave the Phoenix to rot.”
The Chancellor smiled. “This is our chance to study the Phoenix Force, Praetor. If the empire could harness even a fraction of it, we would be unstoppable. Imagine reshaping matter, traversing dimensions, commanding life itself.”
Kallark turned on him, anger flaring. “It is a cosmic force. If it escapes, then—”
“It will not,” the Chancellor interrupted, absolute confidence in his voice. “This prison is the work of generations of Shi’ar ingenuity and resources. It will hold. I guarantee it.”
Kallark watched as the host began to stir, her body shifting slightly within the containment field.
“It’s awake,” Oracle observed.
Her eyes opened. She looked around, disoriented, confusion creasing her brow. “Where… where am I?”
The Chancellor spoke through the comm channel, his voice echoing through the chamber. “I am the Chancellor of the Shi’ar Empire. You are the host of the Phoenix Force, a cosmic entity responsible for the deaths of billions across millennia. Your crimes include the destruction of seventeen Shi’ar worlds during the Rook’shir Incident, the eradication of countless civilizations, and offenses against the natural order of the universe. You will be imprisoned here for eternity.”
The host didn’t react to his accusations. Her expression shifted—realization, then concern. “Where is Max?”
Oracle frowned. “Who is Max?”
Her voice grew urgent. “Where is Max? What have you done with him?”
Flashfire stepped closer to the containment field, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. “Is this Max the Green Lantern?”
“Yes!” the host said, eyes finding him through the barrier. “Where is he? What have you done with him?”
Flashfire laughed. “We killed him.”
“Flashfire, stop!” Kallark commanded.
But Flashfire pressed on, mocking. “Your precious Lantern is dead. The Praetor crushed him. He begged for mercy at the end, but—”
Kallark watched in horror as the host’s expression ignited into white-hot fury. Her eyes blazed gold, and cosmic flames erupted around her body.
The entire planet shook.
“Everyone, fall back!” Kallark ordered but it was too late.
The host unleashed her power. The Phoenix Force detonated outward in waves of cosmic fire that made reality itself scream. The planet convulsed, threatening to tear itself apart. Equipment sparked and blew. Alarms howled. The containment field flickered.
“You said this would hold, Chancellor!” Kallark shouted over the chaos.
“It will! It must!” the Chancellor replied, his confidence cracking, fear showing in his eyes.
The containment field began to crack fractures appearing in the energy matrix, spreading like lightning across its crystal surface.
Kallark saw it was about to burst.
“Evacuate! NOW! EVACUATE, NOW!” he roared into the comms.
The observation deck erupted into chaos. Terrified Shi’ar scientists and technicians sprinted for the exits. The Imperial Guard moved to help Oracle’s psychic commands guiding people to escape routes, Hussar coordinating evacuation protocols, Manta shaping force-field corridors to shield the fleeing personnel.
Kallark helped evacuate, using his strength to clear debris, carry the injured, and hold up collapsing structures long enough for people to escape. More than five thousand Shi’ar lived in the facility scientists, engineers, security personnel, support staff.
The planet kept shaking as waves of energy radiated in all directions.
The Imperial Guard reached the surface with the survivors while the Phoenix fought to free herself from the supposedly unbreakable prison.
The world was tearing itself apart. Massive fissures yawned across the surface, swallowing entire sections of the complex. Streaks of cosmic fire burst free brilliant white-gold flames that burned through rock and metal as if they were nothing, erupting into space like solar flares. The black hole’s gravity clawed at the fragmenting planet, its tidal forces accelerating the destruction.
“We are fucked,” Hussar said flatly, her usual tactical composure cracking.
“Where is he?” Electron demanded, looking around frantically. “Flashfire?”
“Dead,” Kallark said, his voice hollow. Flashfire had stood too close to the containment field when it failed. The initial burst of Phoenix fire had vaporized him instantly.
“He caused all this,” Oracle said, anger and grief mingling in her voice.
“No,” Kallark replied, his tone dull and emotionless, the voice of someone who had already accepted his fate. “It was me. I should have made the decision to kill her when we had the chance.”
He knew what was coming. The Phoenix would break free, and the empire would burn.
He, the protector of the empire, had set its demise in motion.
The Guard continued evacuations as the planet grew ever more unstable. Ships launched frantically, but chaos reigned. Some were trapped under collapsed structures, engines damaged, unable to reach escape velocity.
Kallark worked desperately with the others, lifting debris, pushing ships free, buying people a chance.
Then Electron pointed into the pitch-black sky. “What is that?”
A green star. Small at first, but growing brighter.
“The Lantern,” Kallark murmured.
“We should have killed him,” Nightside said, using her Darkforce to brace a collapsing hangar just long enough for one more ship to escape.
The green light grew brighter and brighter swelling from a star to a sun illuminating the void around them.
“My readings suggest something larger than this planet is heading our way,” Oracle said, disbelief edging her voice.
Kallark and the others watched in horror as the shape resolved.
A colossal humanoid, mechanical, emerald construct impossibly large, dwarfing the fragmenting planet. A vaguely horned head, massive spiked shoulders, arms that could crush worlds. Its eyes burned with a terrible green light.
As it neared, it halted just short of collision. Then one of its titanic arms moved so fast Kallark thought it impossible and smashed down onto the planet’s surface.
The impact was cataclysmic. Continental plates shattered and spun into space. The shockwave hurled everyone into the air, the Guard flung in all directions, ships spiraling out of control.
The strike finished what the Phoenix had started. The containment field shattered completely, and the host burst free, wreathed in cosmic fire, eyes blazing with fury and grief.
Kallark watched her rise then looked up at the giant construct. From its head, the Green Lantern flew out his body encased in brilliant emerald light, an aura of power that rivaled the Phoenix itself.
He descended toward Kallark like a vengeful god.
This is it, Kallark thought. This is how I die. How we all die.
To his surprise, the Lantern turned his power toward rescue: constructs freed trapped ships, vast mechanical hands lifting debris, force fields stabilizing ruptured hulls, propulsion tethers helping them claw into escape velocity.
He landed near Kallark, expression unreadable.
“I believe you have something of mine,” the Lantern said, voice cold.
Kallark drew Gram from the sheath at his hip and held it out. The Lantern took it, and the sword erupted with Phoenix fire.
“Was it worth it?” the Lantern asked quietly.
Kallark’s voice broke. “No.”
He looked at the Lantern, this being he had called friend, had fought beside. “Please. Save them. Convince the Phoenix not to bring her fury upon the Shi’ar. I beg you.”
The Lantern studied him for a long moment. “I will try.”
A blast from the Phoenix lanced toward the Guard. The Lantern raised a shield and absorbed it effortlessly.
“Go,” he commanded. “I’ll handle the Phoenix.”
Kallark nodded, gratitude and shame warring in his chest. “Thank you. And… I’m sorry. For everything.”
The Lantern said nothing, he simply turned to face the host.
Kallark flew off to aid the Guard. The Lantern formed a ship for them; they boarded quickly and joined the evacuation fleet.
As they accelerated away, Kallark watched through the viewport.
The planet was annihilated torn apart by the combined forces of the Phoenix’s rage and the Lantern’s strike. Only white-gold fire and green energy remained, colliding over a shard of rock that was all that was left of the prison.
And at the center of it all, two figures faced each other:
The Phoenix and the Lantern.
Kallark could only pray that his former friend could do the impossible calm the Phoenix itself.
.
.
.
Max POV
Max let the giant construct of Unicron dissipate, the planetary-scale titan dissolving into motes of green light. He looked at Firehair—she looked as if she had lost all control.
The planet was coming apart around them, chunks breaking away and tumbling into the black hole’s gravity well.
Anti-Phoenix countermeasures ready, Jade reported.
“Right,” Max said, as Firehair sent out another wave of pure energy, a blast that would have vaporized an entire city.
Max blocked it with a shield mimicking Uru-vibranium.
“Red, stop! It’s over!” he called out.
Another blast came. He began walking toward her, his Uru–vibranium armor construct tanking the Phoenix’s force. Or perhaps Firehair herself was holding back he couldn’t tell.
“Firehair! Listen to me!”
She didn’t respond. Only more fire, more fury.
Max kept moving. Now his armor was beginning to burn away unmade, the Phoenix Force attacking the construct at a fundamental level.
He rebuilt it quickly, but the cycle of unmaking and remaking continued as he closed the distance. It became a race: could he replace the armor faster than she could destroy it?
Parts of his body were exposed as constructs failed faster than he could replace them his shoulder, his side, parts of his legs. His skin scorched, pain lancing through him like nothing he’d felt since Gram had impaled him. Still, he walked on.
The planet was nearly gone just a large asteroid and a debris field adrift in the dark.
He reached her, panting, as the assaults slackened slightly. Perhaps some part of her recognized him.
They hovered eye to eye above what remained of the prison world.
"They deserved to die for what they did," she said, Firehair's own voice mixed with that of the Phoenix.
“No,” Max said firmly.
“You would defend them?” Her voice rose with anger, flames intensifying. “After what they did to me? After what they did to you? You let them escape!”
“This was a mistake,” Max said. “No one else needs to die. It’s done.”
“No.” The fire around her flared, hotter, brighter. “The Shi’ar will burn. Every world. Every man and woman. Every living thing. They will pay for what they did to us for what they did to all my hosts before me!”
“I know that’s the Phoenix talking,” Max said.
He stepped closer, ignoring the agony as flames licked his exposed skin, burning and blistering. “Come on, Red. Take back control. This isn’t you.”
“I am in control,” she said coldly.
“No. Firehair wouldn’t want this,” Max said. “Firehair protects life. She doesn’t destroy it.”
He reached up, pushing his hand through the cosmic flames to touch her arms. The pain was excruciating, but he held on.
“You told me about Highwalker what happened to your village, how you lost control and everyone died.” His voice stayed gentle despite the agony. “You swore you’d never let that happen again. You swore to use the Phoenix’s power to protect, not to become its instrument of destruction.”
For a moment, the gold in her eyes flickered.
“You are Firehair,” Max said. “You didn’t give in once, and you can do it again. You’re stronger than the Phoenix. You’ve always been stronger.”
The cosmic fire dimmed. The gold in her eyes cracked, and blue showed beneath her true eyes.
“Max?” Her voice was her own again, confused, frightened. “Max, you’re alive! But they said—”
She kissed him, and the flames around her guttered almost completely.
He kissed back, relief flooding him. Even as he did, he began forming constructs around his hands.
When they parted, Max whispered, “I’m sorry about this, Pretty Bird.”
“What—?” Firehair blinked, confused.
Max triggered the construct: a concentrated electrical pulse tuned to her nervous system.
The pulse hit. Her eyes rolled back, and she went limp.
He caught her, lifting her gently as the last of the Phoenix flames dissipated.
Well, that went well, Jade said.
“Yeah,” Max replied, looking down at Firehair’s peaceful face. “Let’s hope she won’t kill me when she wakes up.”
The probability of that will be reduced if you follow through with your plans, Jade suggested.
“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Max said with a faint smile, and flew out of the Great Void with Firehair in his arms.
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Firehair POV
Firehair woke.
She was lying in a comfortable bed, soft and warm. She looked around and realized it was one of Max’s constructs.
What happened? she thought, disoriented.
She remembered being attacked the Imperial Guard coordinating their assault. Then waking in that prison, being told Max was dead. She remembered the rage, the fury, the Phoenix Force surging through her like a wildfire out of control.
Then she remembered everything: the planet breaking apart, Max walking toward her through the flames, his armor burning away, his body scorching.
I hurt Max, she thought in horror, recalling how he had come closer and closer despite the heat, how his constructs had failed, how his exposed skin had burned.
What did I do?
Well, don’t be so sad, the Phoenix murmured in her mind. He did attack us at the end, after all.
“We were out of control,” Firehair said aloud.
The attack was unnecessary, the Phoenix replied, dismissive. He had already calmed you without it.
“I lost control,” Firehair whispered, shame flooding through her.
You almost lost control, the Phoenix corrected. There is a difference. You pulled back in the end. That’s more than most of my hosts have ever managed.
“Where are we?” Firehair asked, changing the subject.
Let’s find out, the Phoenix said, curious.
Firehair stood and stepped out of the construct—a simple, elegant house whose windows and door opened at her approach. Outside, everything was dark. She realized the sky was blocked by something—some kind of massive construct barrier overhead.
She followed a beaten path lined with strange flowers and plants: bioluminescent blooms glowing softly in shades of blue and purple, vines with crystalline leaves that chimed in the breeze. The path climbed upward, and ahead, at what looked like a cliff’s edge, stood Max.
Max saw her and smiled. “You’re awake.”
“Well, who’s to blame for that?” she said, a little playfully.
Max looked genuinely apologetic. “Sorry. I really am.”
Firehair’s expression softened. “I was coming around on my own.”
“I didn’t want to take the chance,” Max admitted. “I couldn’t risk it.”
She came closer until she stood beside him at the cliff’s edge. “So how are you going to repay me for knocking me unconscious?”
Max smiled. “Well…” He waved his hands, and the construct barrier she’d suspected was hiding the sky dissolved like morning mist.
The sky was revealed.
Firehair gasped.
It was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen, more beautiful than anything she could have imagined. The planet lay within a dense star cluster; thousands upon thousands of stars filled the heavens, so thick they formed rivers of light across the dark. Some shone blue, some gold, some red, weaving a tapestry of color. Between them stretched nebulae clouds of cosmic gas painted in purples, pinks, and greens swirling in patterns that looked almost alive.
Dominating one swath of sky was a multicolored gas giant, massive and magnificent, its bands of atmosphere rolling in shades of teal, amber, crimson, and violet. What made it truly breathtaking were the auroras dancing across its surface.
The combined light of the stars and the gas giant painted everything in ethereal hues. It was like standing inside a dream.
Firehair was stunned into silence.
Okay, the Phoenix said grudgingly. I will give him credit for finding this place. It is… aesthetically pleasing.
“I did promise,” Max said softly, watching her reaction with clear satisfaction.
“Yes, you did,” Firehair managed.
Max’s expression shifted—just a flicker of disappointment. “I had a lot planned. A whole itinerary. But, well… you know…” He gestured vaguely, encompassing everything that had happened.
She turned to face him fully, stepping closer. “Then you’ll have to make it up to me.”
“Oh, I plan to.”
She moved closer still, their faces inches apart. “We do have some unfinished business.”
Max smirked. “Yes. Yes, we do.”
This time, he kissed her drawing her in one hand at the small of her back, the other cupping her face. It was different from the kisses before; it felt a lot better, too.
This is great, Firehair thought, losing herself in the moment.
Let’s hope he is also good at other things, the Phoenix said, amused.
Firehair ignored her, wrapping her arms around Max’s neck and kissing him back beneath one of the most beautiful skies in the universe.
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