DC: Rise of the Kryptonian Tyrant

The darker the night, the more it highlights the dazzling beauty of the stars.

The sky was a canvas, where the stars sparkled like jewels against a dark curtain.

The dark blue and white villa stood with a classical charm. Though its furnishings were neatly arranged and elegant, there was an air of formality solemn, even which gave the place a distant, unapproachable aura.

For the villa's owner and its residents, outsiders would never dare to act casually within its walls.

Tonight, only little Lois and Sam were in the villa.

Sam spent some time playing with his daughter and her dolls. Her laughter filled the room as he tickled her, her giggles bubbling up like sunshine. At one point, he picked her up and spun her around, her laughter ringing joyfully through the space.

It was a rare moment of warmth and happiness for him. He hardly ever had the chance to spend time with his daughter, and tonight, every second felt precious.

But as lively as the little girl was, she was still young. After playing for half an hour, her energy gave out. She had spent the day running wild, even in her father's absence, climbing, jumping, crawling everywhere. And now, the exhaustion finally caught up to her. Her small body, soft and tired, slumped against Sam's chest.

He gently patted her back, and before long, she drifted off to sleep.

Sam smiled, gazing fondly at his daughter. He carefully laid her on the bed, her tiny form curling slightly. Even in sleep, her lips smacked faintly as if she were dreaming about food, which made Sam Lane chuckle softly.

Leaning down, he kissed her forehead gently. However, the scratchy stubble on his face seemed to irritate her; her little nose wrinkled, and she turned over with a faint pout.

He adjusted her quilt tenderly, shaking his head with a helpless but adoring smile. In his heart, he couldn't help but marvel at her boundless cuteness.

To him, she was his treasure, so precious that he wished he could cradle her forever.

He quietly pressed down on the door handle, carefully closing the door behind him with a faint click. Satisfied that he hadn't disturbed her, Sam exhaled softly. Straightening his posture, his steps grew firmer, his gait steady and assured.

He picked up a yellow paper file bag from the shoe cabinet near the entrance. Turning it over a few times in his hands, he noticed it had no signature, and its origin was unclear. A flicker of doubt crossed his mind.

Even so, he dismissed the idea of anyone smuggling something dangerous or frivolous into his mailbox. The villa was in a military-protected area, tightly monitored. Any potential threat would have been filtered out long before reaching him.

Holding the mysterious file bag, he headed to the study on the third floor. Passing by his daughter's room, he unconsciously slowed his pace.

Once inside the study, he flicked on the warm lighting. Sitting down at the desk, he set the yellow file bag aside. First, he picked up two reports on the desk, scanning through them with a focused expression.

The reports concerned Stone House, specifically the crater in the giant sequoia forest, where the massive trees had been scorched and felled.

As he read, his expression grew more serious. With his sharp, angular face and firm demeanor, the weight of the findings seemed to make his features even more rigid.

"There is indeed weak radioactive residue in the soil, consistent with elements from outer space. It's similar to what has been found in past meteorite samples, but..."

His fingers tapped the page lightly as he frowned.

"...there are no signs of rocky meteorite materials. Even after two years, traces of such material should still exist."

He paused, his brow furrowing deeply.

"Unless... what fell wasn't a meteorite at all, but something else."

Sam's face darkened, his eyes sharp and full of foreboding.

Setting the report down, he leaned back slightly, his mind heavy with suspicion.

General Vic had indeed been hiding something. He had obtained something, but what?

Alien technology?

The thought sent a chill down Sam's spine. If General Vic really possessed something extraterrestrial, it could grant him insurmountable power.

His eyes drifted to the yellow file bag on the desk.

Without thinking, he reached for it, his fingers brushing over its slightly smooth surface. It felt like a book cover, and he could faintly make out the shape of a small, round object inside, along with what felt like a few sheets of paper.

What could it be?

Looping his finger through the string closure, he untied it and opened the bag. Peering inside, he froze.

His eyes narrowed abruptly, his breathing hitched, and his chest tightened.

Inside was a roll of film, along with several photographs. The photos were partially concealed by the bag's angle, but he could clearly see the film roll.

Judging by the size and type, it appeared to match the film used in the Pentax K1000 camera carried by Mike.

Excitement and disbelief surged in Sam's chest. Could this be the evidence he needed to bring down General Vic?

Without hesitation, he tilted the bag, dumping its contents onto the desk.

The film roll tumbled out, followed by the photos, which scattered across the surface.

Sam grabbed the rolling film, examining it closely. It was indeed for a Pentax K1000 camera.

His breathing grew heavier.

Someone had delivered a monumental gift to him, evidence that could destroy General Vic.

Setting the film aside, he reached for the photos, picking them up with both hands.

The images were dark, but their content was unmistakable.

The location was the giant sequoia forest, near the crater. One photo in particular stood out: it captured a figure, suspended from what appeared to be a spacecraft. The angle was close, revealing the figure's face in startling clarity. The scars and features were distinct.

It was Bardi.

The spacecraft's design was unlike anything made on Earth, with glowing fires illuminating the wreckage.

Sam Lane's pupils dilated in shock as he flipped through the photographs one by one, his heart pounding louder with each image.

"This... this is..."

His voice trembled slightly as his mind raced.

"A living alien."

A chill crept up his spine, freezing him in place. His body erupted in goosebumps as the realization sank in.

He knew who Bardi was.

The infamous "Barmulodi," who had risen to power in the underworld and created a fearsome gang, was no mere human. He wasn't just a bioweapon or some enhanced warrior.

He was an alien.

Suddenly, everything clicked. The so-called god-like figure had cultivated a following, building an empire, and now it seemed obvious: this was no simple power struggle among humans. This could escalate into a war between Earth and an alien civilization.

If Bardi was an advance scout, how many more like him were out there? Was an invasion looming?

Human coexistence with aliens? Impossible.

The thought felt as absurd as a rabbit sharing a den with a wolf. The strong devour the weak, that's nature's law, and it extended to the universe.

Sam Lane's thoughts spiraled, his mind unable to settle.

'Bang!'

He slammed his palm down on the desk, the sound reverberating through the study. The documents trembled under the impact, the echo lingering in the silence.

His face was livid, his rage and frustration boiling over.

"Vic!"

He roared General Vic's name, his voice filled with fury.

The general had gone too far, his arrogance, his secrecy, his willingness to endanger the country. Hiding something of this magnitude was unforgivable.

Sam's expression remained dark as storm clouds filled his mind.

Stuffing the film and photos back into the file bag, he rose from his seat. This evidence had to be delivered to the upper echelons of the military immediately. Bardi had to be apprehended—no, stopped.

This was no longer a personal grudge or a matter of career advancement.

This was about Earth's survival.

The villa was eerily quiet as Sam stormed out of the study.

The silence felt oppressive, like the tension in a horror movie just before the monster strikes.

Even his own footsteps felt too loud against the stillness.

He passed his daughter's room on the way down and froze.

The door was ajar.

In the faint darkness, he caught sight of a figure—white and shadowy—inside.

***

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