The Burden of the Green Flame
Regarding the Green Flame, Luke felt far more reverence than joy.
If Kryptonians represented the physical pinnacle of the DC world, the Green Flame was the absolute limit of the soul. Luke had never seen anyone survive its attack for more than three seconds.
If it were merely a superpower, that would be one thing; at least he could trace its origin. But it wasn't.
Luke had no idea where this thing came from or what its purpose was. Though he could skillfully control it, he often kept it at a distance.
He had no choice. It was simply too terrifying—it could be considered the bane of all organic life.
As Villian's soul became its fuel, all her memories became a part of Luke's being.
Luke had no interest in prying into her life. After obtaining the necessary scientific knowledge, he shifted the memory playback to the moment of Villian's death: a short man, a large head, bald, half-closed eyes, and a rather indifferent expression...
Luke picked up a pencil and sketched the face from his memory onto a piece of paper.
"Ava, find this person."
Soon, a personal file appeared on the virtual screen.
"Hector Hammond, thirty-three years old, graduated from Harvard University, a professor of cellular biology. His father, Adam Hammond, is a Democratic Senator and former Coast City Mayor, currently serving in the Department of Defense."
In addition to the main information, the file also recorded Hector Hammond's personal habits, hobbies, childhood and young adult experiences, economic status, social status, and so on.
Luke read through it carefully, then set the matter aside.
No matter what Hector had become, whether it was Parallax or the Parallax Entity itself, it didn't concern him. He had more pressing issues to deal with right now.
Everyone harbors a kind of obsession, and even after the soul dies, that obsession doesn't fade. This was true for Villian, too. With her soul now consumed by Luke, the deep-seated obsession she held became a tricky problem for him to handle.
Zamaron is different from Earth; it is an absolute matriarchal society. Women are the leaders, and men are merely tools for providing sperm, making up less than 5% of the total population.
You read that correctly: only five men for every hundred Zamarons. On average, one man has to deal with twenty women. Does that sound idyllic? Highly sought after?
Unfortunately, the gap between fantasy and reality is significant. In Zamaron society, in some tribes, heterosexuality is even labeled as vulgar and is despised by everyone.
A Zamaron man might never find a female partner in his entire life.
Villian's lover was a member of the Violet Lantern Corps, just like her. He was ambushed during an off-world mission, and his body was vaporized, leaving only half of his head.
Villian couldn't accept her beloved's death, so she converted the half-head into a kind of synthetic AI, hoping that she could somehow resurrect him in the future.
This act was forbidden on Zamaron and absolutely not allowed.
Knowing she couldn't hide it for long, Villian volunteered for a mission, taking her lover's head with her to search for the Queen's successor in other star systems.
"Lover? Resurrection?"
Luke shook his head. He returned to the second floor, opened the secret compartment in the metal sphere, and took out a well-preserved nutrient tank.
"This is your obsession?"
Luke was speechless, looking at the half-head submerged in the green liquid.
Resurrection?
Are you kidding? Half a head is left, and the memories are gone. How can he be resurrected? Even if cloning technology were used, the result would be an entirely different person.
But if he didn't attempt the resurrection, that obsession would linger in his mind, keeping him up at night.
"Now I'm in trouble."
Luke scratched his head, feeling a headache coming on.
The FBI Meeting
Inside the FBI's Coast City field office, Steven Martin, exhausted from a busy day, leaned back in his chair, his head aching from the issues that had cropped up.
The meteor case had yet to show any progress, and now they had a dry corpse case on their hands.
The police were utterly useless; unable to solve the case themselves, they just dumped it on them, treating the FBI like an emergency fire department.
"Useless, all useless!"
Steven kicked his chair away, hands on his hips, clearly agitated.
His deputy whispered, "Boss, people from headquarters are here."
Steven nodded, straightened his clothes, and took a few subordinates with him to the fourth-floor conference room.
Pushing the door open, he saw a figure who shouldn't have been there:
"Amanda Waller?"
Amanda calmly extended her right hand. "Hello."
Steven didn't shake her hand. Instead, he looked toward the head of the conference table, at a white-haired old man wearing wire-rimmed glasses. The man was Walker Tyrant, an FBI high-ranking official and one of the current Director's three assistants, primarily responsible for liaison and security work in several Western states.
"Sir, if I'm not mistaken, this is an internal meeting."
Walker said quietly, "Amanda has a special investigation order from the White House."
Steven said no more and took his assigned seat. Amanda sat across from him.
Once everyone was seated, Walker slowly began,
"Today's meeting will focus on two points: first, the meteor case; and second, the dry corpse case."
"Steven, you lead off."
Steven glanced at Amanda Waller, then walked up to the computer. He projected the collected intelligence onto the screen, including eyewitness testimonies, crime scene photos, post-event analysis, and case deductions. All the information boiled down to two photographs.
One was of Luke, and the other was of Carol Ferris.
Amanda said darkly, "It appears our targets are aligned."
With that, she handed several files to the main FBI officials.
After reading the contents of the files, Steven frowned deeply.
"The matter of Carol Ferris being the Violet Lantern Woman is only a suspicion on our part. We have no evidence. Do you?"
"No."
Steven sneered, "Making such a deduction without evidence. Heh, you're still the same as ever."
"A reasonable deduction will eventually become reality."
Amanda's response was as simple and direct as her methods.
Walker closed his file. "Carol Ferris is the only daughter of Carl Ferris, Chairman of Ferris Aircraft. She currently serves as the company's Executive Director. Ferris Aircraft has close ties with the Department of Defense. To arrest her, you must have concrete evidence proving she was responsible for the meteor event." He paused, then added with a serious tone,
"Without evidence, you cannot move against her."
Amanda was silent for a moment. Then she said, "Her boyfriend, Luke Shaw, is a good point of entry."
Upon hearing this, Steven let out a strange laugh. Not just him, but the other FBI agents in the room broke into open, unrestrained mockery.
Amanda's expression soured.
"If you gentlemen have a problem with me, just say it directly. There's no need to direct your laughter at a woman willing to give her life for her country."
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