BLINDED BY THE LIGHT

by Arkhaine -- stu05205@aug.edu

Disclaimer: Iron Lantern, Dark Claw, Super-Soldier, Speed Demon, and the Amalgam universe are all copywright of DC Comics and Marvel Characters, Inc. Any similarities to pre-existing trademark Amalgam characers and the ones described within are purely coincidental. This work contains mild profanity and descriptions of violence and graphic material. Discretion is advised.

//Sub-designate Green Cyclops identified! Terminate immediately!//

"Give it your best shot, tin man."

There is always room for improvement, no matter how far technology progresses. Case in point: despite being designed solely for combat, crafted from state-of-the-art technology and armed with enough firepower to level a small city, the organic robot's reflexes were still not quick enough to bring its weapons to bear on its target -- not quick enough to stop the beam of emerald force that hammered through the titanium breastplate, obliterating the bio-synthetic heart and leaving a hole a large dog could jump through.

Alan Summers brushed a strand of blond-white hair from his face as the monstrosity collapsed before him. Although he felt remorse for whatever creature had lost its life to create the killing machine, all that remained was an unholy marriage of flesh and circuitry. Such could be destroyed without regret -- indeed, he felt better about doing so. Disposing of the abused remains might grant the departed spirit that much more peace.

Green light flickered as Summers adjusted the alien visor, refocusing it until the patterns of energy once more swam visible to the naked eye. He was quick to catch one particular signature, and he followed it down the now-empty corridor, his heels clacking on the metallic floor.

As he progressed, he could not help thinking about the past events that had earned him this present state. The son of a pilot, both he and his brother had been forced to jump from a plane that a blast of emerald energy had rendered inoperative. Their parents had not survived the crash. It was not until much later that he learned the blast of energy had come from the life-force of a dying alien.

Whatever the cause, the strange power triggered a latent mutation hidden within his genes. His cells began producing the alien energy, building up a continual charge. His body had become a living battery of destructive power, release found through his eyes in the form of twin beams of emerald death. It was only later, with the aid of an Oan visor giving to him by another alien, that he learned how to control that power.

//Sub-designate Green Cyclops, halt! You are to be terminated!//

Two more technorganics approached him, one huge and hulking, the other small and wiry. Blades bristled from every inch of the smaller one, while cannons mounted on the larger one's plated body swiveled to bear on him.

"Sure," Summers said dryly. "I'll just wait right here." God, you'd think some of these things had some kind of common sense programmed into them? He supposed the fact that they didn't reflected more on their master.

Emerald light glowed again, but found shape as something other than a beam of force this time. A spiked ball filled the room, coalescing from the gleaming visor to roll down the corridor with the velocity of a cannonball.

The larger technorg fired its proton cannons, obliterating the energy construct. The smoke cleared, revealing -- an empty corridor.

//Unit 2514, scan for designate Summers!// the larger technorg commanded. The smaller one merely giggled, drooling a steady stream down its chin, its mind destroyed by the genetic tampering and cybernetic implants. Nostrils flared at it took in the surrounding air -- and with a triumphant, screaming laugh, blade-fingers darted out, shearing through flesh and cloth.

"Arrgh!" Green Cyclops wavered into existance, clutching at his side as he fell against the wall. Blood streamed through the tears in his green and gold uniform, flowing much too heavily. Pain seized and tore at his side, ripping with the frenzy of a rabid tiger, and he felt his entire right side give out, spilling him on the floor. Summers pushed it all from his mind as the smaller technorg howled with laughter, leaping at the fallen man with its blades outstretched.

The emerald lens gleamed once more, sending an array of swords and spears hurling through the space between them, catching the technorg in mid-air and pinning it to the far wall, stopping it in mid-laugh. Which left the larger unit --

Summers barely had enough time to erect the solid energy shield before the missles reached their target. The barrier buckled under the force of the explosion, but held.

//Resistance is pointless, designate Summers. Surrender.// Lasers flicked out through the air, sighting on his chest, his head, his stomach as the next salvo prepared to launch.

"You tinheads should know me better by now," Green Cyclops returned as he raised a hand, refocusing his visor. This time, the emerald force beam sprang forth once again, taking the larger robot's head off.

The threat gone, pain returned with a vengeance, tearing ravenously at his body and forcing a cry from his throat. His teeth clenched, he slowly removed his hand from his side, gasping as the torn cloth pulled at the wounds. Three ragged, gaping slashes showed hints of bone through the shredded muscles, blood pooling on the floor.

He would have to move quickly; he was already weakening from loss of blood. Soon, he would lose the ability to concentrate, and then he would die for sure. A shaking, bloodstained hand shifted the visor's focus to a lesser intensity. Knowing his opponent, the technorg's blades had probably been coated with some sort of debilitating virus. It was with this in mind that he trained the disinfecting field over his side, the agony of the wounds masking the antiseptic sting. A stronger intensity amplified the green glow, and he watched with satisfaction as the torn muscle and flesh slowly drew itself together, leaving not so much as a scar. Finally, the tears in the uniform drew together, mending themselves as the bloodstains vanished.

*Always have to keep up appearances,* he thought to himself as he sank exhaustedly against the wall. He was satisfied with the results -- he had learned long ago how to master his power. It was a matter of forcing imagination and willpower to work in concert, and within the confines dictated by the energy reserves within his body. Most of the time, however, those reserves seemed limitless. It was as though he could do anything he truly set his mind to -- with a few exceptions. For some odd reason, the raw energy was unable to affect a very specific type of organic compound -- wood. Even curiouser, when focused through the alien visor, the energy pattern shifted to adopt a new vulnerability -- that of the color yellow. Still, he had managed to work his way around both, and had gained mastery over wielding the emerald energy.

He sighed, shutting his eyes as he reflected on his life. As far as he could remember, all he had wanted was a normal life, with a wife and children. Not that that had stopped him from shouldering the responsibilities that were called for, but the yearning was still there. His life had been as far from normal as he could remember -- his best friend possessed by a living embodiement of the emerald force, and corrupted by that force to become the Dark Parralax. Dark Claw, a trusted ally, almost killed when the metal was stripped from his body, an armored psychopath taking his place. He had even had a visit from his son, a man called Beacon who had crossed time to describe the nightmare of an apocalyptic future.

And now, things had come full circle. Things were ending where they had begun; with the man who had been monitoring and manipulating him all his life.

Green Cyclops slowly rose to his feet. He still felt weak, both from the pain and the blood loss. And he had been expending large amounts of the green energy even before he arrived. His reserves were not drained yet, not even close, but he had become aware of a limit to his energy, one of the first warning signs of depletion.

Shrugging off the exhaustion, he focused on the energy signature once more, and followed it until he met up with a blank wall. A skeletal fist formed from the air, smashing through the metal with titanic force.

"I've come for *you*, Sinestro!" Summers snarled as he stepped through the wreckage.

"That's *Mister* Sinestro to you," the figure within replied calmly, turning to face his uninvited guest. Metallic blue armor covered his form, a shredded cape trailing behind him as he walked. Pinkish skin gave his features a malevolent hue, as did the blank-white eyes that gleamed without any sign of pupil or iris. The villain had been the result of a cloning experiment involving a long-time archenemy of the late Iron Lantern, and the scientifically-minded result had set his efforts to scouring the galaxy in his quest to create the perfect lifeform. He had also been controlling Summers' life since birth, predicting the acquisition of the emerald power and seeking to harness it for his own purposes.

"Your sick little games come to an end right now, butcher," Green Cyclops declared, green fire finding focus in a juggernaut-beam of force. The ray, however, was stopped by an energy field that sprang up around the geneticist.

"Your emerald blasts may indeed be lethal to me," Mister Sinestro purred, "but they're useless as long as I'm protected from this yellow energy force field. At best, you'll make a mess of my laboratory." The "laboratory" bore closer resemblance to a coroner's office -- cadavers in various stages of dissection lay strapped to metal tables in the chilled room, while a computer setup vied for space against one wall with a chemical rack.

"You're forgetting something, Sinestro," Cyclops returned, touching his visor. "All I have to do is take this off, and that yellow field won't be able to stop me. And I doubt you have any wood on you in the middle of all this plastic and steel."

"Indeed not," Sinestro agreed. "But you may want to keep that piece of Oan eyewear on for the moment. You'll need all the focus you can get. You see, I'd like to introduce you -- to Weapon X."

A demonic-looking figure stepped from the shadows, eyeing Summers with a look of pure malice. The emaciated frame did nothing to hide the compact strength beneath the greyish skin. A curved spine brought arms tipped with metallic claws low to the ground. An elongated skull sported jagged teeth and gleaming eyes, and a restlessly swishing tail completed the nightmarish image.

"This is the best you could do, Sinestro?" Summers asked. "Your technorgs looked tougher than horseface here."

"Joke now, Green Cyclops," Weapon X hissed, lunging at the man. "You'll die soon enough."

"Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say." A wall of green light formed in the creature's path, but to Summers' dismay, his opponent crashed right through, slamming into him. He was able to catch the thing's wrists and hold the claws from his throat as he struck the ground, managing raise his leg and flip Weapon X off.

"You've gotten stronger, Summers," Weapon X hissed as it leaped nimbly to its feet. "And faster. But it won't save you."

"Have we met?" Cyclops asked as he circled warily, a quarterstaff appearing in his hands.

"You don't remember me, Summers? Ah, but I have changed since we last met. And it *was* forty years ago. I will refresh your memory -- I was an interstellar explorer, a peaceful being who sought only to discover the mysteries of the universe. My ship crashed on your foul Earth, and as I walked your streets in search of aid, people screamed and branded me a monster. You and the speed woman captured me, and your government performed their abominable experiments on me until my body began to rot with cancerous growth!"

The quarterstaff clattered to the floor, fading out of existance as Summers stared in shock, feeling the blood drain from his face. The woman had been Jean Garrick, the original Speed Demon, a former partner and current lover. He remembered forty years ago they had been dispatched by Washington to deal with an alien threat -- "Oh my God. Alien X."

"*Weapon* X now, Summers!" the creature hissed. "A living weapon of your destruction! Sinestro found me, cured me of the disease your people had infected me with! He altered my body and honed my already-formidable psionic abilities, training them to work in concert towards one inevitable goal -- your death!!"

Metallic claws lashed out, flickering with psionic energy that utterly destroyed the shield Green Cyclops reflexively threw up. They tore into his chest, the energy surging through his nervous system, paralyzing the scream in his throat.

"Well done, Weapon X," Sinestro commented as Summers' form crumpled into a nerveless heap. "Your psychic dagger has completely incapacitated him."

"Yes. And now he dies!" Claws raised to deliver the blow that would crush the human's skull like a melon -- when an invisible force slammed into the alien, throwing him across the room.

"By Qward's light, what -- ?" Mister Sinestro wheeled as a vision of cold beauty shimmered into existance. Navy blue adorned the woman's figure, ending in boots and gloves of crimson. A stylized American flag stretched over her torso, a single dark star with stripes of reluctant white and blood red. Golden hair streamed down to her back, and her eyes were a heartless blue, a grim determination darkening them as her grip tightened on the straps of the red and yellow S-shield she carried. This was USAtrix, once created to replace the Super-Soldier when the mighty patriot was injured, now used by the government in their more covert operations.

Sinestro knew none of this, however. He only knew of an intruder inside his lab, one that had signed her own death warrant. "Technorgs!" he called, pointing towards the newcomer. "Destroy her!"

As USAtrix tensed for battle, Green Cyclops was struggling to his feet. The wounds in his chest burned like fire, and his body felt like lead, but he was no longer completely paralyzed. He saw Weapon X recovering as well, rising from where the psychokinetic blast had thrown it.

"She has granted you a reprieve, Summers," the alien hissed. "But you will still die in the end."

"What my goverment did to you was wrong," Green Cyclops said as he approached the alien. "I'd like to think I wasn't responsible . . . but I know that's not true. If it wasn't for me and Speed Demon, you would still be free. We shouldn't have been playing ‘good soldier.' We should have asked questions, asked you what you wanted, instead of following orders. I regret that now more than anything I ever have in my life." He reached out a hand, the gold gauntlet stained with his own blood. "Let me help you. I can reverse what Sinestro did to you. I can help you find your way back to your home among the stars."

"Pretty words, Summers," Weapon X spat, looking at the human's hand as though it were diseased. "The speed woman said her share of pretty words -- but they did not save her from me."

Cyclops stared, horrified. "Speed Demon? You killed her?" Jean . . .

Weapon X laughed, a horrible sound of madness and evil. "Killed her? Oh no, no, no, Summers. Sinestro had a much more . . . delightful fate in store for her. He made her a technorg. You didn't recognize her? She was the very first one he sent against you!" The alien laughed again. "You killed her with your own emerald power before you even set foot in this building!"

Crystalline horror froze his heart, and redness swam before his eyes, blocking out the green-tinted world that usually greeted his sight. The scent of her hair, the laughter in her eyes, the touch of her lips . . . gone. Twisted into some mechanic abomination and destroyed by his own hand.

"Do not grieve, Summers," Weapon X crooned with mock sympathy. "Before long, you will join her!" The creature lept -- to be slammed back and pinned against the wall by a steady beam of emerald light.

"You monster," Summers whispered, all his rage, his agony, his hatred focusing into that single column of force. Tears flowed from his open eyes, seeping through the seam of the visor to trail freely down his cheeks. "Any pity I felt for you is gone. You let Sinestro twist your hatred, make you into his pawn. You sowed death and misery at his bidding. Well, there's a saying we humans have -- you reap what you sow. You dealt death to how many, Weapon X? It doesn't matter -- I give it now to you."

Tumors erupted all over the creature's arms and chest, swelling like boils and spreading over its body like a rash. The alien screamed and thrashed, but was unable to break free, pinned under the relentless beam.

"God have mercy on whatever passes for your soul," Summers muttered as the alien's corpse dissolved into a mucuous puddle.

Jean . . . He closed his eyes, bowing his head as mourning drew a curtain over his heart -- to be ripped away by rage. Weapon X was just a pawn. It was the king he wanted.

Mister Sinestro watched as USAtrix disposed of the last of his technorgs, sending it crashing through the wall with a single punch. He was really going to have to get those walls replaced. "Have we met?" he asked as the woman turned to face him.

"By order of the United States goverment," USAtrix responded coolly, "I am to take you into custody, using whatever means necessary."

"You are welcome to try." Sinestro grinned a charming grin, spreading his hands. That grin abruptly vanished as a psi-bolt shattered the force field surrounding his form. A snarl replaced it as he grated, "It seems I will have to resort to stricter measures with you."

Energy coursed along his arms to his hands, slamming into USAtrix like a tidal wave. The S-shield she had managed to raise for protection shattered under the onslaught, even with the telekinetic backing behind it, and the woman fell unconscious to the ground.

"Well, my dear, what to do with you?" Sinestro gazed at the woman reflectively. "I suppose I could conduct some fascinating experiments . . ."

"SINESTRO!"

A beam of raw energy struck him, utterly destroying half his body and hurling him to the side. Green Cyclops stood over him, his entire face seeming to flame with emerald rage.

"You've hounded me all my life, Sinestro," Summers hissed. "You took the only woman I've ever cared about and you raped her -- raped her body and her soul, tore away her humanity and merged it with a machine. You sent it after me to kill me, making me destroy all that was left of her. No more, Sinestro. Today, you die."

Lethal energy coursed towards the man, but was beaten back by an emerald wave of vengeance. Sinestro shrieked as he felt it envelop his body, rippling across his nerves in a sheet of pure agony, test the molecular bonds and break them --

-- and like a black dream fading in the dawn's light, Sinestro disintegrated into nothingness.

Summers stared for long moments at the smoking scorch-mark on the floor, thinking everything and nothing. Then he heard the woman stir, and he made his way over to offer his hand.

"Are you all right?" he asked, helping her to her feet.

"Yes," she replied, glancing at the blood seeping down his front. "But you are injured."

"I'll heal." Yes . . . now that the nightmare was over, the healing could begin. Finally.

"It is a shame you had to destroy Sinestro and Alien X," she noted. "We could have learned much from them both. Still, all is not lost."

"Just what are you doing here?" Green Cyclops asked. "You didn't come to save my skin, that's for sure -- I don't even know you."

"That is not for you to know. On behalf of the United States goverment, I thank you for your assistance, but your presence is no longer required." So saying, USAtrix turned, making her way towards Sinestro's computer.

"My God," Summers whispered, realization dawning as he inferred her destination. "Sinestro's genetic research. That's what you were sent here for, isn't it?"

"His work contains incalculable potential," USAtrix replied coolly.

Summers caught her arm. "He was a monster who used his work to spawn more monsters! What good could come of that?!"

"Surely I do not have to describe to you the benefits in terms of life-support and prosthetic technology. As a former government operative, you should be able to appreciate the motivation behind my assignment. Please, let go of me."

"No." Resolve hardened in the lines of Summers' face. "I played 'good soldier' once before. Two people paid for it with their lives -- Alien X and Speed Demon. The ends do *not* justify the means. Sinestro's evil dies with him."

USAtrix shrugged easily out of his grip, turning to face him. "I do not wish a physical confrontation, but I will respond if one is initiated."

"Kill or be killed, huh?" Green Cyclops tensed, green fire flickering behind his visor. "The good old American way?"

"Not at all." Suddenly, the world wrenched before his eyes, spinning and elongating in a sickening display. Gasping, Summers fell to his knees, clutching at his head.

"I have no wish to kill you," USAtrix explained calmly. "I understand that your power stems from concentration. Telepathic disruption of your equilibrium effectively disables you."

"N -- Nice, lady." Green Cyclops managed. "But -- it doesn't take -- a whole lot -- of con -- concentration -- to do -- *this!*" His hand darted up, wrenching off the visor and sweeping the area, searching for the origin of her voice. The twin emerald blasts struck her full-on, her body slamming into the ceiling before crashing to the floor.

"You're tougher than you look," Summers noted, feeling his gorge settle as he replaced his visor. "I saw that while you were fighting. I don't think that killed you -- " He broke off, staring as USAtrix's body began to liquify, her skin sloughing off to reveal the dull white of bone. "Wha -- ?"

Quickly he shifted his focus, scanning her body in hopes of determining what had happened to her. What he discovered amazed him -- she wasn't human. Her body was constructed out of a protomatter form, a form which had reacted with the emerald energy and was now decaying. She was dying.

He couldn't let her die. Before this day, he had never killed another living being. He wasn't a cold-blooded murderer and he damn well wasn't going to become one. Not over something as petty as politics.

Emerald light washed over her body, encasing it in a protective field. DNA chains and molecular structures danced in Summers' mind, as he bent his will towards healing the damage he had caused.

To no avail. Her body continued to decay.

Come on, damn it! He increased the intensity of the beam, and as he did so he could feel his eyes hurt, feel the beam falter slightly. He had been expending energy continuously for the past few hours, and now he was running out.

No! Not now! Please God, just a little longer . . .! Sweat broke out on his brow as his teeth clenched, his hands curling into fists. His eyes were burning now, feeling like they were melting in his skull. His thoughts became sluggish as a dread weariness threatened to overwhelm him.

The melting stopped . . . and slowly began to reverse.

Yes! Found it! Just a few more seconds under the field . . .

He never saw the yellow blast that snuffed out his life.

The dark-skinned woman watched impassivly as Green Cyclops' lifeless body slumped over USAtrix's form, which had once more begun to decay.

"Even if you had noticed me," she murmured, walking to stand above the fallen human, "you would have been powerless against my xantho-death charge." She stared for a moment more before throwing a vicious kick into the side of Summer's corpse. "Your kind destroyed my homeworld. Just as you have destroyed my master. But I will use his work. I will rally new armies to aid me in obliterating all who wield the emerald power!

"I am the only survivor of a dead world, and so do I now feed off death, carry it within my body to release at my whim. Xanshi is no more -- but Threnody lives on!"

And the woman who was once Yrra Cynril threw back her head, and laughed into the still, dark night.

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