DC: Tyrant

The wheelchair reclined slightly, with Bardi's head resting against the cold metal backrest. He could feel the faint chill of the pulse radiofrequency needle embedded in his spinal cord.

As the anesthetic gradually wore off, for the first time in nearly ten months, he could sense faint responses from his body. The sensation was weak, he could barely register the touch of a hand on the metal wheelchair's handle, but his brain couldn't send commands to make his body move.

Bardi's gaze flickered briefly, glancing at Slade and Bori, who stood nearby, their figures stark against the sterile white of the room.

Relief settled faintly in Bardi's heart. His carefully calculated plan to manipulate Jenny had worked. She had followed the trajectory he'd laid out for her, and now they had reached this pivotal moment.

It had succeeded.

Even if he truly ended up paralyzed, it wouldn't matter. Bardi had already resigned himself to this possibility, fully prepared to trade genuine paralysis for a sliver of freedom.

In fact, real paralysis would ensure they let their guard down around him.

This was the key to his plan.

Now, he could gain some limited freedom. Though confined to the wheelchair, this access would allow him to observe the layout of the underground base and study the advanced technology they were developing. Every detail he gathered would bring him closer to regaining his independence.

For Bardi, this was a glimpse into the future.

The only thing more terrifying than his current state of captivity was the prospect of permanent imprisonment, cut off from the outside world forever. But with a little freedom, he could exploit their complacency, feeding their greed until they gave him the chance to break free completely.

His heart swelled with a dark satisfaction as he began strategizing the next phase of his plan. If he could reestablish contact with the crashed spaceship, it would unlock even more possibilities.

For example, the spaceship's onboard artificial intelligence could wreak havoc on this base. It alone was enough to destroy everything. If played correctly, he might not even need to lift a finger to reduce this underground prison to rubble.

But for now, patience was critical. He couldn't risk exposing the AI, it was still a trump card they hadn't discovered yet. This fact had been confirmed from the information Jenny had unknowingly let slip.

The time to act would come, but first, he needed to stabilize Jenny's emotions. She was critical to his plans. Her love had blinded her, making her overly naive and trusting.

Once she activated the pulse radiofrequency needle, it would paralyze him completely. To her horror, she would believe she had caused Bardi's lifelong paralysis. The guilt would crush her, leaving her vulnerable and easier to manipulate.

Bardi silently rehearsed how he would comfort Jenny in the aftermath, carefully considering how to navigate her collapse and despair. After all, she would blame herself for crippling him, unaware that it was part of his design.

He wasn't the only one playing the game, though. Slade, Bori, and even General Vic all believed they had won.

Slade wanted Bardi completely paralyzed, removing him as a threat, and he had achieved that. Bori sought to extract the knowledge in Bardi's mind, confident that his immobility would force him to cooperate. Vic had obtained Jenny's research results, advancing their technological capabilities.

On the surface, it seemed like everyone had gotten what they wanted.

But beneath it all, Bardi remained the one holding the strings. Like the fisherman controlling the net, he had used Jenny as a pawn to position himself at the center of their tangled schemes. They thought they had ensnared him, but in truth, he was the one orchestrating their downfall.

From behind him, Jenny's voice broke his thoughts. "I'm starting, Bardi. Let me know if you feel anything." Her voice trembled with nervousness and concern as her beautiful eyes stayed fixed on his face.

Even though she had checked the pulse radiofrequency needle's settings multiple times, she couldn't suppress the unease twisting in her heart.

"Okay," Bardi replied, smiling softly. His calm expression reassured her, easing her restless mind.

Colonel Slade, standing to the side, observed Bardi with a cold, scrutinizing gaze. To him, Bardi's serene smile was unnerving. It was the smile of someone in control, someone who had calculated every move.

This alien… doesn't he care that he's about to be paralyzed?

A flicker of doubt crossed Slade's mind. His hand hovered near the pistol at his waist. Perhaps it would be better to eliminate this alien now, before he became a bigger threat.

But Slade couldn't act. He was only a single node in the larger web of power within the base. Like the knots of a fishing net, he was connected to and restrained by others—Vic, Bori, the soldiers under his command. Shooting Bardi would jeopardize everything he had worked for, including his position as Vic's confidant.

The decision not to act would become the greatest regret of his life and the nightmare that haunted him in the future.

Jenny's hands trembled slightly as she pressed the switch. Holding her breath, she stared intently at Bardi, bracing herself for his reaction.

The moment the switch was activated, a jolt of pain tore through Bardi's body. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as an excruciating sensation coursed from the soles of his feet, shooting up his spinal cord. The electric currents seared through his nerves, tearing through every muscle, bone, and tissue until they reached his brain.

It was pain unlike anything he had ever experienced, far worse than the scalpel cutting into his flesh. His body screamed in agony, yet at the same time, he felt a rush of life. Every fiber of his being surged with energy as dormant muscles roared back to life. His veins bulged like writhing serpents, pulsating with raw power.

In that moment, Bardi realized that if he were to stand and throw a single punch, he could obliterate Slade and anyone else in the room. The sheer force of his movements would make it impossible for the soldiers to react in time. He could tear through them like a storm.

The temptation was overwhelming. His teeth clenched, his face twisted with pain and a violent urge for destruction. His body demanded release, demanded retribution.

Kill them. Kill them all. Destroy everyone who dares to imprison me.

But even as rage surged within him, Bardi's rational mind prevailed. He caught sight of Slade's pistol and the soldiers' rifles trained on him, their black muzzles ready to fire at the slightest provocation.

Drawing on the meditation techniques from the Kryptonian Union, Bardi forced himself to calm down. He replayed the steps of his plan in his mind, reminding himself of the stakes. A single misstep could destroy everything he had worked for.

Slowly, he released the violent thoughts clawing at him. His hands gripped the stainless-steel wheelchair handles so tightly that they dented under the pressure, leaving clear handprints.

Sweat poured down his face as his breathing grew labored, exhaustion overtaking him.

Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the sensation of control over his body vanished. His connection to his limbs was severed, the pulses from his spinal cord silenced. It was as though he had never felt his body at all.

The brief moment of strength had been enough to prove his capability, but Bardi knew better than to act now. Rising from the wheelchair and attacking would expose his true potential, shattering the carefully constructed image of a peaceful Kryptonian prince.

If they saw him as a threat, their precautions would intensify, and all his efforts to lower their guard would be undone.