There was chaos inside the Legislative Chamber.
Sapphire Guards were moving one after another, and quite a number of them were stationed near the entrance to the hall where the Kryptonian Council was present.
The Council of Five was still inside the hall, being protected by the Sapphire Guards. The guards stood with energy lances and energy blasters—the standard weapons of the Kryptonian military.
Their blue armor gleamed under the chamber's lights, each piece bearing the insignia of their loyalty to the Council.
At that moment, screams echoed from the end of the corridor. The guards' grips on their weapons tightened as the sounds of battle grew closer. Explosions shook the building, and the acrid smell of burned metal and flesh began to fill the air.
The Head Guard, a veteran warrior named Tor-An who had served the Council for thirty years, tried to rally his men. His voice boomed over the chaos as he addressed the forty guards under his command.
"Listen to me!" he shouted, his energy lance crackling with power. "We are the last line of defense that protects the leaders of Krypton! The reinforcements will soon be here—we just have to hold on until then!"
The guards straightened, drawing strength from their commander's words. Many of them were young, barely served for a decade, but they had sworn an oath to protect the Council with their lives.
"We have trained for this moment our entire careers," Tor-An continued, his weathered face grim with determination. "These traitors think they can storm our halls and threaten the rightful government of Krypton. They are wrong!"
His voice grew louder, more passionate.
"We will fight these rebels! We will not fall! We will protect our leaders! We will win this battle and restore order to—"
The sentence never finished. A plasma bolt struck Tor-An directly in the head, and his skull exploded in a shower of blood and brain matter that splattered across the marble floor. His body crumpled like a broken doll, the energy lance clattering from his lifeless fingers.
From the other end of the hall, dozens of soldiers from the Sword of Rao emerged with Zod leading them. The General held a smoking plasma blaster in his hands—he had been the one to kill Tor-An with a single, precise shot. Behind him, his warriors moved with the disciplined efficiency of seasoned combat veterans.
The Sword of Rao soldiers immediately opened fire on the Sapphire Guards, targeting those with energy blasters first. The tactical advantage was overwhelming—Zod's forces outnumbered the defenders nearly two to one, and they had the element of surprise, thanks to the speech the head guard was giving.
Energy bolts filled the air as the Sapphire Guards scrambled to return fire. Several guards fell in the first volley, their blue armor cracked and smoking. The younger guards panicked, firing wildly and missing their targets. The veterans tried to maintain formation, but they were being cut down one by one.
"Traitors, huh?" Zod said with a cold smirk on his face, watching as his enemies fell around him.
Within seconds, most of the Sapphire Guards had been eliminated. Only a handful remained alive, clutching their energy lances with desperate determination. These were the veterans, the ones who had survived previous battles through skill and experience rather than luck.
Zod raised his hand, signaling his soldiers to stop firing. The sudden silence was deafening after the chaos of battle. Smoke drifted through the air, carrying the smell of death and destruction.
"Stand down," Zod commanded his troops. "These are mine to slay."
He took an energy lance from one of his soldiers and activated it. The weapon hummed to life, its blue energy blade crackling with power. Zod stepped forward calmly, his movements measured and controlled.
The remaining Sapphire Guards—five in total—formed a line between Zod and the Council chambers. They knew they were going to die, but they would not abandon their posts. Their training and loyalty ran too deep for that.
The first guard charged at Zod with his lance raised, aiming directly for the General's head. It was a desperate attack, born more of courage than strategy. Zod moved his neck slightly to the side, allowing the energy blade to pass harmlessly by his ear. In the same motion, he brought his own lance across in a horizontal slash that severed the guard's head from his shoulders.
The second guard attacked immediately, bringing his lance down in a powerful overhead strike. Zod stepped to the left and drove his weapon straight into the man's heart. The guard's eyes went wide with shock before the life faded from them.
The third and fourth guards tried to coordinate their attack, coming at Zod from different angles simultaneously. It was a sound tactic that might have worked against a lesser opponent. But Zod had been fighting battles since before these men were born.
He spun between them like a dancer, his lance weaving deadly patterns through the air. The first guard fell with a thrust through his throat. The second stumbled backward, clutching at the gaping wound in his chest, before collapsing to the floor.
The last guard knew he had no chance, but he fought anyway. He leaped into the air, trying to attack from above where Zod might not expect it. It was a move born of desperation rather than skill.
Zod simply raised his lance and caught the falling guard on its point. The energy blade pierced through the man's torso, and Zod lifted him high into the air like a gruesome trophy. Blood dripped from the wound onto the marble floor below.
As the guard died, Zod noticed movement from the corner of his eye. The last surviving Sapphire Guard—one who had been wounded in the initial exchange of fire—was crawling toward a fallen energy blaster. His blue armor was cracked and bloodied, but he refused to give up.
Zod hurled his lance like a javelin. The weapon flew through the air with deadly accuracy, striking the crawling guard and pinning him to the wall. The body of the guard Zod had impaled was still attached to the lance's other end, creating a macabre display of Zod's martial prowess.
"If we who are willing to die for Krypton are traitors," Zod muttered, looking down at the carnage around him, "then what are the ones who orchestrated it all?"
He turned his gaze toward the sealed doors of the Legislative Council chamber. Now there was no one standing between him and the five politicians who had condemned their entire species to death.
But first, he had other priorities to address.
"Commander Faura," Zod called out, his voice carrying the authority of absolute command.
A woman in her thirties stepped forward. Commander Faura had served under Zod for fifteen years, and her loyalty to him was absolute. She was one of the finest tactical minds in the Sword of Rao, known for her ability to accomplish seemingly impossible missions.
"Yes, General," she replied, snapping to attention.
"You are to lead a squadron and secure as many birth chambers as you can. Transport them immediately to Lord Rao's vessel. The future of our species depends on preserving our ability to rebuild our population."
"Understood, General," Faura nodded grimly. The birth chambers were the artificial wombs that had been used for centuries to regulate Kryptonian reproduction. Without them, the fifteen thousand survivors would be limited to natural reproduction—a far slower process.
Zod turned to another officer. "Commander Non."
Non was older than Faura, a grizzled veteran who had fought in more battles than he cared to count. His scarred face bore testament to decades of warfare, but his eyes still burned with the fire of a true believer. He had been Zod's right hand for nearly two decades.
"You are to secure the Codex and bring it to Lord Rao," Zod commanded. "Without it, the birth chambers will be useless. With it, they can rebuild our entire civilization."
"It will be done, General," Non replied with absolute certainty.
Zod looked at both commanders, his expression grave. These were men and women who had followed him through countless battles, who had bled alongside him in defense of Krypton. Now he was asking them to abandon him in his final hour.
"I hereby put you and your respective squadrons under the direct command of Lord Rao," he declared formally. "Be the tools he needs to establish the foundation for the new Krypton. Serve him as you have served me."
Their eyes widened slightly as they had thought they would complete their mission and simply return to support Zod.
But Zod was not just giving them orders—he was transferring his authority, ensuring that the mission would continue even after his death.
Faura and Non both raised their hands to their chests in the traditional military salute. Their voices rang out in unison: "Yes, General!"
These commanders had served under Zod's direct command. There had not been a single time when he had made a decision that would harm Krypton or its people. They trusted him with their lives, and more importantly, with their honor.
Before they had come to attack the Legislative Chamber, they had been ready to die. They had prepared themselves to fall by the side of the general who had led them through countless battles, especially against the Dheronians. It would have been a glorious death, dying beside the greatest military commander in Kryptonian history.
Yet Zod had taken that from them. He had forsaken them to live, to carry on without him. It was perhaps the cruelest order he had ever given them, but also the most necessary.
But this was the last command from their General. If nothing else, they would fulfill it to their last breath. Their loyalty to him demanded nothing less.
Zod nodded at them solemnly. "May we meet again under the light of Rao in whatever realm awaits us. Now go!"
Both commanders thumped their chests one final time, the sound echoing through the blood-soaked chamber. "It was an honor to serve with you, General," they said in unison before turning to leave for their respective missions.
Zod allowed himself a small smile as he watched them go. These were good soldiers, honorable Kryptonians who would ensure that their mission succeeded even if they failed. Lord Rao would have capable lieutenants in the dark days ahead.
But the smile faded as he turned his attention back to the Legislative Council chamber. Now it was just him and two dozen of his most trusted troops. The men who had volunteered to stay behind, knowing they would not survive the day.
"Ready?" he asked them.
"Ready, General," they replied as one.
Zod strode toward the sealed doors, his boots splashing through pools of blood. Behind him, his soldiers followed in perfect formation. They were about to confront the architects of Krypton's destruction, and none of them expected to see another dawn.
But they would make their deaths count. The Council would pay for their crimes, and the universe would know that Krypton had not gone quietly into the darkness.
.....
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