General Zod was a warrior feared across galaxies, so powerful that he could even suppress Superman — a man who had absorbed the Sun's energy for over thirty years.
Kara, in comparison, had only recently begun to truly draw power from Earth's yellow Sun. Two-thirds of her life had been spent beneath the red sunlight of Krypton's prison worlds, her body starved of strength. She had the will, but not the years of growth Clark had earned. Against Zod, she was outmatched from the very start.
Still, she fought.
At first, her surprise attack had given her an advantage. She moved faster than light, a streak of silver and blue slashing through space. Each punch, each kick, tore through the void like a comet's flare. Her body blurred forward, striking and vanishing before Zod could counter. Every movement was sharp, precise, filled with fury — as if she herself were a blade forged in rage.
Years of isolation, weakness, and anger had shaped her into something unyielding. The moment sunlight touched her again, that rage ignited into raw power.
But even the sharpest weapon couldn't pierce an unbreakable shield.
Zod's strength was monstrous. Behind his defense waited a force that could shatter mountains. The moment he adapted to her rhythm, he caught her mid-strike. His counterpunch thundered through the void, slamming into Kara's abdomen. The blow folded her in half, sending her spinning through space, her tattered nightgown whipping like broken wings.
Pain shot through her body. Her consciousness dimmed.
Zod didn't hesitate. He shot forward, the blades on his armored gauntlet extending with a mechanical hiss. The Kryptonian fleet's instruments had already analyzed Kara's body — the Life Codex, Krypton's genetic legacy, was hidden within her cells. Extracting it would destroy her from the inside out. But to Zod, her death would be a noble sacrifice for Krypton's rebirth.
There was no mercy in his eyes. Only purpose.
As he closed in for the killing blow, Kara floated unconscious, drifting like a lost meteor. Zod's blade glinted, drawing closer to her pale skin.
Then, suddenly — a hand appeared.
It emerged from the void, catching the blade between its fingers. Metal screeched. The supposedly indestructible Kryptonian alloy bent like a twig, snapping with a sharp, echoing crack.
Zod froze.
A man stood before him, wearing armor reminiscent of Kryptonian battle gear, yet darker — sleeker — infused with an energy that didn't belong to Krypton. He held Kara gently with one arm, supporting her as if she weighed nothing.
The sight of him sent a chill down Zod's spine.
The general had faced death countless times in war, but this man radiated something colder than the void — killing intent pure enough to silence a heartbeat.
Still, Zod refused to retreat. He clenched his fists and charged, unwilling to yield the last hope of Krypton to anyone.
But something was wrong. As he moved, Zod noticed the silence — his fleet was gone. His soldiers, his adjutant Faora — nowhere. Only distant stars surrounded them.
Before he could react, the stranger caught his fist mid-swing. The grip was casual, almost effortless. Bones cracked. Zod's armored wrist folded inwards with a sickening crunch as the man's hand tightened.
Before Zod could even cry out, the stranger struck him once — a single, brutal punch to the temple.
Zod's world went dark.
---
When Kara opened her eyes, she was bathed in sunlight. A massive golden star filled her vision, its radiance enveloping her body in warmth.
"You're awake?" a voice said gently beside her. "You were out for a while. Guess your body couldn't handle that kind of strain — weak for years, then suddenly fighting Zod, then taking a direct hit. Even this close to the Sun, it'll take time for you to recover."
She turned her head and saw Malrick floating beside her, his calm gaze scanning her for injuries. She realized, with a faint blush, that he was using his X-ray vision.
Kara quickly crossed her arms over her chest — a pointless gesture, but instinctive nonetheless.
Malrick immediately looked away, his expression unreadable. On his other side floated Zod, silent and still, his armor cracked and his right hand exposed.
It didn't take long for Kara to realize the truth. Malrick had saved her again.
"You saved me," she said. "Thank you."
Her voice carried through the vacuum — Kryptonian physiology made speech in space possible, though faint and almost telepathic.
Malrick shook his head and pushed Zod's unconscious body toward her. The general's injuries were already healing under the sunlight. His face, though unbroken, looked… tired. Older.
"Zod," Kara muttered, her eyes narrowing.
The general stirred, then slowly lifted his head. He knew — his fate was in her hands now.
"Kara," he said, his tone firm but not defiant. "Everything I did was for Krypton. I regret Kal-El's death… but I do not regret the cause. You hold the Life Codex. You are Krypton's last hope. You must rebuild our world. That is your duty."
Kara's lips tightened. She didn't answer.
Zod's words were not lies. He had killed her cousin — yet his conviction for Krypton's survival was undeniable. A part of her understood it. Another part despised it.
She was torn between grief and reason.
Zod studied her face — so calm, yet so young. He could see the conflict in her eyes. For all her strength, she was still new to this world of gray between right and wrong.
A faint smile curved his lips. "You must rebuild Krypton," he repeated quietly.
Then, suddenly, he moved.
The blade on his left arm extended again, a flash of silver cutting through sunlight. Malrick instantly reacted, his eyes narrowing, ready to strike — but he stopped when he realized Zod's motion wasn't aimed at Kara.
Instead, Zod turned the blade inward.
The sound was sharp and final.
His armor cracked, blood scattering into the light of the Sun. A final breath escaped his lips as he looked toward Kara one last time.
"For Krypton," he whispered.
And then, General Zod was gone.
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