The Corps had their thoughts back, mostly, even if it was a constant struggle to maintain composure and professionalism when all one wanted to do was give into the call of blood and the rage pulsing through their veins.

There was so much injustice on this one planet alone; two Red Lanterns had been called on it.

The other was with the Corps, flitting about in the black of space and doing the bidding of Bleez and Atrocitus like a good lapdog. Maria Hill's allegiances did not change simply because of jewelry, and so she remained on Earth, righting wrongs and saving people much as she had before.

She'd been a cop, once, before the Ring had found her. She'd been a detective, and had seen too many unavenged wrongs, and she'd gone on with her job with a solid pit of rage bubbling in her soul at the iniquities and evil in the world. She'd taken a leave of absence after the Ring had found her, and had ended up quitting in order to focus on controlling her abilities and use her own damned rules. 

Chicago wasn't quite the wretched hive of scum and villainy that New York was, she told herself as she flew over the clouds and reached to the ground below looking for the pangs of rage that called for vengeance. She could do more... good in New York. She'd be planetary, of course; one should look after the planet if one could.

She finally lighted on a rooftop and leaned over the parapet to stare into the steaming heart of the city. Someone would need her, and very soon. Then she could head to the Middle East, and probably never leave; there was enough rage there to feed the entire Corps.

She did not turn when she heard a footstep on the roof, rather she turned and held up both hands in a mocking parody of surrender. Then she smiled, the red trim on her stylized police uniform glowing in the darkness. "I can smell your rage."