Boom.
The dome collapsed in a deafening roar, and the hall below shattered as the massive green meteorite slammed into it. Screams filled the air as aliens scattered, their movements frantic and desperate. The green-lit meteor smashed the headquarters into a pile of rubble, sending stones and twisted metal raining down in every direction. Within seconds, the once-grand building was reduced to a smoking ruin.
In the aftermath, chaos reigned. The moans of the wounded echoed through the rubble, mingling with the terrified whispers of those who had managed to escape the full impact. Some lay pinned beneath the massive chunks of debris, while others clutched their injuries, too afraid to move. Even the lucky ones—those who had avoided harm—stood frozen, their wide eyes darting toward the figure at the center of the destruction.
They were paralyzed, not just by the devastation but by fear.
What was this guy?
He hadn't simply destroyed the headquarters—he had done it effortlessly. It was as if the meteorite had fallen out of the sky by command, shattering the building with a single strike.
In less than a minute, the truth became clear to everyone. They weren't fighting an ordinary opponent. This wasn't someone they could overpower with brute strength or overwhelm with sheer numbers. Green Lantern stood in a league far beyond anything they could comprehend.
Even their leader—revered as nearly invincible—couldn't hope to match this level of raw, unstoppable power.
And yet, not everyone had given up.
A high-pitched whistle cut through the thick smoke, followed by the sound of dozens of small objects piercing the air. Tiny projectiles streaked toward Green Lantern, leaving swirling trails in the haze as they homed in on him with deadly precision.
The attack came from the cadre—the humanoid alien who had stood calmly in the back moments earlier. With a flick of his arms, he had unleashed a storm of silver bullets that sliced through the rubble, aiming directly at Green Lantern.
Hal didn't flinch.
Raising his glowing hand, he summoned a wall of green light that shot up from the ground in an instant. The bullets struck the barrier with sharp, metallic pings, creating ripples across its surface like stones skipping across water. But Hal's shield wasn't just a solid wall—it was elastic, absorbing the energy of the projectiles and storing it.
Then, with a sudden burst of motion, the wall rebounded. The bullets flew back along their original trajectories, hurtling toward the cadre with twice the force.
The cadre's eyes widened. Reacting quickly, he swiped his hand through the air, and a silvery, liquid-like substance flowed out to form a curved shield in front of him. The rebounded projectiles collided with the shimmering barrier and vanished, absorbed into the liquid surface as if they had never existed.
The cadre grinned, confident in his counterattack.
Hal raised an eyebrow. "Cute," he said, his voice calm.
The liquid shield shimmered, then shifted shape. It morphed into a razor-thin blade that extended outward, its edge glowing with a deadly silver light. The cadre lashed out, swinging the blade toward Hal in a swift, calculated strike aimed directly at his head.
Hal moved effortlessly, floating to the side as the blade missed by mere inches. The weapon struck the ground with a deafening crack, carving a deep gash into the stone floor.
But the cadre wasn't finished.
The blade rebounded, transforming mid-air into a whip-like form that coiled around Hal in an instant. The silver whip wrapped tightly around him, its shimmering surface pulsating with energy as it constricted his glowing form.
"Yes!" an alien from the crowd shouted. "He's got him!"
The onlookers began cheering, their voices filled with hope as they watched the cadre tighten his grip. The liquid whip was one of the most dangerous weapons in their arsenal. It could crush steel beams and slice through armor like butter. Once it had its target, there was no escape.
But Hal's expression didn't change.
He stood still, his body enveloped by the whip, his face calm and almost amused. As the cadre increased the pressure, veins bulging from the strain, Hal tilted his head slightly, his faint smirk unwavering.
The cadre's confidence began to waver.
"This... this isn't possible," he muttered, sweat dripping from his brow.
With a desperate roar, he poured all his strength into the attack. The whip tightened further, trembling as it pressed against the glowing green energy field surrounding Hal. The force was so intense that the whip itself began to shake under the pressure.
Hal yawned. "Are you done yet?"
Before the cadre could respond, the green light surrounding Hal flared. Thin tendrils of energy shot out from the gaps in the whip, glowing brighter and brighter as they grew. The tendrils twisted and expanded, forming long, flexible fingers that moved with incredible precision.
The green fingers grabbed the whip and began to unravel it like a loose thread. The liquid metal resisted, but the glowing hands were relentless, pulling apart the whip with smooth, practiced movements. Within seconds, the whip was completely undone, its silver strands dangling uselessly.
The crowd watched in stunned silence.
Hal wasn't done showing off. With a flick of his wrist, the glowing fingers twisted the liquid metal into elaborate patterns, crisscrossing it like a game of cat's cradle. Then, with a final flourish, he threw it aside, the silvery strands falling into a glowing green bubble.
The cadre staggered backward, his eyes wide with shock.
"No... no, no, no!" he stammered, reaching for the liquid metal.
He pulled with all his might, trying to reclaim his weapon, but the bubble holding it remained unyielding. The liquid metal slammed against the barrier again and again, creating ripples that spread across its translucent surface. But the bubble didn't break.
And then, with a sudden motion, Hal released the bubble.
The liquid metal shot back toward the cadre with the full force of his pull. He yelped as it slammed into him, knocking him to the ground in a clumsy heap.
The crowd burst into nervous laughter.
Many of them had witnessed the cadre's abilities before. His liquid metal weapon was infamous, capable of overwhelming even the most skilled fighters. Yet here he was, defeated by his own weapon.
Hal floated silently in the center of the room, his glowing figure untouched. The contrast between his calm demeanor and the chaos around him was striking. The hall was a ruin, its once-proud walls crumbled to dust, and every alien present had either fled or been brought low.
"Now," Hal said, his voice cutting through the silence, "can we talk calmly?"