DC: Rise of the Kryptonian Tyrant

Hell.

In this burning land of torment dwell Neron, Belial, Trigon, Azazel, Abnegazar, Wrath, Ghast, and demons eager to rise within the Legion of Evil. Etrigan resides here too, alongside all manner of tormented spirits, fallen angels, and creatures that loathe humanity.

Truthfully, all the names above had already been defeated by Bardi. Some had even been beaten nearly to death. Now, they could only recover in bitterness, harboring hatred and dreams of future revenge.

Bardi had once descended deep into Hell, fighting countless devils, demons, and evildoers.

Now—

Bardi was sealed by Lucifer, the Lord of Hell, at Hell's core, the very heart of its burning abyss. There, using the full power of Hell, Lucifer created an infinitely splitting universe to suppress him.

The universe at Hell's center.

Bardi stood, tall and motionless, his divine body unyielding in the darkness. His eyes contained a cold fury. New universes endlessly formed around him, binding his divine body like galaxies coiling through the cosmos. Yet each new universe was gradually adapted to his power.

The infinite universe was meant to restrain him. Its speed of splitting still exceeded his rate of adaptation and destruction. For now, it worked.

"The speed of the universe's split will eventually be caught up by him."

Fate of the Endless held the Book of Destiny. Beneath the hood, the empty face spoke solemnly.

"We cannot contain him for much longer."

Nearby, other members of the Endless family looked on with concern at the central universe sealing Bardi.

Even using the full power of Hell, with the Endless' vast knowledge of evolution and time, it wouldn't hold him for long.

The adaptability of the Origin, the power of evolution—was too immense.

Once Bardi's power surpassed the speed of universe fragmentation, he would break free… and destroy all of Hell.

Lucifer's pale face was drawn and grim. Things had spiraled far beyond his calculations. Control was slipping.

He stared into the heart of Hell at Bardi's bound form and shook his head wearily. His hoarse voice rasped as he spoke to the splitting universe:

"Barmulodi, stop struggling. I can resurrect your family."

His voice echoed through every fragment of the universe at Hell's core, reaching Bardi's furious mind.

Red veins bulged across Bardi's divine body in anger. Bone spurs protruded grotesquely. His eyes were pitch-black. Rage clouded everything.

"Really? My family, poisoned by the divine wave, infected the moment they breathed it—how can they be resurrected?"

Bardi's thoughts surged between fury and icy calm.

From the moment he entered the Divine Realm, everything—his family included—was tainted by the divine wave.

It was like oxygen on Earth: poisonous, yet essential for survival in the Divine Realm.

And that "oxygen" only flowed from Heaven. Heaven controlled it.

How could such a thing be reversed?

Lucifer fell silent.

He knew the truth. He had always known.

But he couldn't say more. The bitter truth was too foul for even him.

Still, he offered:

"I promise…"

"I don't believe you."

Bardi's voice was cold and filled with terrifying rage.

"Lucifer, I will be your end. Hell will be destroyed. Heaven will fall."

His fury distorted the air. Weaker beings who heard his voice were twisted, their bodies mutated into monstrous forms under its sheer force.

Lucifer's face paled further. Complicated emotions danced in his eyes.

His withered divine body floated weakly, like a ghost ravaged by disease, coughing and swaying amid Hell's flames—sometimes confused, sometimes bitterly pleased.

At least... for now... they still had time.

"Lucifer, release the Origin!"

Lucifer had barely begun to feel relief when Morpheus, the King of Dreams, descended—bringing with him gods of dreams, nightmares, and several from Heaven, all come to save the Origin.

Hell's already ominous skies darkened further. Thick black clouds of nightmare smoke loomed overhead. Divine figures from across the cosmos filled the skies of Hell.

Gravity itself bent. Hell cracked. Magma surged. Thunder rolled. Black clouds howled. It was the end of days.

Demons and devils screamed, driven mad by the overwhelming divine presence.

Lucifer's heart pounded.

He had anticipated support for Bardi… but not that it would be Morpheus—the god of dreams and nightmares.

"Fine. But I need time," Lucifer said. His voice was darker than ever.

If Morpheus intervened now, Bardi would be free in an instant.

That would spell disaster for the entire Divine Realm.

Lucifer knew Morpheus understood this. So, he offered a compromise.

He could release Bardi. He would. But it would take time—enough to satisfy everyone's mutual interests.

If the political performance was convincing, if appearances were preserved, then all sides could walk away with both honor and benefits.

Morpheus, towering above Hell in black cloud and shadow, responded heavily:

"Agreed."

Lucifer exhaled in relief.

Morpheus had come to save the Origin, yes—but not fully. Not yet.

Rescuing Bardi now would mean Bardi alone received the credit.

Waiting meant everyone who participated would share in the glory.

Shared benefits are always preferable to selfish ones.

Everyone understood. They all knew what Origin was. What he could become.

"Right now."

A cold, overpowering voice echoed from the universe at Hell's core. It was Bardi.

He could not tolerate the polite lies and selfish calculations.

He wanted to kill Lucifer, destroy Heaven, seize the divine wave, and resurrect his family—now.

How could he accept waiting?

"I swear it.

Whoever saves me now, I will protect through all generations. I will be with you."

"And those who deceive me, who delay and manipulate… the moment I am free, no matter if the sky falls, the universe collapses, or time ends… they will be the first I destroy."

Bardi's oath thundered across Hell.

A chain of divine law, formed from his own power, spiraled from within. It bound him with invisible oaths that then vanished into his divine form.

This vow overrode even his vengeance against Heaven.

If he broke it, if he showed even a moment of mercy, the pain of his own divine punishment would be endless.

At that moment—

Hell stood still.

The decision now rested with Morpheus and the gods of Heaven.

Lucifer, pale beyond words, was drenched in sweat. His gaze was trembling. His heart was paralyzed with fear.

(To be continued.)