DC: Rise Of The Kryptonian Tyrant

If the Patriot IV ballistic missile had emotions, it would likely be feeling quite proud of itself, it had certainly become the center of attention.

Amid the 17,000 soldiers staring up in stunned terror, mouths agape and eyes wide with disbelief, the missile made its dramatic descent, slamming directly into the seventh floor of the soldiers' dormitory.

For a moment, time itself seemed to slow. Every heart was caught in a vise of tension, their collective dread suspended in silence. The sky, the ground, and even the air itself seemed to hold its breath, amplifying the weight of what was happening.

Then, the explosion came.

The seven-story dormitory split apart in an instant. The cement walls disintegrated into fine dust, a process far too rapid for the human eye to fully comprehend.

The first thing the soldiers saw was the dormitory collapsing into a thick, rolling cloud of dust. Then came the searing fireball, an irregular mass of intense heat and energy that erupted from the missile's payload. It surged upward, consuming the dust cloud as it rose, and radiating waves of destruction outward.

Large chunks of debris—stones, steel beams, and soil—were hurled in every direction by the force of the blast. The shockwave expanded outward like an unstoppable tide, driving the dust and heat across the area.

The deafening roar of the explosion tore through the air, assaulting the ears of every soldier. The ground trembled violently beneath their feet, as though the earth itself might flip over.

The soldiers watched the scene unfold in stunned silence, the light from the explosion so intense that many were forced to squint or shield their eyes with trembling hands.

Although the dormitory was located some distance from the main military base, the sheer magnitude of the explosion left an indelible mark on everyone who witnessed it. Those who had been fortunate enough to survive unscathed stared, speechless, as the towering fireball dissipated into thick black smoke that billowed skyward.

When the dust began to settle, nothing remained of the dormitory. The seven-story building had been obliterated, leaving behind a massive, charred crater. Several nearby buildings had also been affected—foundations cracked, walls tilted, and some structures reduced to rubble by the violent terrain shifts caused by the blast.

"What just happened?"

"An enemy attack?"

"Are the Soviets starting a war with us?"

"No… that was our own missile! It came from our base!"

Panic rippled through the ranks. The soldiers exchanged bewildered, terrified glances. They had all seen it, the missile that had turned back and struck their own dormitory. It didn't make sense. A ballistic missile shouldn't have been able to make such an impossible maneuver.

Yet here they were, standing amidst the aftermath of a catastrophe caused by their own weapon.

The explosion had obliterated their sleeping quarters, leaving many of them homeless. The sight of the thick black smoke rising from the crater was surreal.

As disbelief turned to desperation, officers of various ranks—majors, lieutenant colonels, and colonels began investigating what had gone wrong. Their frantic search for answers inevitably led them to Brigadier General Cagle.

Cagle's face was ashen, his expression dark with humiliation and rage.

"It's the base's network," he finally admitted, his voice hoarse. "It's been hacked."

The officers froze, their faces pale as the weight of those words sank in.

A hacked network.

The implications were staggering. How could the facilities of a military base, one of the most secure in the world be so easily compromised?

The officers and soldiers alike couldn't stop their thoughts from spiraling into worst-case scenarios. Their minds turned, unbidden, to the other missiles still in the silo. One of them, with a 10,000-ton payload, could unleash devastation far worse than what they had just witnessed. Images of Hiroshima and Nagasaki flashed through their minds, the horrors of those tragedies made all too real by the circumstances they now faced.

Almost in unison, many of them turned their eyes toward the missile silo, dread settling heavily in their chests.

The missile that had just detonated had carried the smallest payload. Larger, more destructive missiles were still armed and ready to launch.

As if on cue, their worst fears began to manifest.

Boom… rumble…

The ground beneath their feet trembled again. Dust danced into the air, shaking loose from every surface.

The 70-ton Annihilator III missile roared to life, its red-and-white tail flames cutting through the sky as it soared upward.

The soldiers on the ground were still reeling from the chaos caused by the earlier 30-ton missile, and now the sight of this larger, deadlier missile launching sent a fresh wave of panic surging through the ranks. Many stood frozen, their mouths hanging open, their weapons slack in their hands. A collective, disbelieving crack seemed to echo in their minds, shattering whatever composure they had left.

And then, under the terrified gaze of thousands, the missile left a thick, white trail in the sky—before it began to turn.

It was happening again.

Brigadier General Cagle felt his heart shatter. His voice erupted in a hoarse, desperate scream:

"Run!! Everyone leave the base! Evacuate now!"

The veins in his neck bulged as he roared, his face flushing red with the effort, as if he were forcing the blood from his body with every word. His throat burned like fire, but he didn't care.

This alien wasn't just attacking them. He was going to destroy the entire base—17,000 lives extinguished in a single, merciless strike.

Cagle's fury boiled over, his teeth grinding so hard that blood seeped from his gums. "Beast," he growled through clenched teeth, his voice raw with anger. His eyes burned red with a mix of rage and despair.

Seventeen thousand soldiers, his soldiers, were about to die—sacrificed without purpose, without meaning.

The futility of it all made his blood boil.

Cagle's voice rose again, strained and broken, but still carrying an unmistakable urgency. His shouts cut through the chaos, forcing every soldier to hear him:

"Get out! Run! Leave the base!"

For a moment, his orders broke through the collective terror, igniting a frenzy of movement.

---

The panic erupted like a bomb. Soldiers shouted in confusion, disbelief, and rage.

"What the hell is going on, sir?!"

"Run! Run for your lives!"

"Are you insane?! What are you doing?! Why are we targeting ourselves?!"

"Damn it! Move!"

Curses flew, loud and vulgar, as soldiers scrambled to escape. The gathered forces, so carefully assembled with advanced weaponry, tanks, and missiles were now scattering like panicked animals.

This wasn't a battle anymore. It was a slaughter waiting to happen.

Above them, the Annihilator III missile hung like the Sword of Damocles, its fiery trail a grim promise of annihilation.

Those who reacted quickly seized whatever vehicles they could find—jeeps, missile transporters, anything with wheels. Soldiers piled into them without hesitation, desperate to put distance between themselves and the base. Drivers floored the gas, caring nothing for those left behind.

The slower ones were forced to flee on foot, glancing over their shoulders with terror-filled eyes as the missile arced through the sky, beginning its deadly descent toward the base.

But the nightmare was far from over.

---

As soldiers scattered in panic, a deafening roar filled the air.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Missiles began to launch—dozens of them.

This time, they weren't coming from the silos but from the vehicle-mounted launchers on the base. Surface-to-surface and surface-to-air missiles fired wildly, their tail flames streaking through the air like vengeful comets.

And they weren't targeting an enemy.

They were aimed directly at the fleeing soldiers.

Explosions tore through the base.

Missiles slammed into crowds of panicked troops, detonating with devastating force. Bodies were hurled through the air like ragdolls. Screams of agony and terror filled the chaos as soldiers were torn apart by the blasts. Limbs and shrapnel flew in every direction, painting the ground in blood.

Vehicles exploded in violent bursts of fire and metal, jeeps flipping into the air like toys. Missile transporters erupted in flames, adding to the carnage.

The military base, once an orderly stronghold, had become a hellish wasteland in an instant. Black smoke billowed into the air, mixing with the cries of the wounded and dying.

Within seconds, nearly a thousand soldiers lay dead or severely injured. Hundreds more were struggling to flee, their faces twisted in terror as the air itself seemed to turn against them.

It was a massacre.

---

Amid the chaos, a soldier grabbed Brigadier General Cagle by the arm, trying to drag him away from the destruction.

"Sir, we have to go!" the soldier pleaded, his voice filled with desperation.

But Cagle shoved him aside with a snarl, his rage boiling over. "No!" he bellowed, his voice raw and unhinged. "I'm going to kill him!"

His eyes burned with fury as he turned toward the source of their suffering.

---

Above the devastation, the Annihilator III missile continued its descent.

Its target was clear now: the white laboratory building.

As the missile struck, the explosion shook the earth with unimaginable force.

The blast was blinding, a towering fireball consuming everything in its radius. The shockwave rolled outward, leveling what little remained of the area.

The sky seemed to darken as smoke and ash rose, obscuring the sun.

***

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