Green Lantern's Protégée

41: "The Big Bang I"

Coast City

December 28, 13:13 EDT

    The sky was sunny and clear, washing Cyra with warmth as her and Charlie walked side by side on the sidewalk. Surfers, shoppers, and beach-goers of all types hustle by, laughing with friends or yelling after love ones. For a moment, Cyra could see herself doing those things not so long ago.

It was almost impossible to believe that every action has led up to this moment. Like when all the particles in space came together in one big burst that made all the ever-expanding galaxies that was then stuffed into a jar and put on a shelf—The Big Bang, some call it. This was Cyra's Big Bang.

A lot has changed, Cyra realized. But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

"And then Vega dared to me to chug this galleon of expired milk—" Charlie went on with dramatic hand motions, recounting his tales of adventures with her brother at a victory party with the rest of the football team—with consisted of disgusting dares and throwing heavy objects at each other.

Charlie smiled, and Cyra blinked at the large shift between victorious storytelling to such a bittersweet bliss that poisoned his voice, "I think that's a nice last moment to have on Earth to look back on."

    "What are you talking about?" Cyra scoffed. "It's not like they're ejecting all the losers into space anytime soon."

Charlie didn't respond, just grabbed her hand and began to led her away from the crowds. "C'mon, I wanna show you something."

"Unless it's a fast food place, I'm not interested."

    "Trust me," Charlie said, and for some reason his words sent off a swarm into her stomach, "You'll want to see this."

    "If you say so," Cyra shrugged, allowing herself to be dragged along. "But if there's not food, I'll be very disappointed."

    Charlie's chuckle was like shattering glass.

    Cyra heard it before she saw it.

    A thundering sound burst through the sky, like a bong on a drum that stretched over the whole atmosphere. Cyra's head jerked up to see a burning chunk like a star arcing down towards them. Cyra's feet suddenly leaped, Charlie grunting as Cyra tackled him to the ground, shielding him.

    The comet soared overhead, landing at least a mile away. The acidic fuels in the air singed Cyra's nose. Her heart screamed what her voice would not, trying to break free from the cage that was her chest. She pushed herself to her feet, her knees shaking. Almost becoming comet chow can do that to a person.

Charlie got up without aid, his green eyes blazing.

    "It's actually happening," Charlie breathed, but Cyra assumed it was a trick of her ears—his real words covered by the thumping of her pulse in her head.

"I have to go!" Cyra turned to sprint away for cover so she could go all Green Lantern when Charlie's sharp grab at her wrist stopped her. She turned back, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "What?"

Charlie shook his head, almost pitifully. "We're both going to go."

He began to lead her again, towards where the meteorite struck the Earth. Cyra's voice died on her tongue. Charlie looked straight ahead, as if Cyra was just a weight he had to tug along for the time being. His tongue licked his lips and an intense edge grew on his features, turning him into an object of stone. It was the same look some of the older Lanterns had after many years of seeing many battles—a person on a mission till the end. Cyra's throat clenched up.