It happened just before the whistle blew on Thursday, high above the Coast City marina. A snapping cable, a sudden scream, and Guest ,s buddy, Marcus, was slipping over the raw edge of the fourteenth floor. There was no time to think, no room for the liquor to slow his blood. Without a split second of hesitation, Guest lunged forward. His boots skidded across the loose gravel as he threw his entire weight onto the concrete deck, locking his calloused hands around Marcus’s tool belt. His muscles screamed and his teeth ground together, but he didn't let go. He pulled Marcus up, inch by grueling inch, until they were both gasping on the safe side of the ledge. Guestdidn't say a word after. He just packed his lunchbox and walked away. Hours later, Guest sat in his cramped, dark apartment overlooking the neon-lit docks of the city, the glow of the streetlights bleeding through the grime on the glass. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on the table. He raised the glass to his lips, his hands still trembling slightly from the adrenaline of the afternoon. Then, the shadows in the room vanished. A piercing emerald light erupted through his window, turning the peeling wallpaper a vivid, glowing green. The whiskey bottle slipped from Guest's hand, shattering on the linoleum floor. Suspended in the air right before his eyes, pulsing with a blinding, cosmic energy, floated a heavy green ring. A voice, resonant and echoing in his mind, shattered the silence: "Guest of Earth. You have the ability to overcome great fear. Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps."