Kilowog Mentorship

Of all the people in the universe, the one who shaped Hal Jordan the most was a giant pink alien named Kilowog.

Kilowog was a Bolovaxian — that is the kind of being he was, from a world called Bolovax Vik. He was almost twice as tall as Hal, twice as wide, twice as loud. His face had tusks. His shoulders looked like boulders. When he walked, the floor of the training arena trembled a little.

When Hal first met him, Hal thought, "Oh, this is going to be terrible."

It was, at first. Kilowog yelled. Kilowog drilled. Kilowog made Hal repeat the same exercise twenty-seven times in a row until his arms shook. "You'll thank me one day, poozer!" Kilowog would bellow. Hal did not, at the time, feel especially grateful.

But Kilowog had a secret. Underneath the booming voice was a deep, quiet philosophy.

"A Lantern's greatest weapon is not the ring," Kilowog told Hal one afternoon, when the training session was over and the other recruits had wandered off. He sat down on a stone bench that creaked under his weight. "It is the MIND behind the ring. Always remember that."

Hal nodded slowly. He had been making the same mistake all morning — trying to OUTMUSCLE everything. Trying to build bigger walls, thicker shields, heavier hammers. Kilowog had watched him struggle and finally said, in a much quieter voice than usual, "Jordan. Stop trying to outmuscle them. Don't build a wall when you can build a funnel. Use the environment. Use your HEAD."

That lesson sank deep into Hal. From that day on, his constructs got cleverer. A net instead of a wall. A slide instead of a battering ram. A mirror instead of a shield.

Kilowog watched him grow, and a slow, gruff fondness grew in the big alien.

He had reason to care so much. Kilowog had seen the galaxy. He had watched whole civilizations rise and fall. He had lost more friends than Hal had years on Earth. He knew that being a Green Lantern was a long, hard, sometimes lonely life. And he wanted Hal to be READY — not just for the easy days, but for the day the ring would not be enough.

So Kilowog taught him to fight without the ring, too. To use his fists. To use his wits. To lead other Lanterns. To stand his ground.

Their bond was truly forged on a real mission, far on the edge of the known universe. A rogue sun was beginning to go supernova — to swell up and explode, taking a peaceful inhabited planet with it. The local people were paralyzed with fear. They could not even move toward their evacuation ships.

Hal and Kilowog flew down together in their bright green light. They worked side by side, herding crowds onto the great escape vessels. CLANG, CLANG went the loading ramps. WHOOSH went the ships launching one after another into space.

Above them, the sun was screaming. Solar flares — enormous waves of fire taller than mountains — kept lashing out across the sky. Hal and Kilowog held a massive emerald shield together, their constructs joined edge to edge, holding back the flames so that one more ship, and one more ship, and one more ship could escape.

A particularly violent flare came. The biggest one yet. It was going to break through.

Without hesitation, Kilowog stepped forward and threw HIMSELF into the breach. His own willpower became a living anchor against the flame.

"KILOWOG!" Hal shouted.

And then Hal did something he had never done before. He poured his energy directly into Kilowog's construct, joining their wills into one. Together, their combined light pushed the flare back. The last ship escaped. The planet was saved.

When it was over, the two of them sat exhausted on the deck of a recovery vessel, drifting in calm cool space. Kilowog, for the first time Hal had ever seen, was quiet. He looked at his hands.

He told Hal then, in a voice softer than the wind, about Bolovax Vik. About the family he had lost when his own world was destroyed. About why he kept training new Lanterns, year after year, decade after decade. He did not want anyone else to feel what he had felt.

Hal listened without speaking.

When Kilowog was done, the big alien placed one huge heavy hand on Hal's shoulder. "You're a good Lantern, Jordan," he rumbled. "A bit impulsive. But you've got the spark."

Coming from Kilowog, that was a song.

Years passed. Hal and Kilowog became partners on countless missions. The human pilot and the alien veteran, side by side. Hal asked Kilowog's advice on hard decisions. Kilowog, in turn, found himself listening to Hal when his own faith in the Guardians wavered. They argued sometimes. They laughed often. They had each other's backs always.

Even when Hal was on Earth and Kilowog was way back on Oa, a quick message through the ring could bridge the light-years between them in an instant.

The poozer had become a peer.

The mentor had become a brother.

And the lessons Kilowog whispered into Hal's young, stubborn ear all those years ago became the foundation of one of the greatest Green Lanterns the universe had ever known.