The Temple of Svahadipika.
Screaming an oath, the grizzled man pulled the trigger of his handgun.
Chloe instinctively raised her arms to cover her face. A green energy field pooled around her, and the round ricocheted off it, embedding itself in one of the many stones lining the walls. The other two rallied quickly, and opened fire on her – all to no effect. When the roar of gunfire dissolved into three clicks as hammers struck nothing in empty chambers, she still stood there, unharmed and unfazed.
She experimentally opened one of her eyes, then the other. The three cultists were rooted to the spot, staring blankly at their useless weapons. When she brought her arms down, she could see that they were trembling in fear. Each step she made towards them was matched by two or three of theirs, staggering backwards. Chloe's lips parted, baring a confident smile.
The three grown men shrieked in terror as they dashed down the dim hallway, throwing their guns this way and that. Chloe focused on the ring, trying to replicate a feat she'd once seen Green Lantern do. Three loops of cord sprouted from the ring, chasing the cultists. Once they caught up with them, they wrapped around each of their waists, and the cord tightened, sending them flying back towards her.
Chloe swung her arm left and right like she was holding a game controller, bashing the three of them against the walls and the ceiling and the floor repeatedly. Once satisfied, she released her grip, and the three lifeless bodies lay slumped on the ground. Her arm felt like it weighed a ton, and she fell to her knees. Even that simple stunt had taken a lot out of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the bearded man stir.
Getting up, she strode over to the man who had ordered the savage death of a girl no older than five or six. The cowed cultist looked up, tongue trying to draw enough saliva to speak. Before he could even try, she kicked him square in the chin, hearing it fracture with a very satisfying CRACK.
Chloe glanced around, finding an alcove between two of the long corridors, pausing to stop and think. What was her next cause of action?
The chanting wasn't stopping, and in fact had started again. There was a new voice in there; an old man with a stentorian voice, giving commands. The rest of the voices were hushed and muted compared to his. Soon, the chanting rose to a new fervor, and a captive's pleading voice now entered the scene. Distant flames roared and spat, not caring.
Chloe sneaked down the corridor, heading closer and closer to the source of the chanting. No more sacrifices. No more immolation of innocent farmers and workers. This ended here. She could simply fly back to camp, and try to pass the night's events off as a bad dream, forgetting she'd ever heard of mystic flames and lost temples. But deep down, she knew that she'd never be able to convince herself that would have been the right thing to do.
It wouldn't be what Green Lantern would have done.
Base camp.
The last of the four-wheel-drives and motorbikes pulled in, and grim-faced Khainese volunteers unloaded from them. Dr. Yen stubbed out his third cigarette, striding out to meet them. Their expressions told the entire story, but he had to know. The mission's main point of contact, a certain (ex-Corporal) Sunan slammed the door of his vehicle, approaching Dr. Yen.
Dr. Yen asked, "Any sign?"
Sunan shook his head. "No."
"Damn."
Sunan patted the lecturer on his shoulder, before leaving to organise his men. Dr. Yen returned to the laptop that he'd been drafting the letter on. He'd hoped that he'd never have to do this, but there it was, the document's mostly-blank page staring at him defiantly, challenging him to tell his student's loved ones that their worst fears had come true.
Dear Mr. Ming Huang,
I regret to inform you that your daughter, Chloe Ming Yu-Lin…
The Atrium of Rites
The farmer struggled every step of the way as the cultists pushed him towards the unlit pyre. He stared wildly at the stars, at the rough-hewn stones of the temple, at the carvings lining said stones. Row after row of ancient Khainese warriors stared back at him, their faces crumbled and worn by the winds of time. Their serene smiles stood at odds with the savage scene they looked upon. The smell of burnt flesh was everywhere.
One of the warriors moved. It turned around, revealing that it was a wizened old man, dressed in ancient armour. His wrinkled flesh was marked by gnarled green glowing scars. Streaks of paint underlined his cold, dead, eyes. The farmer gazed upon him first with confusion, then dawning realisation.
"[You're…]" he stammered, "[No, but that's…]"
"[Impossible]?" The old man finished. "[I have learned that few things in this world are. Men say death is inevitable. Not so. Long after even these stones rot into nothingness, I will persist.]"
"[You cannot be Dara Klahan! He would be a hundred years old by now!]" the man blurted.
"[Oh? You do me a disservice, comrade. My ninetieth birthday is just past. But you are correct, in a sense. I would not even be able to speak, had not glorious Svahadipika blessed me with this!]
He gestured at an installation, hung high above the pyre. It was a strangely-shaped lantern, glowing bright green against the twilight sky.
Dara Klahan finished, "[An incredible relic, powered by devotion, ritual and…sacrifice.]"
At this, he turned to the cultists, ordering them to throw wood and copper onto the stockade. Kerosene was slathered on the wood and metal dust liberally, and the throwing of a single torch was enough to set the verdant flame alight. The cultists began their chant, pressing their hands together in religious reverence.
[Svahadipika…O blessed Svahadipika…
May she reign over the brightest of days,
May she rule through the darkest of nights...]
The cultist behind the farmer prodded his back with the muzzle of his rifle. When he refused to move, he was struck savagely with the butt of the gun, and carried hand and foot towards the fire. He shouted and screamed to the gods above, all to no avail.
[May she brook no evils of the land,
May she sweep away all those in her sight...]
He was flung into the flames, his clothes catching fire first. His rolling and thrashing about did nothing to mute the flames eating at his clothes, his hair, his flesh. Finally, a long, excruciating scream of agony left his burned throat.
[Let us give glory to her,
And let her cleanse this land of blight...]
The lantern glowed brighter and brighter with every word of the incantation. Dara Klahan took step after step down the high path down from the central shrine, basking in the light.
[The might of evil has seen its day,
As they see her power with dism-]
He wheeled around. Gunshots were ringing out from behind the main door. Could the prisoners have staged an escape? Impossible. But then, who was attack-
The doors blew apart in an explosion of emerald energy, revealing a woman. Dara Klahan raised his arms, ordering his men to take up their weapons. However, before any of them could react, she leapt high up in the air, and swept her arms across each other. Two giant green blades followed her gestures, and the cultists' weapons were hurled far from their reach, landing all over the unshorn plains which surrounded the temple.
Chloe descended, heading towards Dara Klahan. As she approached the ground, the cultists began scattering like insects exposed to daylight. Of all of them, only he stood his ground, refusing to be intimidated by this youth. Staring at him, Chloe spoke slowly, the ring translating her words into Khainese.
"It's over. You're not sacrificing anybody else. Ever."
Dara Klahan folded his arms. "I think not."
"Your followers are scattered to the winds. I could level this temple in the blink of an eye if I wanted to."
The old man yawned and walked down the stairs, examining the lantern hanging above both their heads. "Be that as it may, I will persist. That is my blessing…and my curse."
Chloe's eyes narrowed, following Dara Klahan as he paced around the pit where the fire burned like a thing alive, never breaking his gaze at the lantern.
"Do you know who I am, girl?"
"They called you the Green Phoenix."
He rolled his eyes. "A mere appellation."
"You're supposed to be Dara Klahan, the revolutionary hero."
He turned around, asking, "'Supposed'? I am Dara Klahan, Liberator of Udon Khai! I and I alone have discovered the secrets to immortality and infinite power! Behold!"
He raised his arms, muttering an incantation. Green light shone from the lantern and sucked into his skin through his scars, and a green aura formed around his body. He looked down at his glowing fists, smirking with power. Neither noticed the fact that the aura around Chloe's ring had grown, too.
"My forces were scattered once before, and all seemed black. But I survived. Deep in the jungles, I found this mystical lantern, whose flame never burnt out. Men now long dead had inscribed the words needed to unlock its power. Beautiful, terrible, Svahadipika…her power was now mine to use. But perhaps you would benefit from a demonstration."
His palms opened, and he hurled green force at Chloe again and again, cursing and yelling in Khainese. But Chloe's shield didn't waver an inch. If anything, it seemed stronger than ever. The legendary hero began to quake in his boots.
"No! This is…this is…impossible! Power! I need more power!" he screeched, raising his hands to the skies again, beginning to recite the incantation again.
"[Svahadipika…O blessed Svahadipika…
May she reign over the brightest of days,
May she rule through the darkest of nights...]"
Something curious was happening. The lantern glowed again, and so did he, but now it seemed more like he wasn't truly absorbing its power, but channelling it…straight to the ring.
"[May she brook no evils of the land,
May she sweep away all those in her sight...]"
Dara Klahan's flesh turned, and his horror became more and more pronounced. But still he persisted. Chloe, finally realising what was going on, brought the ring in front of her eyes, staring as it pulsed with more and more energy.
"[Let us give glory to her,
And let her cleanse this land of blight...
The might of evil has seen its day,
As they see her power with dismay...]"
Even as skin flaked off old flesh, and the cracks in his skin grew wider and wider, he still continued, as though entranced. He fell to his knees as tendons crumbled to dust in his joints. Chloe reeled in horror, sticking her hand out as far as she could.
She shouted at the ring, screaming, "Stop it! You're killing him!"
But he didn't stop, and neither did it.
"[Thus do we…give glory to…her,
Through the burning…of…this sacred…light…]"
His chanting grew softer and softer as he decomposed on the spot, everything finally ending in silence.
"Stop it! You have to…"
Chloe's warning fell on ears as deaf as they were dead. A distant wind billowed, and Dara Klahan's ashes blew away, leaving an empty suit of armour lying in pieces on the dais. Chloe stared at the ring of power on her finger, still frozen in horror at what she'd just seen. Then, there was one last short scream of pain, far below her, from the pit below the lantern. She scrambled over to the side to see where it'd come from.
The farmer had somehow managed to roll free of the pyre, whose last embers still glowed, but horrific burns covered his entire body. Chloe dashed down, and quickly kneeled down to cut his bonds. He reached out to her with a burned hand, grasping her cheek. Tears streamed down his blackened face, and he struggled to speak.
"Malai…Malai…"
Chloe nodded, even though she didn't quite comprehend. Picking up on this, he spoke once again.
"[My daughter…Malai…]"
She nodded again, this time with understanding. With that last breath, he gave up the ghost, and his hand slipped down to the ground, leaving a trail of ashes on Chloe's face. The atrium suddenly seemed very cold, and the winds crossing it very sharp. Chloe got to her feet, and walked back the same way she'd come.
There was just one last thing to settle.
