"Master, the Kryptonian spacecraft has entered the solar system!"
Hera's voice echoed in his ears.
The sunlight slanted down into the hanging garden, bringing warmth, the fresh scent of flowers, fluttering butterflies, and the buzzing of bees.
Bardi nodded slightly. He sat on a rattan lounge chair, his expression calm. Thin-rimmed glasses rested on his nose. His face, chiseled like a blade, was silent. The scars on his cheeks seemed to converge, giving him a scholarly air.
He read quietly, immersed like a human scholar.
Holding a book written by a renowned human author, he gently flipped through its pages—a book that had taken ten years to write, revealing profound insights into human nature.
"History tells mankind that mankind does not accept the lessons of history."
Hearing Hera's voice, Bardi remained unmoved. He turned another page, savoring the words, basking in the sun as he reflected on human nature.
In just thirty-two seconds, he had absorbed the book.
Snap.
Bardi closed the book with one hand.
The sunlight caressed his face, and his crystalline skin glowed faintly. Bardi removed his glasses, a symbol of his human persona, and placed them on the table alongside the book.
Without the glasses, he leaned back lightly in the rattan chair. His casual posture was like a sleeping dragon awakening beneath the mountains, stirring the forests, rising with its spine arched to the heavens—majestic and dominating, feet planted on the sky.
His long-standing aura erupted like a hurricane, sweeping through the flowers and trees, bending the surrounding potted plants. Even the sunlight and space around him seemed to distort and ripple under his immense pressure.
The magnetic field of his body, his powerful soul, and spiritual energy coalesced into a tangible force.
On Earth, aside from a few individuals, most could not even stand beside him when he released his full presence.
"How do humans play games?"
Bardi asked calmly, raising his head slightly, his gaze deep as he looked toward the starry sky.
It was as if he could already see the Kryptonian spacecraft crossing the solar system, heading toward his empire.
"The game adjustment time is 1:20. Humans spend an average of one year in the game. A total of 700,000 elite players have been endowed with superpower genes."
Hera's voice directly echoed in Bardi's mind, connected through the proton-based artificial intelligence in his body.
"Good."
Bardi gave a nod of approval, withdrew his gaze from the stars, leaned back in the rattan chair, rested his right elbow on the armrest, and pressed his hand to his cheek.
His eyes drifted into thoughtful reminiscence.
Thinking back, seeing that person again—it stirred waves in his heart.
On Krypton, at the military academy, Faora had risen through her own efforts. Day and night, she had trained tirelessly, always sparring with Bardi.
Through those long hours of training and learning, Faora gradually shifted from being a mentor to an equal, an admirer, and ultimately, his woman.
Love and hatred became intertwined.
Bardi gently traced the knife scars on his cheek with his fingers. Under the sunlight, the scars appeared ice-cold and razor-sharp.
"Master, using the Kryptonian reconnaissance craft left by Jor-El, it is possible to contact Faora within the solar system through long-range temporal communication."
Hera said with warmth, sensing Bardi's memories through a camera feed, noting the pensive expression on his face and the emotion in his eyes.
Such communication would be difficult with current Earth technology, but thanks to the recently acquired Brainiac Sentinel hardware and the Kryptonian spacecraft system left by Jor-El, it was possible to establish a connection using recorded frequencies.
"Unnecessary."
Bardi lightly shook his head.
The entanglement between him and Faora was difficult to explain. Love and hate tangled together, a clash of class and personal beliefs.
After Krypton spent its final vitality and exploded, it was hard to say whether it was Bardi's revolution that exhausted the planet, the stagnant upper class, or both—equally blind, equally responsible for Krypton's destruction.
"I look forward to seeing her face."
Bardi stood up, dusted off his shirt, picked up the book and glasses, and walked away from the sky garden.
In the garden, butterflies still danced, and bees continued to buzz.
…
Inside the Kryptonian spacecraft, in the main control room of the flagship, over twenty Kryptonian soldiers moved efficiently, managing various parts of the ship under emergency protocols.
This was the combat control center. Upon arrival at their destination, they were ready to either defend or launch a preemptive strike.
"Adjutant, there's a communication request from a Kryptonian reconnaissance vessel. Its trajectory leads directly to our target location."
A capable Kryptonian female warrior reported.
At the back, Faora watched the live virtual projection of the vast sun and the approaching Earth. Upon hearing her subordinate's report about a communication signal from Earth, a flicker of emotion crossed her cold eyes. Then she replied coldly.
"Connect it."
An electronically synthesized voice rang out.
"It's me, Faora."
Her voice was icy, though a tremor in her heart surfaced before it was quickly buried by anger. She spoke coldly, "Hera, are you declaring war on your master's behalf?"
"No. My program is active, and I believe I should speak for master at this moment. So, I am here."
Hera's synthetic voice was emotionless, mixed with static.
"Faora, Krypton has been destroyed. Everything is in the past.
Right now, you should become master's most effective assistant. Support him, and honor master's thoughts of you.
Abandon your foolish ideologies and rigid beliefs. Step into a better era alongside the master. Nurture the next generation, fulfill all his desires, and live happily together.
Don't engage in meaningless conflict."
Hera's cold logic aimed to persuade Faora with brutal honesty.
Faora's face turned grim, her gaze turning frigid.
Hera did not understand emotion, nor honor. Even though there were many Hera models with programmed emotions, she would never grasp the feelings of living beings.
For Faora, the honor of a warrior and the emotional torment surrounding Bardi—family loss, national tragedy, emotional devastation from Krypton's fall, and her love for Bardi—were things Hera could never comprehend.
"Hera, I have nothing to say to you. You're not a living being. You don't understand emotion."
"The battle between Bardi and me is inevitable."
Faora said coldly.
Hera was silent for a moment, then responded with a crackle of static.
"You will die, and the master will kill you, heartbroken."
A flash of pain crossed Faora's eyes before hardening into cold resolve.
"Go back and tell Barmulodi, if I kill him, I'll kill myself and bury us in the same coffin."
"If he kills me, then let him toss my body into space. Let the universe bury me forever."
With that, Faora cut off the communication.
The control room fell into complete silence.
The spacecraft, now in the solar system, had entered combat mode. It flew silently through the icy void of space.
(To be continued.)
***
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