Dru-Zod stood before the holographic star map, his hands clasped behind his back. His posture looked unchanged, like a statue of a god of war carved into the battleship's keel, but unease had begun to stir within him.
The green points of light representing his units on the star map were quietly fading, one by one.
At first, he had paid them no mind. Scattered resistance while pursuing Kal-El's allies, a few primitive but irritating traps, the loss of a warrior or two-all of that fell within acceptable limits for a military operation. When the four-person elite squad led by Faora lost communications, he had even assumed she had discovered a crucial lead on the Codex of Life and deliberately entered an energy-shielded zone.
Primitive though this planet was, strange fields that disrupted sensors occasionally existed deep within its crust or in certain ruins.
But now...
They had been out of contact for over twenty-seven Earth hours. Faora might maintain radio silence briefly for tactical reasons, but never this long. She was his deputy, a consummate soldier who understood basic communications discipline.
More importantly, the rate at which other patrols lost contact was rising along an implausible curve.
"Navigation officer, pull up the last known coordinates and mission logs of every unit we've lost contact with."
"Yes, General."
The holographic star map rapidly enlarged, focusing on central North America. Dark red patches marking lost signals were spreading across Kansas and the surrounding area like festering wounds. The coordinates were scattered, seemingly without a pattern. There appeared to be no pattern at all.
"They're ambushing us in the area?"
Like hunters silently eliminating sentries in a dark forest.
Zod was somewhat stunned by his own conjecture. Reason told him it was true, yet reason also told him these enemies could not