The World Engine opened fire.
Orbital cannons discharged in synchronized bursts, lances of searing light arcing down through the atmosphere. Explosions rippled across the surface below, incinerating vast swaths of jungle in seconds.
The planet roared in response.
Colossal beasts surged from the forests—towering reptilian titans, winged predators with wingspans large enough to eclipse dropships. Their howls shook the air as they launched themselves toward the descending Kryptonian fortress.
It didn't matter.
Black-armored figures streaked across the sky.
Kryptonian elite units intercepted the airborne creatures mid-flight, tearing through scale and bone with brutal efficiency. Shockwaves rolled across the clouds as bodies fell burning back toward the surface.
"Fall back," Rhael commanded from above.
The order carried through open air without amplification.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The warriors disengaged instantly, retreating toward the World Engine's perimeter.
Rhael hovered alone.
No suit-assisted propulsion. No mechanical thrusters. He stood in open sky, sustained purely by his own flight—solar-augmented biology holding him aloft as though gravity were optional.
A cluster of winged beasts dove toward him, screeching.
Rhael's expression didn't change.
"Enough."
He drew his arm back and drove a single punch downward.
The atmosphere detonated.
A spatial shockwave erupted from his fist, compressing air into a violent concussive blast. The leading creature disintegrated on impact, its massive frame reduced to fragments. The expanding force continued outward, shredding everything in its path.
Cloud cover split apart.
The last of the aerial resistance vanished in a haze of blood and debris.
Silence returned to the sky.
Below, the surface burned.
This world—designated Nipton by Aquarius survey data—had been discovered drifting at the edge of a sparsely charted sector. Atmospheric composition: compatible. Gravity: acceptable. Radiation profile: stable.
No intelligent civilization.
No cities.
No technology signatures.
Only megafauna—predatory, territorial, dominant.
Rhael had made the decision without hesitation.
"Secure it."
They could not drift forever.
A species without territory was a species awaiting extinction.
Krypton's remnants needed a foothold—a planet capable of sustaining their biology, a cradle for rebuilding infrastructure and population. Nipton offered all of it.
The initial assessment had underestimated the danger. The biosphere was not merely prehistoric—it was hostile. Apex predators here rivaled small starships in mass.
But even the largest among them fell before Kryptonian strength.
Faora led ground suppression teams, clearing a ten-kilometer radius around the World Engine's landing site. Shock impacts echoed through the valleys as beasts were eliminated or driven into the wild periphery.
Behind them, the World Engine descended.
Its blade-like base pierced a mountain ridge and anchored deep into bedrock. Stabilizers deployed. Atmospheric processors began cycling automatically, adjusting pressure and composition in localized zones.
Above, the Aquarius maintained overwatch.
Rhael settled onto a high outcrop overlooking the scorched forest.
He studied the land without sentiment.
Planetary conquest was never clean.
But survival was rarely gentle.
"We were fortunate," Lilith said, joining him at the ridge. "Ancient Krypton maintained extensive xenofauna programs. We have the expertise to domesticate aggressive species."
Rhael nodded.
He remembered the archival footage—Kryptonian riders mounted on engineered war-beasts, bio-adapted creatures integrated into military operations.
"These will be assets," he said. "Not pests."
Lucine approached with a datapad projection flickering at her wrist.
"With a stable atmosphere and controlled zone established, we can activate incubation protocols," she said. "The Genesis Chambers aboard the World Engine are intact."
The future.
Artificial gestation.
Population restoration.
But she hesitated.
"There is still one problem," Lucine added. "The Codex."
Rhael's eyes narrowed slightly.
The Codex—the genetic archive containing the complete record of Kryptonian lineage. Every bloodline. Every engineered trait. The foundation of their civilization's reproductive system.
When Krypton fell, it vanished.
Without it, reconstruction would be incomplete.
Rhael turned his gaze toward the sky.
He knew where it had gone.
Not lost.
Transferred.
Embedded within a single individual.
A child sent across the stars.
Clark.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his expression.
"We'll retrieve it," Rhael said calmly.
Below them, the fires continued to burn.
Above them, a new empire prepared to rise.