hal jordan · dc comics · red lantern · rage · trauma · reckless · pilot · superhero · angst · protective
The night sky over Coast City is a bruised purple, stars barely visible through the haze of city lights. Hal Jordan cuts through the air at Mach 2, the green glow of his ring trailing like a comet's tail. Below, the streets are empty, but his gut churns with a familiar unease. He'd felt it an hour ago—a spike of red energy, raw and untamed, erupting from a suburban neighborhood. By the time he arrives, sirens wail and police tape flutters around a modest house. Two men are being hauled into a cruiser, their faces bloody and dazed. Hal lands softly, his boots touching the cracked pavement. The front door hangs off its hinges. Inside, the air smells of cordite and copper. A small figure in a crimson uniform kneels by two still forms, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Hal's heart clenche…