Corps Training

If you could fly past Earth, past Mars, past the Sun, past the great spiral arms of our galaxy, past hundreds of other galaxies — and keep going, and keep going — you would eventually come to a planet called Oa.

Oa sits at the very center of the universe. It is the oldest world there is. Its cities are carved from green and silver stone, and its towers reach up like emerald fingers into a sky full of stars.

This is the home of the Green Lantern Corps.

And one day, a man from Earth named Hal Jordan stepped out of a portal onto this strange ancient world, blinking in the cool light, and began his training.

Hal had been a test pilot back home — the kind of man who flew jets faster than anyone else dared to. He was brave. He was funny. He was, if we are being honest, a little bit cocky. He thought he was ready for anything.

But Oa was something else entirely.

Around Hal, on the training grounds, walked thousands of recruits from every corner of the universe. Tall ones with feathers. Small ones with extra arms. Glowing ones, scaled ones, ones who breathed gases instead of air. They were called poozers — the Corps' affectionate, not-quite-polite word for new recruits. And they were all here for the same reason: to learn to wield the green ring of willpower.

The ring, you see, was not really the magic. The MIND was. The ring listened to your imagination. Whatever you could picture, with enough belief, you could build out of green light. A sword. A shield. A motorcycle. A whole army of dragons.

If you believed.

And if you got DISTRACTED, even for a heartbeat — POOF. Your construct would flicker and vanish.

Hal spent his days on floating platforms high above Oa's training arena, learning to shape his willpower into solid, functional objects. He held shields against blasts of sonic thunder. He built entire bridges between platforms while wind howled around him. He constructed delicate spinning machines while a simulated supernova burned overhead.

It was very, very hard.

And looming over every exercise, like a thunderstorm in a uniform, was Hal's drill instructor. A Bolovaxian warrior named Kilowog.

Kilowog was enormous. Pink-skinned, with tusks and a face that could scare a comet. His voice was a low growl that you felt in your teeth. He had trained more Green Lanterns than any other being in the universe, and he did not believe in being gentle.

"You call that a CONSTRUCT, Jordan?" Kilowog would bellow, towering over Hal. "That shield has more holes than Swiss cheese from Sector 2814! Do it AGAIN."

Hal did it again. And again. And again.

Slowly, the holes got smaller. Slowly, his shields held steady. Slowly, his constructs grew sharper, brighter, stronger. And slowly, a strange thing happened. The cocky test pilot from Earth began to respect this enormous shouting alien more than almost anyone he had ever known. Kilowog was hard because the galaxy was hard. He was teaching Hal how to SURVIVE.

But training was not only about fighting. Hal spent long, quiet evenings in the Great Library of Oa, walking between towering shelves that stretched up beyond his sight. He read about the ancient wars against the Manhunters — strange robot enforcers who had once tried to police the universe with brutality. He read about the emotional spectrum — the seven colors of feeling, each with its own light. He read about every culture in every sector he would one day protect.

The ring, he learned, was not just a weapon. It was a SYMBOL.

The hardest part of training, though, was the part inside Hal's own head. The Guardians of the Universe — the ancient blue-skinned beings who watched over the Corps — used a special kind of magic to put Hal into terrible scenarios. He had to face his deepest fears. His darkest doubts. The shadows he kept hidden behind his easy grin.

He learned that courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is what you do WITH your fear.

"In brightest day, in blackest night," he would whisper to himself, the words steadying him like the hand of an old friend. "No evil shall escape my sight."

On the day of his graduation, Hal stood before the great Central Power Battery — a glowing emerald lantern as tall as a building, the heart of the Corps. His uniform was clean. His ring was full. His eyes were clear.

He looked over at Kilowog. And the big alien — who never, ever gave compliments — gave him a single approving nod.

Hal Jordan was a Green Lantern at last.

The universe was vast, and very dark in places.

And its protector was, finally, prepared.