"Krypton…!"
"It's those Kryptonian Supermen again!"
Panic spread like wildfire across the Kree communication network. In recent days, the Kree Empire had already suffered repeated blows from Kryptonian forces, but today was different. This wasn't a skirmish or an isolated clash—this was a direct invasion of Garonne, one of their long-held strongholds.
And it was happening right in the heart of their territory.
High above the planet's surface, sword-shaped fighter jets sliced through the sky in tight formation. Nearly a hundred ships surged forward, their engines roaring as they rushed toward what had once been the central command zone.
Inside the cockpits, silence fell.
Through reinforced windows, the pilots stared down at the land below, their expressions stiffening as the full scale of destruction came into view. What had once been a bustling, heavily fortified command hub was now unrecognizable, replaced by a massive, crater-like void.
There were no ruins. No wreckage. No signs of structures.
Just a vast, bottomless pit that looked as if the planet itself had been carved open.
"…What the hell did that?" someone muttered under their breath, unable to hide the tremor in their voice.
"The life-tracking system is picking something up," another pilot reported.
The words instantly pulled everyone back to attention. Sensors locked onto a single life signal within the devastation, and the readings came back overwhelming. It wasn't fading. It wasn't weakening. If anything, the energy signature was growing stronger.
That meant only one thing.
The being responsible for all of this… was still alive.
A collective breath hissed through the fleet as realization set in. They weren't chasing an aftermath—they were flying straight toward the source of it.
"Alright, everyone stay focused," the squadron leader ordered, forcing calm into his tone. "The target has long-range attack capability. Once we deploy, we immediately climb and break formation. Use irregular flight patterns to avoid heat vision."
"Understood!"
Experience had taught them well. The Kree had paid dearly to learn how Kryptonians fought, and they weren't about to repeat past mistakes without adapting.
"Prepare for bombardment."
"Release payload."
At the command, the fleet unleashed its full arsenal.
Energy-condensed missiles dropped in waves, each one guided by advanced tracking systems that locked onto the lone life signature below. They fell fast—too fast for the naked eye to properly follow—cutting through the air like streaks of light.
Within seconds, the bombardment began.
Explosions erupted across the surface in rapid succession, each detonation feeding into the next. Massive mushroom clouds rose one after another, stacking into a towering wall of fire and smoke. The ground trembled violently, the impact shaking the surrounding region as if the planet itself were recoiling.
From above, it looked like total annihilation.
"Direct hit?" one pilot asked, gripping the controls tightly.
"It should be," another replied, though uncertainty lingered. "There's no way anything survives that level of saturation fire."
"Wait… something's wrong."
A sharp interruption cut through the comms.
"The life signal is still there! Not just that—it's stronger than before! Everyone pull up! Get altitude now!"
The command came too late.
Engines roared as nearly a hundred fighter jets attempted to climb, their systems pushing to maximum output. The pilots followed protocol instantly, executing evasive maneuvers and preparing to scatter.
But something wasn't right.
"…Why aren't we gaining altitude?" one pilot said, panic creeping into his voice.
"My engines are at full output! Why aren't we moving?"
The upward momentum stopped.
Then reversed.
A terrifying force dragged the entire fleet downward.
"No—NO!"
On the ground, Locke stood calmly in the center of the devastation, his black Kryptonian suit unscathed. He raised one hand toward the sky, his expression indifferent as his fingers slowly curled.
Then he pulled.
That single motion changed everything.
Gravity itself bent to his will.
Through the power of the Power Stone, the invisible force that governed the battlefield became nothing more than a thread in his grasp. With a simple tug, he yanked the entire fleet out of the sky.
Fighter jets that had moments ago dominated the air were now helpless, dragged downward as if the planet itself had reached up to claim them.
Boom—!
The first wave hit the ground.
Then the rest followed.
Explosions erupted across the surface as nearly a hundred ships slammed into the earth, detonating on impact. Fire consumed twisted metal, and shockwaves rippled outward, overlapping with one another in a chaotic cascade of destruction.
The sky fell silent.
"Pathetic," Locke said flatly.
Their bombardment hadn't even scratched him. The black suit he wore—etched with the imperial crest—remained pristine, untouched by the storm of energy that had just engulfed him.
His gaze shifted, already moving on.
"Time to collect everything this place has to offer."
He stepped forward.
Space folded.
In the blink of an eye, he crossed hundreds of kilometers, disappearing from the crater and reappearing inside the No. 1 Leo Interstellar Base. The transition was seamless, instantaneous—an effortless application of the Space Stone's power.
Inside the base, chaos reigned.
Derek and Spencer were already deep into combat, their figures moving like blurs as they tore through Kree soldiers. Heat vision flashed repeatedly, carving through defensive lines and turning fortified positions into burning wreckage.
Still, the resistance was intense.
The Kree homeworld conditions gave their soldiers enhanced physical capabilities, and their numbers were overwhelming. Even against Kryptonians, sheer volume began to slow the pace of the assault.
Derek's patience snapped first.
His eyes ignited, releasing twin beams of searing energy that cut through an entire formation, breaking the defensive line in one sweep. Spencer followed immediately, launching into the air before unleashing his own heat vision, piercing through multiple layers of resistance.
"Good," a voice echoed across the battlefield.
Both Kryptonians froze for a fraction of a second before turning sharply.
"Your Majesty."
They lowered their heads respectfully, their tone carrying absolute reverence.
The stronger they became, the more they understood just how far beyond them Locke truly was. What he had done earlier—the impact that wiped out an entire command center—wasn't just power. It was something closer to inevitability.
Footsteps thundered in the distance.
More Kree reinforcements poured into the base, supported by transport ships overhead that continuously deployed additional troops. The numbers kept rising, flooding the battlefield in waves.
"Damn Kree," Derek muttered, frustration creeping into his voice.
Locke, however, simply smiled.
He raised his hand, and a radiant blue gem appeared in his palm.
The Space Stone.
"Move," he said calmly. "Open the gate."
The gem pulsed.
Without any external device or stabilizer, a massive пространственный gateway tore open in midair, its edges shimmering with controlled energy. Unlike anything the Kree had ever seen, the portal stabilized instantly under Locke's command.
And beyond it—
An army waited.
Heavy footsteps echoed as figures began to emerge, one after another. Rows of Kryptonian soldiers marched through the portal, their presence overwhelming as they poured into the base in organized waves.
The Kree soldiers froze.
"This… this can't be real," one of them whispered.
"Wasn't Krypton destroyed? How are there this many of them?"
"It's over…"
Shock gave way to despair as the scale of the invasion became clear. This wasn't just a strike force—it was an army, fully mobilized and ready to conquer.
Locke watched the scene unfold, a satisfied smile forming on his lips.
The incubation pools had done their job. The Kryptonian population had grown, and now that growth was being converted into raw military power.
His empire was no longer an idea.
It was here.
"Kill every Kree," Locke ordered calmly. "Take their weapons, their ships—everything."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
....
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