DC: Rise of the Kryptonian Tyrant

Jonathan Kent was Superman's adoptive father, as he was supposed to be.

But because of the existence of Bardi, twelve years ago, during the battle between Earth and Jor-El...

Jor-El would rather sacrifice Superman's adoptive mother than miss the chance to help his son escape. In the end, he did not rescind the order, and Jonathan Kent's wife died in the superluminal vortex, completely erased.

After the incident, Bardi once said—follow him, serve him, and when he could one day dominate the universe and reverse time, he would bring his wife back.

Bardi gave him hope. In the long twelve years that followed, he clung to that fragile hope, refusing to follow his wife into death.

But in truth, ever since that day, while he followed Bardi like one chasing a flicker of light, he had never truly seen or directly faced him.

Sometimes, he would think—

Maybe I was a fool to believe someone could turn back time and save my wife.

But it was the only hope that kept him alive. He constantly fantasized that the back he followed really had the power to bring his wife back.

In his heart, he firmly guarded that tiny sliver of hope, terrified that if someone as great as Bardi were to say there was no way, then all his strength would collapse into nothing, and he wouldn't have the will to go on living in this world.

He desperately wished for Bardi to become stronger, strong enough to break through the universe, reverse time and space, and fulfill his humble wish—to bring his wife back to life.

For that, he would do anything.

Diamond Moon.

On the moon, crystal fluorescence shimmered magnificently. Legionnaires in constant rotation patrolled and guided new recruits.

Across the translucent lunar surface stood the steadily expanding lunar military bases and square-shaped steel barracks.

Inside a two-person lieutenant-level officer's quarters, the cold metal interior was quiet. Everything was neatly arranged. The air was filled with a deep silence and sorrow.

Jonathan Kent looked like a man in his thirties. He had undergone genetic modification and was actually over forty, but now appeared no older than thirty. He hadn't changed much from how he looked two years ago.

At the moment, he was sitting on a gray military blanket, his back against the cold metal wall, palms open, gazing at the photo inside his pocket watch with deep, painful thoughts. It was a colored wedding photo of him and his wife, Martha.

Almost every day, he longed for her, missed her, and relived his grief as he stared at her photo.

If they hadn't taken in that baby back then, none of this separation would've happened.

In his heart, he hated that white dog—a beast that would sacrifice his wife just to ensure his son's escape.

It was that creature's refusal to halt no matter what that led to Martha being swallowed by the superluminal vortex.

They had been kind. They had taken him in. So why could he do such a thing and let Martha die?

Thinking of this, Jonathan's muscular body curled up tightly. He clutched the pocket watch in his hands, tears silently falling from the corners of his eyes.

Soon after...

Click—

The sound of the door opening echoed.

It was Jonathan's roommate, Ensign Shanks.

In an instant, the tears at the corners of Jonathan's eyes evaporated like smoke. His face went cold, his gaze steeled, and all emotion was tucked away.

He straightened up, got out of bed, and began putting on his shoes and uniform, preparing to lead a patrol.

"Ah... Jonathan, heading out? General Ott is looking for you."

Shanks yawned, his face exhausted. He didn't even lift his eyelids to look at Jonathan. After speaking, he flopped directly onto his bed and began to snore.

Leading a patrol wasn't exhausting. What wore him down was the virtual combat training with recruits afterward, which drained his energy and left him utterly fatigued.

Jonathan had wanted to ask what General Ott wanted from him, but seeing that Shanks was already snoring, he didn't wake him.

He left the quarters.

First, he stopped by the camp room to adjust the patrol schedule and update the virtual training times for the recruits. Once done, he proceeded to the main battle command room.

"Press harder! What, haven't you eaten?"

On the way, a sergeant was leading some recruits, pinning an alien to the ground and rubbing his face across the lunar surface.

That very spot was where one of Mongul's guards had spit.

After Bardi eliminated Mongul, General Ott personally pulled out that arrogant guard, pinned him down, and forced him to lick up all the phlegm. Then he was dragged across the moon's surface.

But that wasn't the end.

For the crime of contempt toward His Majesty, the sentence was approved by General Ott and Bardi. The guard was to be punished for thirty years. Every day, a designated squad would pin his face down and scrub it across the entire lunar surface.

Jonathan and several other officers passing by nodded, glancing briefly at the alien still being ground into the moon. A flicker of discomfort crossed their hearts, but they said nothing and continued toward the main command room.

"Jonathan, hand over your duties and return to Earth. His Majesty has summoned you."

"Huh?"

Jonathan was stunned. His heart leapt. He turned to ask General Ott, panic and confusion stirring inside, but Ott didn't know the details either. He only knew that Jonathan had been ordered to return to Earth.

Jonathan stepped into the teleporter with unease, anxiety, dread, and panic swirling within him.

He thought about it every second—

Was it because he was too average, too incapable, and unworthy of having his wife brought back?

Even though he had already given everything he had, become a soldier, and fought under Bardi's banner in the legion...

He was still ordinary. He had no special skills, no great intelligence or abilities. Even the rank of second lieutenant had been earned only by seniority.

He had done nothing significant for Bardi and had no merit to speak of.

For a moment, Jonathan was overwhelmed with panic and sorrow.

When he was finally brought before Bardi, his expression was one of utter grief.

He truly didn't want to hear Bardi say that he was too mediocre to be worthy of resurrecting his wife.

"Your Majesty…"

Jonathan lowered his head and knelt, his body trembling with fear and anxiety.

Bardi's expression was calm as he looked at the kneeling Jonathan. A trace of warmth flickered in his eyes.

"Jonathan, you've served me for twelve years."

"But your abilities are mediocre, with no special skills. You're just another soldier among the vast masses. Both your superiors and my monitoring confirm your mediocrity."

"I command hundreds of millions like you."

Jonathan's body trembled even more. The ordinary second lieutenant could barely hold back tears as he kowtowed deeply before Bardi.

"Your Majesty, I'm willing to do anything, anything! Please don't give up on me. Don't give up on the resurrection of my wife."

His tears fell like beans, splashing on the ground, reflecting his heartbroken and pained face.

"You're overthinking it. I don't care about your mediocrity."

"I've seen your efforts, the faith you've placed in me, and the fact that you never gave up hope."

"I've seen your mediocrity, your hard work under my command, your sweat, your broken limbs, your bloodshed."

"You've given me twelve years of loyalty and dedication. You've placed your faith in me and held on desperately to hope."

"So..."

"Your wife is waiting for you at Metropolis Central Hospital, State Ward 35."

Jonathan froze. He looked up, eyes wide, staring at Bardi's majestic face—his dark gold cloak, his imperial armor, radiating power and awe.

At that moment, Bardi smiled. In Jonathan's eyes, he looked like a divine figure reborn. His blood surged with wild emotion.

"Don't worry, this is real. Your wife—not a clone or genetic imitation."

"Your hope has come true."

(To be continued.)