[ Written by Joygirl. Plotted by Joygirl and Avenging_X_Bolt. ]
For the rest of WotRL, future updates, and a glance at the full roster, check out (and make sure to recommend!) the Wrath of the Red Lanterns user list, which will be acting as the library and central hub for this title!
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“Rreaaeelghhghlkk,” a moist, heaving sound followed by a splatter. Atros, the High Lord of the Red Lantern Corps, lifted himself from all fours to his sturdy knees, gazing down into the fresh pool of burning red plasma in front of him. Muttered arcane phrases and intonations caused the pool to start to swirl, start to effervesce and grow translucent – a portal to a faraway place that only Atrocitus could see through.
“Show me the tomb... show me what he left behind,” the Red Lord growled, and the looking glass created from his own blood began to travel, to show Atros what he wanted to see. Show him the path there.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
“You're going?” Laira asked, her face screwed up in confusion. Atros's claws had already shorn through reality itself, opening a pulsing abyss, a portal. He turned his massive head back slowly, eyes narrowed.
“I am. I have business to attend to,” he growled.
“What are you going to do, boss?” came a grunt from Zilius Zox, floating grossly over to the duo. “Don't ya belong here, with the reds? What if something happens?”
“If you cannot handle yourselves while I leave, then you are not worthy to follow me. Consider this me dropping you in the deep end of the pool.” Atrocitus gritted his long, thick fangs together, his acidic yellow gaze boring into Zilius and Laira alike. “While Laira's team goes to find the Weaponer, I have someone else I must seek out. I must strengthen the Corps in ways only I can.” With that, he turned and began to walk through the portal.
“Wait–!” Laira wailed out.
“What.”
“Who are you placing in charge while you're gone?” Laira asked, tilting her head to the side.
Sometimes it could be challenging to tell when Atrocitus was smiling. The way his exposed fangs locked together made it so that it was primarily his eyes and the tightening of his cheeks that signified any sort of amusement. “Figure that out for yourself.” He gave no more word before slipping through the portal, the angry gash clapping shut behind him with a whiff of iron and ozone.
Laira furrowed her brow, staring at the place where Atros had just been. What in the world could he have possibly needed to do so badly that he'd leave the Corps alone to tear itself apart? When Bleez heard about this, she'd–
Wait. There were only three people who knew about this – Laira, Zilius Zox, and Atros himself. If she could find a way to silence the bloated brown menace she could designate someone else leader, say that it was Atros's last words. Keep the power in the hands of someone she trusted.
“Well that was weird,” Zilius snarled. “Think it has anything to do with one of the other Corps?”
“I don't know,” Laira whispered, turning away from Zilius and gazing out at the citadel, at the Blood Ocean, at Ysmault. It wouldn't be enough to promote someone she trusted. It had to be someone that could hold up the Corps, someone they'd believe. Nobody'd believe that someone like Ratchet or herself would be left in charge. It had to be one of the prodigies.
It had to be Razer.
“Zilius, can I talk to you for a minute?”
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
“I would appreciate your assistance. Skallox is still working on taking apart that old qwardian weapon.” Ratchet slid out one slim tentacle to gesture towards the citadel, then looked back at Bleez with a pout on his tiny mouth, his small eyes staring at her lidlessly.
The Red Angel folded her arms, turning away slightly but not going, an absent growl releasing a trickle of plasma down her chin. “Why not get Razer?”
“He'll tell Atros that I lost Veon.”
“Why not Zilius?”
“He'll tell Atros that I lost Veon.”
“Laira?”
Ratchet didn't respond.
Bleez chewed the inside of her cheek irritably, causing more blood to leak from her mouth. “Why me? Why won't I tell Atrocitus?”
“You'd never do something Atros wanted you to do if you knew he wanted it.” The red-armored alien answered matter-of-factly. “Which you do.”
There was a tense pause. “Alright, let's make this quick,” Bleez's claws dug into her palm as she made a fist, and shimmering scarlet beams pieced themselves together to form her bone wings. She lifted herself up into the atmosphere, looking down at the little floating mass of tentacles and redlight. “But if you lose Veon again and think I'm going to help you, you're dead wrong.”
“Of course, fair enough.” Ratchet lifted himself alongside the havanian and reshaped his armor, fitting into a more aerodynamic shape. “I have a trace on his ring, so he shouldn't be difficult to locate – just restrain.”
“Good, someone I can vent some rage on.” Bleez started to move upwards, but then paused. “That reminds me.” She whirled in midair, laying her eyes on Ratchet. “Why do you always seem so calm? You're a Red Lantern just like the rest of us, yet you always seem... so composed. What makes you different?”
“I'm just as angry as the rest of you,” Ratchet burbled back. “I just don't have the energy to express it. Let's go.”
The two red lanterns shot off, scarlet coronas forming around them as they broke past the atmosphere and started gliding out into deep space. A sun not far away forced the ring to work double-time, protecting their fronts from the heat and their backs from the cold. Veon had broken out of the kennel no more than an hour ago, and with his lack of focus he hadn't gotten far – Ratchet's trace on his ring placed him as lost in an asteroid field.
The assessment had been correct, as was made obvious when the first spray of rocky dust came swirling towards them. Veon was destroying the asteroids rather than attempting to navigate through them. Taking out his rage on them.
“He's such a tortured creature,” Ratchet sighed. “Every day I contemplate removing his ring and telling Atros he did it himself. Ending his pain.”
“You would deny him vengeance,” Bleez growled, blood leaking from her mouth and drifting away into the open space. “Make his pain worth nothing. If you deny him that, I will deny you the same thing.”
“This is why I like you, Bleez,” Ratchet smiled a tiny smile. “You never veil your threats. But you're correct – that's why I let him continue to suffer and burn. It pains me every second.”
“Get Zilius to take over his care,” Bleez said, gazing out into the asteroid field and watching Veon vent his pain. They didn't need to get him right away – let him enjoy himself. “He enjoys watching others suffer.”
“You remark on him as if you don't share that trait,” Ratchet said quietly. He had to be subtle, here. He wasn't in the best place to antagonize Bleez – if she directed her rage on him, there was nothing stopping her from framing Veon for the attack.
The havanian's wings folded behind her, though she continued to watch Veon rather than turning to Ratchet. “I enjoy the suffering of those who deserve it. It's not my fault most of them do. Zilius is a monster.”
“Perhaps,” Ratchet nodded his bloated head and shifted his armor, forming it into a more combat-ready model as a sound rang out through space, picked up by the rings. A roar. “Veon's found something more frisky than an asteroid.”
The two zoomed forward, their rings leaving crimson trails behind them as they quickly maneuvered throughout the asteroid field, getting closer to Veon. The violet-skinned alien had a full-stream column of bile shooting from his maw, crashing into a massive green shield – a shield created by three combined lanterns. Small cracks began to form around the edges.
“Stop him!” Bleez barked, tilting her wings to slide around Veon's rapidly-pulsing figure, casting out a streamlined red disc to put another barrier between Veon and the green shield. A sound of struggle heralded the column of blood redirecting, spraying throughout space as Ratchet folded his armored tentacles around Veon, binding him and beginning to lock him down with complex constructs.
A binding redlight mask created by Bleez herself finished off Veon's thrashing portable prison, and as the commotion died down, so did the green shield. Behind it were three Green Lanterns.
Bleez's eyes narrowed, blood gushing down her chin as she growled out a singular name, just one of the three. “...Gardner.”
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