DC: Rise Of The Kryptonian Tyrant

Underground base, at the elevator.

The atmosphere froze as Slade stepped out of the elevator, his imposing figure blocking the path of Bardi's wheelchair.

"Where are you… going?" Slade asked coldly, his sharp gaze sweeping over Jenny's striking appearance before settling briefly on Bardi.

It wasn't a glare, nor was it a prolonged stare. It was the kind of dismissive glance one gives to something beneath notice, a mere formality to assess the subject of one's disdain.

Slade's eyes lowered, glancing down at Bardi in the wheelchair.

Paralyzed and immobile, Bardi was, by all accounts, harmless. And yet, Slade's intuition told him otherwise.

A spark of anger ignited within Bardi, rising to his throat before he suppressed it once more.

If not for the unfortunate circumstances of the spacecraft's explosion that had left him stranded and captured, no one would dare look at him like this. The sheer lack of respect from these people gnawed at him, particularly Slade.

Despite everything Bardi had contributed to the underground base, Slade's attitude remained unchanged. He saw Bardi only as a prisoner—a paralyzed, powerless prisoner and nothing more.

Slade's unyielding suspicion and obstructiveness infuriated Bardi. Without Slade, he would have been basking in the sun long ago.

But Bardi forced himself to remain composed. He could not afford to reveal even the faintest trace of his anger not in his blood pressure, his pulse, or even his microexpressions.

Jenny's cheerful face turned cold, her joy replaced with irritation. She stepped out from behind the wheelchair, her voice sharp and biting.

"Slade, I'm taking him to the surface for some sunlight. Do you have a problem with that?"

Her tone was as frosty as her expression. She had long despised Slade's treatment of Bardi, and his discriminatory attitude only fueled her disgust.

Slade, tall and broad-shouldered in his military uniform, stood like a stone pillar at the elevator entrance. His voice was firm and unyielding.

"As the security director of this base, I have the authority to restrict his movements," Slade said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "He is an alien, and he could still pose a danger. I cannot allow him to leave the fourth sublevel."

Jenny's body trembled with anger, her fingers curling into fists. Her knuckles whitened as she fought the urge to lash out physically. For a moment, it looked as though she might rip off her high heel and drive its pointed tip into Slade's face.

But before she could escalate the confrontation, Bardi intervened.

"Jenny," he said gently, his voice calm and reassuring. "Go check on the experiment with Bori. I'll speak with Colonel Slade."

Jenny hesitated but eventually relented. She stamped her high heel against the floor in frustration, shot Slade a glare that could pierce steel, and turned sharply on her heel.

"Hmph!" she huffed, storming off toward the lab.

Bardi watched her leave, her frustration evident in every step. He hoped Bori hadn't yet discovered the changes in his cells caused by the infrared light. If Bori realized the implications, his support would crumble, and Jenny's efforts would be for nothing.

As the sound of Jenny's footsteps faded, Bardi shifted his focus to Slade. From his position in the wheelchair, he had to tilt his head slightly to meet the man's gaze, his eyes locking onto Slade's impassive face.

"Colonel Slade," Bardi began, his tone neutral but probing, "may I ask why you're so terrified of me? Why do you remain so cautious, even toward someone as crippled as I am?"

Slade's gaze remained unwavering, but his silence spoke volumes.

"You're dangerous," Slade finally said, his voice low and measured. "My intuition tells me so."

Slade repeated the word "dangerous," as if reinforcing the gravity of his instincts. And though he couldn't fully explain why, he knew that Bardi posed a threat unlike any other.

Bardi let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Am I dangerous now? Look at me, Colonel. I can't even move my limbs. What threat could I possibly pose?"

For a fleeting moment, Slade's expression softened. A trace of hesitation, almost pity, flickered in his eyes before disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

Pity.

It was something Bardi despised more than ridicule.

Sympathy from someone in a position of strength, directed at someone in weakness, was an insult masquerading as kindness. It was a reminder of the power imbalance, a condescending acknowledgment of the recipient's inferiority.

Bardi shook his head, his lips curving into a faint, bitter smile. "Colonel Slade," he said, "do you know why you fear me so much?"

Slade's silence invited him to continue.

"You fear me because of my faith," Bardi said, his voice growing stronger. "Because faith gives me strength. It gives me conviction. And that is something you will never understand, a will so resolute that nothing can break it."

Slade's brow furrowed slightly as Bardi's words settled over him.

"The sun," Bardi continued, his tone filled with passion, "represents life. Hope. Warmth. Light. Vitality. Prosperity. Renewal. A new beginning."

With each word, his voice grew more fervent, each syllable laden with meaning.

Slade's eyes narrowed, his instincts flaring. He had seen this kind of zeal before—in fanatics willing to sacrifice anything for their beliefs. Bardi's conviction radiated the same dangerous intensity.

"You fear me because of my will," Bardi said, his gaze piercing. "Not because of my strength, but because I am unwavering. That terrifies you because it's something you lack."

Slade's expression hardened. His instincts told him Bardi was right. It wasn't physical power that made him uneasy, it was the sheer force of Bardi's resolve.

"And that," Slade said coldly, "is exactly why I can't let you leave the fourth sublevel. You can marry Jenny here. I'll even arrange for a new room as your home."

Bardi's expression remained calm, but his tone carried an edge. "Colonel, I won't let you rob me of this. Let me bask in the sunlight. Let me wash away the past, renew myself, and start a life with Jenny. That is all I ask."

"No!" Slade's voice cut through the air like a blade, his frustration boiling to the surface. "You will stay here!"

For a moment, the two men locked eyes, the tension between them palpable.

Then, Bardi's voice softened. "Slade, do you know what it's like to have seen planets destroyed by star-destroying cannons? To witness alien races in the vastness of space? To stand at the edge of a black hole, staring into eternity?"

Slade's silence betrayed his discomfort.

"I've seen it all," Bardi said, his voice tinged with weariness. "And yet, here I am, falling in love with someone who looks just like me. That, Colonel, is the greatest gift I've been given. Don't take it away from me."

Before Slade could respond, rapid footsteps echoed from the corridor. Jenny and Dean Bori approached, their faces flushed with urgency.

"Slade!" Bori called out, grabbing the colonel's arm. His tone was breathless but excited. "Let them go to the surface. The gene serum—General Vic's project—it worked!"

Slade's eyes widened. "It worked?"

Bori nodded emphatically. "Yes! It's a success. We need to refine it, but it's ready. Let them go. It's just sunlight."

Slade hesitated, glancing at Bardi and then at the old scientist.

Bori tightened his grip. "There's no harm in letting them do this. You have no reason to stop them."

After a moment of tense silence, Slade finally relented. He ordered two soldiers to follow Bardi and Jenny for security and radioed the upper levels to raise their vigilance.

As Slade turned to follow Bori down the corridor, Bardi let out a small breath of relief.

Jenny pushed the wheelchair into the elevator, and as the doors slid shut, Bardi's gaze lingered on Slade's retreating figure until he disappeared from sight.