Chapter 56 – Who Am I? Dun-dun-dun… I Can’t Fly!

“HELP!!!”

…

Screams. Cries for help. Chaos erupted.

The crowd, which had gathered to watch what they thought would be a spectacle, suddenly turned into a panicked stampede.

The noise made the Kryptonians frown. General Zod tilted his head slightly—and without hesitation, the two soldiers beside him charged into the crowd.

And started killing.

People had believed Superman would arrive in time to stop the carnage.

They were wrong.

The trust he'd earned, the sense of safety he’d inspired—it shattered under the sound of bones breaking and bodies falling. Within seconds, the ground was littered with corpses.

Superman was still en route.

———

United States, Pentagon, Emergency Council Room

Bedlam.

Military officials, politicians, intelligence directors—they were all shouting over each other. Some called for negotiations. Others demanded immediate retaliation. A few, more paranoid, were already proposing evacuation plans and off-world survival contingencies.

Insanity reigned, but no answers came.

Everyone, deep down, was waiting for Superman.

On-Site – The Scene of the Massacre

The area had already been evacuated. No one dared approach the Kryptonians now. The blood-soaked plaza was deserted. Surveillance footage was the only view left, and though blurry, it was enough to capture the horror.

BOOM!

A red-and-blue streak crashed into the ground like a meteor, dust and debris rising in a choking cloud.

Superman's eyes were glowing red—heat vision on the brink of erupting.

Zod stepped forward calmly, sneering.
"Kal-El. You’ve finally shown yourself. Hand over the Genesis Codex. For your father’s sake, I’ll give you a warrior’s death."

Superman’s voice roared in fury.
"Why did you kill those people?!"

Zod blinked… then chuckled. He turned to his fellow Kryptonians, laughing as if Superman had just told a joke.

They smirked in turn. It was the look a predator gives prey. The sneering arrogance of superior beings.

"You call these backward, gene-deficient creatures people?"

Zod’s tone turned condescending.
"Fool. Only Kryptonians are truly human. You’re one of us—you should know that."

CRACK!

That was the sound of a breaking point.

Superman snapped.

Twin beams of burning red light exploded from his eyes like artillery fire, slamming into the Kryptonians and sending them flying.

But the blast barely scratched their armor.

Kryptonian combat suits—built for cosmic warfare—easily shrugged off radiation, plasma, and pressure. Even Superman’s heat vision couldn’t leave a dent.

Zod’s lips curled into a grin.
"What was that? Did Jor-El upgrade his little project?"

That attack had been equivalent to a starship’s secondary cannon.

"Impressive. So this is the power Jor-El gave you?" Zod chuckled. "Kal-El… you’re strong enough to fight by my side. Join me."

Superman growled, "Keep dreaming."

Zod’s grin vanished.
"Very well. Faora—educate him."

"Yes, General," the Kryptonian warrior replied. She stepped forward, eyes cold, gait precise. She was a weapon, nothing more.

From the perspective of human surveillance cameras, her movements looked like broken animation—glitchy, jittering, impossibly fast.

But to Superman?

She was slow.

Still, for reasons unknown even to him, Superman chose not to dodge. He took the punch head-on. His body skidded backward five meters, his boots carving trenches into the concrete.

Faora lifted her chin in contempt. That had been a soft hit—meant to discipline, not destroy.

But Superman had calculated her strength, measured the impact, and decided to return it.

With interest.

He vanished and reappeared in front of her. A blur. His fist slammed into her chest, shattering the energy layer protecting her suit.

CRACK!

Faora flew backward, faster than she’d attacked.

Zod was surprised. According to his intel, this “Superman” was a weakling—fragile enough to be taken out by Earthling-made firearms.

Clearly, things had changed.

"Hmph. Looks like Jor-El gave his boy some toys," Zod said mockingly. "Faora… no more holding back. Show him what a real warrior looks like."

Faora’s eyes lit up. She’d been itching for a real fight since they left Krypton. Finally—an opponent worth crushing.

Rooftop of a Distant Skyscraper

“Whoa! That punch! Ooh, nice sidekick!”

Garfield lounged on the rooftop, his tail swishing lazily as he watched the brawl below. His commentary flowed non-stop.

“Max, what is this—some Hollywood-style duel? One hit at a time, strictly turn-based? This is pathetic. I could end this in one punch.”

Max stood beside him, utterly speechless.

From his perspective, Faora’s close-combat skills were exceptional. In a fair fight with equal physical stats, Superman wouldn’t stand a chance.

But the guy was just brute-forcing everything—taking hits, then swinging back. No strategy. No technique.

And always non-lethal.

This farce of a fight would go on until Faora wore herself out.

Max scanned the area around the alien ship.
"This is our chance. Garfield, transform into a mouse. Sneak into one of their shuttles and hitch a ride onto the main ship."

"Wait, what?!" Garfield glared. "You want a cat to become a mouse? Max, are you out of your damn mind? One more word and I’ll carve you open with a claw!"

But Max remained unfazed.

"Fine, don’t shapeshift. Just generate one. You’re an Ultimate Lifeform—spawn a spy out of your own flesh."

"Oh… yeah. That works."

Garfield nodded. "I’ll send my tail."

With a flick, his tail extended unnaturally—then SNAP! It split in two. The detached half plummeted off the rooftop, transforming mid-air into a pigeon, and flew back.

Max handed the pigeon a strange key-like object.
"The Dragonfang Locator. Get this onboard, and we’ll be able to teleport straight to their ship."

The pigeon caught it and swallowed it whole.

Max frowned.
"Wait… can it even digest that?"

Garfield yawned.
"Relax. That thing’s just meat in pigeon form. It could swallow a whole cucumber if it had to."

"I’m more worried about it actually getting past their defenses. That ship’s gotta have anti-biological intrusion protocols."

"Bah. Worst case, it gets hurt. It won’t die. Now go!"

The pigeon cooed a few times, then dove off the building and glided toward the hovering alien vessel.

"Alright. My turn."

Max stretched.
"Garfield, if something goes wrong with the transformation—save me."

“Of course. If you turn into a fish, I’ll be there to gut you back to normal… after a taste.”

Garfield licked his lips. Ever since sampling alien blood, he'd been craving more.

"Plenty of Kryptonians down there. Eat all you want—if you survive. Transform!"

To boost his odds of drawing a powerful form, Max leapt off the rooftop before transforming.

WHOOSH!
Blazing green light erupted mid-air. Even in daylight, it dazzled the city.

People glanced skyward.

The light faded—

—and a monstrous red beast, armored in crimson carapace with charcoal-black underbelly and grotesque spikes, descended.

It had horns, a bladed tail, claws like swords. A melee titan.

“ROAR!!!”
(Translation: I CAN’T FREAKIN’ FLY!!!)

The beast—three and a half meters tall, nearly a metric ton—missed the nearest building.

CRASH!!!
Concrete exploded on impact.

(Somewhere, Gaia whispered: "10/10 landing.")

"Sheesh… that looked painful." Garfield snickered from above. "Still, that form looks beefy as hell. Should be fine."

Superman’s eyes narrowed.

He saw the beast… and the glowing green crest on its forehead.

Zod’s eyes narrowed too. His suit’s HUD flashed warnings.

[High-Energy Reaction Detected]

Two red triangles pulsed on the display—Danger Level: Two.

Kryptonian armor graded threats from one to three:

• Level One: Manageable.

• Level Two: Life-threatening. Suit may fail.

• Level Three: Immediate evacuation required.

This creature registered as Level Two.

It had been lying still for five minutes.

Water pipes had burst beneath the crater, soaking the monster’s body. Steam hissed upward, veiling the pit in mist.

Then—

“ROOOAAARRR!!”

(Translation: Dammit, I’m Groudon! Can’t fly, can’t talk!)

The creature—Groudon—rose, snarling.

Its skin radiated heat. The air warped. Steam turned to vapor.

Stones melted beneath its feet, turning into lava, bubbling and glowing red.

“ROAR!!”

With that, the beast announced its arrival.

On the Rooftop

Garfield stiffened.

Something was wrong.

That red brute hadn’t said a word since landing—just roared. And thanks to their soul contract, Garfield could understand the meaning behind the roars.

“…Wait. He really can’t talk?!”

Max had warned him about this possibility—some forms didn’t come with a functioning vocal system.

He needed a mouthpiece.

Garfield sighed.

"This is a hassle."

He leapt from the rooftop, shifting into a giant golden parrot mid-air.

Wings spread, he dove toward Groudon.

But just before reaching the beast—

Garfield's eyes widened.

His wings beat furiously as he changed direction, pulling away fast.

Something was terribly wrong.