That disgusting power.
He tried to reinfuse Zod's mind with the weakness, horror, and despair that had been forcibly removed from his genes.
They forced him to kneel, wailing, bowing down to primal fear.
"Well--!"
Zod's knees slammed heavily onto the deck.
The heavily armored knee struck the ground with a dull thud.
The half-ton outer armor also lost its balance.
As Zod struggled in agony, his two large hands, like eagle claws, dug tightly into his own chest.
They wanted to pull that malevolent creature out of the ground.
"General!"
Without hesitation, Faora, standing beside Zod, held the plasma blade in front of her and paced forward like a cautious female leopard.
The guards in the back row moved slowly with Faora's steps, silently watching Zod kneeling.
"Aaaaaah--Get out of here...!"
Zod, his face contorted, half-pressed down, and suddenly raised his left arm.
With Zod's command.
The nine people had to stop.
In Krypton's military culture, military orders are inviolable.
Even though Faora and the others were worried, they could only watch helplessly as Zod writhed on the ground, unable to offer any assistance.
Cold sweat trickled down his chin, pouring onto the scorching hot collar of his armor, instantly hissing into a wisp of whitish steam.
Under extreme restraint and control, the skin around his eye cracked open.
Fine blood vessels stretched wildly from the corners of the eyes along the iris, spreading like a spider web.
From the moment the embryo is sequenced and shaped in the creation pool.
The specific model for the "warrior" was designed to suit his role, stripping him of most of his pain.
But at this moment, what resided deep within Zod's brain was not pain.
Rather, it is "fear".
It crawled between his nerves like a living thing.
"Look at the ruins beneath your feet... Zod."
It was a thick, cold current of emotion.
Following his optic nerve, he dissected the shattered remains of his home planet layer by layer.
Zoom in again.
"Look... two hundred billion people, an empire that has lasted for tens of thousands of years, vanished in agony..."
Billions of mouths simultaneously pounded against Zod's ear bones.
A fierce roar, a desperate cry, near death.
The lungs exploded.
Infants, the elderly, priests... the wails pieced together, constantly scraping against Zod's already fragile sanity.
"Thirty years of night have been too cold, Zod..."
Two hundred billion remnant souls hang above your head... The glimmer of light you chase is nothing but a piece of withered bone.
That baby... was a rebellious bastard from the start.
Old laws cannot bring back the dead souls. Suppressing this hatred, they transform their pent-up anger into primal fear...
That sinful star is right ahead!
Peel open the chests of those creatures, drain their marrow and blood, and use billions of fresh flesh and blood to offer as a sacrifice to the souls of the fallen tribesmen...
"Get... out...!!"
Zod roared, enduring the throbbing pain in his head.
"Hehe..."
Soon, this foreign consciousness transformed into a tangible, oppressive force, weighing heavily on his back.
The bones screamed in agony.
The swaying of his body and even his soul made it hard for Zod to breathe.
His whole body was hunched over, and his eyes were bloodshot to the extreme.
But he didn't move.
His knees remained firmly wedged into the sunken deck, and his torso slowly straightened from its hunched position.
One inch.
Another inch.
"You're afraid, Zod... you're afraid of being the last..."
At this moment, the babbling in my mind began to become impatient.
The phantom of a giant, dark yellow worm churned and roared in his mind, its wings flapping.
Yanran transformed into thousands of sticky tentacles, enveloping his consciousness.
"Madman..."
He let out a high-pitched, mournful whistle.
Immediately, that immense will began to recede like a tide, seeping into the abyss.
Suddenly, all was empty.
Zod's heart pounded, then stopped beating as if it had stopped.
"Thump--"
His tall body lost its support and fell straight forward, his forehead touching the ground.
"General--!!"
Faora's shouts gradually faded into the distance.
In the last second before Zod lost consciousness, he vaguely saw...
A wisp of obscure, murky yellow light suddenly flashed across his pupils in the reflection of the shiny deck.
Then, everything went dark.
There were no dreams.
In that synthesized darkness, Zod felt himself immersed in some kind of sticky, bitter pool of water.
All around were countless faces... the dead senator, the suicide technician, and Joe El's perpetually sorrowful and hopeful, wicked face.
"You can't save it... Zod."
Joe El's voice echoed in the hollow.
"We are all ashes of the old era... and should perish along with Rao."
"Go to hell!"
In the darkness, Zod instinctively wanted to draw his sword, to tear apart that arrogant, self-righteous face.
But his mind seemed trapped by something, powerless to change it.
He could only roar in the abyss.
"It was you cowards who worshipped nature who destroyed the entire civilization!"
"To ensure the survival of civilization, we must fight! This is a bloody war of civilizations!"
As for you, you bastard...
I'll crush his knees and stab him through the chest with my bare hands.
Reach into his chest cavity and tear the Codex out alive, so that our flame may continue!
In the dark abyss, that dark yellow spark ignited once more.
This time, it no longer exerted pressure.
Instead, it was like a gentle, long snake, slowly coiling around his spine.
Those thoughts ignited by anger are gradually fanned into a more violent and cold companionship.
Fear is the best shackle to release anger.
"Laugh--!!"
The hissing sound of the pressurized valve venting air filled my ears.
Zod suddenly opened his eyes.
The out-of-focus vision is still blurry.
Then, the distinctive dark silver dome of the medical bay inside Black Zero gradually came into his view.
The light-absorbing panels surrounding the entire medical pod are slowly rotating.
The triple beam of light overhead emitted a faint, eerie blue glow, moving back and forth above his chest.
Only then did Zod come to his senses.
He was lying flat on a suspended physiotherapy bed.
His battle armor had been removed, leaving only a close-fitting nanopolymer liner.
Four magnetoresistive loops were fastened to his wrists and ankles, adjusting their tightness autonomously in response to the twitching of his muscles.
It emitted a barely audible buzzing sound.
"General?!"
The rapid clatter of boots, accompanied by a woman's voice, could be heard.
Soon, a lithe figure swiftly cut into his field of vision above.
At this moment, Faora removed her helmet, her eyes revealing barely concealed fear.
Behind her, two medical officers dressed in black robes stood with their hands at their sides, heads bowed, silent.
Zod seemed to realize something.
He first checked his limbs.
It felt heavy, like being filled with molten lead, but the excruciating pain of having something foreign invade my mind had disappeared.
"Release the constraint lock."
Zod spoke.
Faora hesitated for a moment, but still waved her finger, and the magnetic clasp popped open in response.
Zod propped himself up on the edge of the treatment bed and sat up.
How long was I unconscious?
He asked coldly.
"Four sidereal hours, General."
Faora took a half step forward, lowered her voice, and even subconsciously shielded the medical officer behind her.
"After you collapsed, the entire ship went on high alert... We used the mainframe's neural computed tomography scanner to take three samples from you."
This includes deep brainwave mapping, subcutaneous circulation, and gene chain backflush self-testing.
"Oh? And then what happened?"
Zod turned his head, his deep eyes landing on Faora's face.
"..."
Faora pursed her lips.
She seemed to see a fleeting glimpse of yellow in Zod's pupils.
"All negative... General."