DC: Rise Of The Kryptonian Tyrant

The monitoring system for the underground research institute was connected to the ground base, a vulnerability that allowed Bardi to use Hera to take control of their electronic networks, weapon systems, and other facilities.

Yet, just as he had ordered Hera to hack and dominate the military base and underground research systems, General Vic had sent a message requesting a call.

Coincidence? Or was his timing deliberate?

Or worse, had Bardi overlooked something critical, leading General Vic to discover what was happening?

Bardi carefully analyzed the situation. After he had killed Slade, he'd made sure to destroy most of the monitoring equipment on the fourth sublevel. Nothing from that area could have been transmitted to the ground base.

And in this era of crude technology, there was no way they could detect the existence of Hera's advanced artificial intelligence so quickly.

"Slade? Bori?"

General Vic's voice came again, sharp and demanding.

Bardi smirked faintly. He dismissed the possibility of being discovered, it had to be a coincidence.

"They're already dead," Bardi replied coldly. At the same time, he instructed Hera to pull up all the monitoring feeds from the underground research institute.

The screens showed that soldiers aboveground were advancing methodically, step by step, and had already reached the second underground level. Their equipment was heavily reinforced, their firepower far greater than before. It was clear they were well aware of the carnage Bardi had caused and were prepared for a fight.

Bardi then accessed another feed, this time focused on Jenny. During his battle with Slade, elite soldiers had managed to enter the lower levels and evacuate survivors. Among them, 31 soldiers and Jenny had been rescued and transferred to the medical facilities on the ground level.

Seeing this, Bardi narrowed his eyes.

"Barmulodi!"

General Vic's voice suddenly snapped through the speakers.

"Hmm."

Bardi responded indifferently, his tone devoid of emotion. General Vic had no leverage against him now. At best, all the general could do was send more soldiers to their deaths.

Bardi was ready for that eventuality. He had already planned to release the base's toxic gas to wipe out any advancing forces.

And it wouldn't matter if they wore gas masks. The second-tier gas, dichloroethyl sulfide—better known as mustard gas—was designed to penetrate through skin.

The base was equipped with three levels of poisonous gas: the third-tier gas, hydrogen cyanide, required inhalation to cause poisoning; the second-tier, mustard gas, worked via skin contact; and the first-tier, VX nerve gas, was so deadly that even Bardi wasn't sure if he could survive its effects. He avoided that option altogether.

"Barmulodi, I know you're not a fool. You can endure this situation, which means you're capable of rational thought. Let's cooperate."

General Vic's voice was measured, though it carried a restrained fury. Slade, his trusted subordinate, was dead. Dean Bori was dead. At least 300 personnel in the underground research institute had been slaughtered. Even as a general, this was a nightmare for him to manage. And if the true purpose of the research conducted here were exposed, it would spell disaster for him personally.

But what had happened was done. It was irreversible. What mattered now was minimizing the fallout and salvaging whatever he could.

"Talk," Bardi replied in a tone of icy disinterest, his attention already divided.

He pulled up a detailed topographic map of the area, studying it carefully. Planning his exit was a priority.

The military base was situated in Nevada, not far from the Utah border. His gaze swept across the map, tracing an escape route to the east. Past Colorado, his focus landed on Kansas.

The House of El. Kal-El, have you already arrived on Earth?

Bardi's eyes glinted with a cold, calculating light.

"I can give you anything you want," General Vic's deep voice came through, heavy with restrained desperation. "Become a researcher under my command, help me study genetic engineering, strengthen my forces, and I promise you'll gain more than you can imagine."

His tone was firm, offering no illusion of sentimentality. To him, Slade and Bori were just pawns, disposable tools to achieve his goals. If they were gone, they could simply be replaced by someone of greater value. And Bardi, with his knowledge and abilities, far surpassed them in importance.

If he could truly secure Bardi's cooperation, it would be worth more than the combined efforts of a hundred Boris.

"Alright," Bardi replied flatly, his tone almost dismissive. "Come here now, and let's talk."

The agreement came so quickly and with so little sincerity that General Vic immediately grew suspicious. He could almost see it in his mind, walking into the same room as Bardi would likely mean his instant death, no chance of negotiation.

General Vic fell silent for a moment, his chest tight with anger. Finally, his voice erupted in a cold, sharp shout:

"Barmulodi!"

"You think you can just run away?"

"What I hold in my hands, Barmulodi, stays in my hands. Over your head are 15,000 well-equipped soldiers, large-caliber heavy machine guns that make automatic rifles look like toys, and BGM-109B Tomahawk missiles powerful enough to obliterate you to dust."

"Your so-called power is nothing in the face of what I have."

General Vic's words were venomous, his frustration boiling over at what he perceived as Bardi's arrogance.

But Bardi merely sneered. "General Vic, you should be grateful you're not at this military base. Otherwise, you'd already be dead like the rest of them."

That single sentence lit a fuse within General Vic. His anger finally erupted in a beastly roar.

"Barmulodi! You either choose to live, or you choose to die!"

The laboratory's destruction, the death of Slade, and the carnage caused by Bardi had all driven General Vic to the edge. If he couldn't harness Bardi's potential for his own benefit, then he'd settle for his corpse.

"General Vic," Bardi said coldly, "you'll thank your luck someday that you're not here right now."

General Vic's frustration was audible in the sharp breath he released through his nose. Without another word, he terminated the call.

---

At the military base aboveground, the command center bustled with activity under the leadership of Brigadier General Cagle.

Though Cagle outranked Slade on paper, he was well aware that, in General Vic's eyes, he didn't measure up. Slade's capability had always eclipsed Cagle's. The fact that Slade had access to the underground research institute, while Cagle had never set foot there was proof enough of this disparity.

The slight had left Cagle simmering with resentment. Slade's excellence in every field, from combat and command to firearms training, only deepened the sting of his own inadequacies.

Even in operations concerning the underground research institute, Slade often dictated orders to the ground forces, treating Cagle like a mere puppet. It was humiliating, infuriating even.

So when news came that Slade had been overpowered in the underground facility, allowing an alien to wreak havoc, Brigadier General Cagle felt a small, fleeting sense of satisfaction.

You're not so invincible after all, Slade.

But as the death toll mounted, his satisfaction was quickly replaced by dread. The losses were catastrophic, too great for anyone to bear responsibility. And as much as he loathed Slade, Cagle couldn't deny the fallout from the massacre would affect him too.

"Damn you, Slade," Cagle muttered under his breath. Three or four hundred lives had been lost. That kind of failure couldn't be swept under the rug, and someone had to shoulder the blame. That was why he had contacted General Vic earlier, making sure to emphasize Slade's failure.

"Brigadier General Cagle, call from General Vic," a soldier reported.

Cagle's expression froze. He reached for the phone, bracing himself.

The voice on the other end was cold and filled with suppressed fury.

"Cagle," General Vic began, his words like ice. "Kill the alien. Use any means necessary, heavy machine guns, missiles, I don't care. Blast him into pieces. I don't want to hear about any more failures. Slade has already failed... and he's dead."

Cagle's pupils constricted. Slade... dead. Just like that.

"Yes, General," Cagle finally managed to reply, his voice stiff. He hung up, still processing the news. Slade was gone, and now it fell on him to deal with the aftermath.

---

In the underground research institute, Bardi's expression turned colder as he listened through Hera to General Vic's orders to the ground base.

The corners of his mouth curled into a sneer. Without hesitation, he issued his commands to Hera.

"Release the second and third levels of dichloroethyl sulfide gas."

"Hera, list all facilities within the ground military base."

"Take control of their entire signal network."

"Open the missile silo."

"Load all missile types—BGM-109G Tomahawk land-launched cruise missiles, MIM-104 Patriot surface-to-air missiles, short-range missiles, medium-range missiles, surface-to-surface missiles, and surface-to-air missiles. Lock all targets onto the ground military base."

"Calculate the blast radius and ensure everything is wiped out except for the medical building and the helipad."

***

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