[center][h1][color=DarkSlateGray][b]G R E E N  L A N T E R N[/b][/color][/h1][/center]

[i][b]Weeks ago:[/b][/i]

	Riding the Metropolis monorails during the noon rush-hour was just as busy as always, meaning, that there was no room to be comfortable. If you were lucky to get a seat you had someone's briefcase being gently pushed into your personal space, that or someone was gingerly trying to spare you from their buttox being smashed into you during the hard turns. But if you were forced to stand and use the grips to steady yourself you had to decide if you wanted to be polite and not crash into the other passengers, or you could simply go limp, as was the case with the man standing in front of Scott Mason. He was either asleep or simply didn't care.

Scott didn't care either, he was busy using the man's backside as a makeshift easel. Glancing back and forth from the wall-mounted TV and his sketch, he happily continued his work on an olympian figure. 

"You look happy, something nice happen to you?" A stranger next to him asked.

Scott grinned as he replied. "Oh yeah, I'm going to be a comic artist for DC!" 

"DC? The comic company?"

"Mhm."

"Good job, kiddo."

"Thanks, man." Scott continued to smile, it was a good morning, and a good ride over. He was always a little hesitant to ride the public rail, usually it's crowded outside the really dead hours, but having casual conversations like that were nice. His sketch was almost complete, but it was time to go, so he hastily stuffed it into his own briefcase.

"Attention, next stop: Downtown Main Street." The trains automated voice sounded.

That was the end of that. He spent the next half-hour walking, downtown was a big place after all. Scott didn't get lost though, he had spent many days personally e-mailing and visiting their production building. If there's a will there's a way, right? Except, he never made it.

Before he moved to metropolis his sister, Alexis, told him not to. She had said that places like Metropolis and Gotham were too dangerous, too many 'incidents' as the news called them. But he put his faith in Metropolis, it had Superman after all. Except, he hadn't been seen in awhile, and it had been even longer since he had seen his hero.

As it so happens, most civilians don't actually see or know what happened. Many interviews of victims quote them as saying some variation of: "All I know is Superman rescued me." Or "I just ran." Then the everyday person just has to rely on any follow up from the heroes, the police, or the news, but not everything gets into the papers.

Only ten minutes away from his destination, an explosion rocked the block, the parking garage he was standing next to had been damaged somehow. Its walls crumbled and large chunks of cement began to fall. He could easily escape, as well as many of the adults nearby, but one of the smaller hunks had fallen on a kid and knocked him out.

Out of naivete and instinct, Scott rushed to his side, and tried to rush the both of them out. However, something was now stopping his leg, he had only time to fall forward before he realized he wasn't getting out. His last conscious action was to cover the boy with his own body, maybe being a shield might spare at least him.

What could I have done?

What [i]should[/i] I have done? 

Those were his last thoughts before complete blackness surrounded him.

[hr]
[i][b]Much Earlier:[/b][/i]

"Alan, are you still worrying?" An white-haired woman with dozens of wrinkles asked a similar looking man sitting next to her. The both of them were leaning close to each other on an faded looking maroon couch. Paintings of old days and friends adorned their spacious walls.

"No, Molly, just curious is all." The old man, Alan Scott, watched the television. Just more reports from the international news, sometimes they would feature a story from the Daily Planet and Gotham Gazette. He watched quietly, rubbing a certain green piece on his other hand.

Molly placed a hand gently over his. "It looks to be more than just curiosity."

Alan shook his head. "I can't go out anymore, not like that. Superheroes is an young man's game." He laughed softly. "Ohh, I don't think I'd be able to sling it as well anymore." The both of them smiled and just sat in the moment, even as the news reported some problem across the globe.

"Then lets give it a rest for today." Molly said, shutting off the TV. Alan chuckled again. 

"I think that's what I've been doing for thirty years." Alan said, after a few moments Molly got up to leave, the smell of eggs and sausage began to fill the air in her place. But in the quiet that followed, a new voice spoke up.

[i][color=8dc73f]"Alan Scott. Thoust are not forced to fight for eternity. Thine battle is over, I may relinquish thou from this responsibility."[/color][/i] This voice was deep, but not in a scary way, hearing it once brought Alan strength during hard times.

Alan nodded, and took off his ring. "It might be for the best. Please, find someone else, someone who can continue in my footsteps as the next [color=00a651][i][b]Green Lantern[/b][/i][/color]."