Fear My Power

By Michael Weyer

I hadn't intended to turn this into a series but it just seemed too easy to pass up. As always, comments welcomed.

Red: Rage

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Hate, Lord Voldemort believed, was a very underrated emotion.

Hate was what had kept him alive so many years. Hate of having to live with the name of miserable muggles, of being held back by teachers whose power he easily surpassed, of the rules of "society." Hate was what kept him alive when his body was destroyed by an infant of all things. It had kept his spirit going until he could be reborn and reclaim his power.

Hate was what filled him now. Hate and rage as he saw his grand schemes being undone around him.

Framing Potter had been so easy, he didn't know why he hadn't tried it before. It didn't require too much, merely Wormtail's help manipulating the Maurder's Map to make it look like Potter was somewhere he wasn't. Then killing that idiotic giant with Potter's own wand, evidence sprinkled to implicate him. Voldermort supposed he should have killed that Weasley brat but he felt it was better to keep Ginny alive for a time. It might make it more delicious when the truth was revealed and the people learned they had condemned Potter for a crime he had not committed. But it astounded him how quickly the wizarding world was able to turn on their "savior" and sentence him to Azkaban.

It seemed so simple. He had Potter right where he wanted him, allowing him to conquer the wizarding world without having to worry about his interference. Who knew, perhaps a few years in the hell of Azkaban might turn Potter to his side. That would be a true delicious treat, having the one fated to stop him now his willing partner. With their power combined, none could oppose them.

But then…but then came the word that Potter had somehow broke out of Azkaban. That had been bothersome but not troubling. Until the reports came of what was happening. Of Deatheaters and "good" wizards alike coming under attack by a Potter more powerful than ever. One who was no longer playing by the old rules.

Voldemort hadn't believed the fantastic tales of Potter being able to fly and showing bursts of energy. That was until he had seen it first hand. A simple raid on the Ministry turned into a bloodbath when Potter burst in, that bizarre yellow uniform glowing with the same power of the ring on his finger. He began firing off blasts, the ring creating energy forms of some sort that he used to smash aside anyone in his path. It was brutal. It was bloody. It was terrifying…

In a strange way, Voldemort found it beautiful.

He had managed to escape to his home, keeping himself inside while he pondered this. This was no longer the same Harry Potter. The boy had died in Azkaban and whatever came out was…something else. Voldemort knew that. The power he felt off Potter, it was greater than magic, greater than anything he could dream. It was power not of this world, he knew that. Power he would love to have but was currently turned on him.

So he felt that hate grow again. That hate of what he could not control, of being helpless, a feeling he despised above all else. The hate fed his rage, his anger and the knowledge that he'd had the chance to kill Potter before but hadn't taken it.

No one dared disturb Voldemort know but if they had, they would have felt that rage and hate flow off him in waves. The self-control he'd long maintained was gone as he stewed, nothing but anger at the world around him…

And that was when the red glow appeared.

Voldemort was alert as soon as it began, whipping toward the corner of the room with his wand out. It was a red ball, as bright as fire, glowing as it came slowly toward him. It seemed to flow and shift, forming an object that looked like a bright red lantern, complete with a handle. Voldemort frowned in confusion as to what this was, studying it. It took him a moment to realize that the power he was feeling was much like what he'd felt with Potter, if slightly more intense.

"What is this?" he whispered, not expecting an answer. He was thus caught off guard when one came at him.

"Destiny."

A face formed in the air before the lantern and Voldemort had to step back in surprise. The face before him was not a human one. It belonged to a hulking figure whose bulky, wide-shouldered frame was clad in a uniform that resembled the one Potter had been wearing. However, while the mostly black color remained, the rest was as red as the lantern. The face was marked by a huge gaping maw of razor-sharp teeth, the eyes without pupils and the face itself dark red in its craggy skin.

"I am Atrocitus," the alien face said. "I seek those who can fulfill a destiny. Those who can aid in our battle."

"Battle?" Voldemort asked, still wary.

"A battle older and greater than your planet," Atrocitus explained. "But your world will be a key battleground and thus I seek to recruit among you. You….have been chosen."

"For what?" Voldemort demanded. "And why me?"

"Rage fills your heart," the alien said. "Rage against the world around you, at those who have held you back and tried to best you. Hate for those who did you wrong. Rage and hate, they are the emotions needed to be victorious. None can stand against those who wield this power."

The "power" statement got Voldemort's attention. "What sort of power?" he asked. "Like the one Potter now has?"

The alien seemed to snort and it seemed that a spark of flame exited his nostrils as he did. "He is weak as is those who follow him. They proclaim they instill fear but ignore the one within them. They may have anger but not the rage, not the drive, not the power that is needed to achieve what is possible. You do."

Voldemort sniffed. "I do not follow. I lead."

"That is true," Atrocitus noted. "But against the powers that are to come, you cannot win as you are. Only by embracing the power I offer, unlock the rage and hate within you, can you achieve your goals. Only then will all tremble before you and your righteous fury."

Voldemort was quite interested now as a shape formed by the lantern, light flowing together until it came into the shape of a red ring with a lantern-like symbol on it. "Thomas Marvolo Riddle. Your heart has always been filled with anger and hate. Accept this ring and your place among us and your rage will become the greatest power you can imagine. Accept it and know your destiny at last."

Voldemort stared at the glowing ring for a long moment before he reached to grab it. He could feel the power in it, the flowing of energies beyond his ken. Holding it, he reflected on those who had done him wrong over his long life, all the insults paid upon him, all the defeats and setbacks…

And he thought of the one he hated most of all and how this was his chance to finally end the agony. And with that, he slipped the red ring on.

He gasped out as his entire body felt as if it was engulfed in flames from the inside out. He hissed our as his veins seemed to flow with lava and a red glow covered his entire body. The pain was incredible, greater even than his resurrection, which, in a way, this was. As it flowed, words came to his mind that he knew were important.

"With blood and rage of crimson red…"

He let out a scream as he felt his heart explode within his chest yet remained alive, the cavity filled with the red energies that flowed into his body.

"Ripped from a corpse so freshly dead…"

His screams ended as a stream of red liquid vomited out of his mouth. The second it touched the air, it ignited into pure flame and Voldemort realized this was his own heart being incinerated before his eyes yet it didn't seem important.

"Together with our hellish hate…"

The dark robes transformed around his body, forming the same red and black uniform of Atrocitus, the black symbol glowing brightly on his chest. At the same time, his skin went from the pasty white he'd had for so long into a deep crimson.

"We'll burn you all…"

With a final scream of agony, Voldemort threw out his hands and the red ring blasted out fire in a wide circle, igniting half the room in flame and smoke that formed a circle around the transformed figure.

"That is your fate!"

Voldemort stood in the middle of the room as the flames died down yet the red fire remained around him. He could feel it now, the pure unadulterated power of his own rage, knowing the angrier he became, the more powerful he'd grow. His heart was gone, replaced by a lump of energy that fed that power, making Voldemort realize he was no longer truly human. Yet he couldn't really care.

"Welcome to the Red Lantern Corps," Atrocitus said with pride. "I shall leave you to test your powers on this world before you join us. Spread the rage, brother, and let the universe know the strength anger gives us."

"Oh, I will," Voldemort said with an evil smile as the alien face faded away. He gripped the lantern as he let the ring glow and levitate him up off the floor. He'd been changed, he knew that. Anger and hate were all he cared about, the only emotions worth exploring. He was no longer a wizard, no longer a human being, only a monster of red.

And he'd never felt more alive than at just that moment.

He laughed, not noticing the sparks of fire that came from his mouth as he began to fly upward. What good was the fear Potter commanded? Against the fury of pure rage…this pitiful world would burn in fire and tremble at last in his name. And the universe would follow.

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Again, the Corps ideas belong to Geoff Johns, Green Lantern and DC. Do have ideas who might fill the other colors of the universe if the reviews are plentiful enough.