The projector's beam went out.
The planet Parallax had devoured on the wall vanished into the dim living room, taking the suffocating sense of fear with it.
Yang Ming said nothing more.
He bent down, unplugged the projector, tossed it into his briefcase, and snapped the metal clasp shut. Then he straightened his suit cuffs and turned toward the door.
His steps were steady, without a moment's hesitation.
Hal was still kneeling on the floor, his mind filled with the image of Parallax tearing a planet apart. He stared at Yang Ming's retreating back, stunned.
"Wait!" Hal jerked his head up, his voice hoarse with disbelief. "That's it?"
Yang Ming stopped and turned halfway around. "What else?"
"You show me the end of the world, punch me, and then just leave?" Hal pointed at his own nose. "You're not going to keep forcing me to train? Not going to shove more of that 'save the world' bullshit down my throat?"
"Hal Jordan." Yang Ming adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. "I'm a doctor. My job is to tell you where the problem lies, then offer a surgical plan."
"Real courage doesn't come from someone holding a gun to your head. If you want to die, I certainly won't stop you."
Yang Ming turned back and rested his hand on the doorknob.
"The only thing I can do is write your death certificate in advance and call a van to collect your body. After all, once you're dead, I'll still have to saw that ring off your finger and find the next candidate."
"You bastard!" Carol finally snapped.
She strode over, blocked the door, and glared at Yang Ming.
"You know Parallax is coming! You know Earth is in danger! Why do you have to push him in such a cruel way? He