DC: Tyrant

Underground base.

"Colonel Slade, I don't understand you." Bori spoke quickly as he pulled Slade along the corridor. His wiry frame moved with surprising speed as he pressed his point. "Bardi has explained his planet's beliefs countless times, and yet you insist on stopping him. Are you trying to drive him to desperation? Do you really want him to die?"

Slade followed, his expression cold and stoic as he broke free of Dean Bori's grip. "I'll stop anything he tries to do," he replied flatly, his voice devoid of emotion.

It wasn't logic that drove Slade's decision, it was his unshakable intuition.

From the very beginning, he'd known there was more to Bardi than met the eye.

But why?

That was the part that eluded him, the part that gnawed at his mind like an itch he couldn't scratch. It wasn't something he could explain, and that made it all the more frustrating.

Bardi's unwavering belief, the way he spoke of the sun, his willpower, it was all too much for Slade to dismiss as mere eccentricity. It felt like something deeper, something dangerous.

Bori, flushed with frustration, turned to glare at Slade. "Do you even understand how valuable Bardi is to us? His worth isn't just in the knowledge locked away in his head! Jenny's experiment succeeded last night."

Slade's expression didn't shift, but his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Jenny managed to use the gene catalyst on his cells, combined with infrared light, to produce a working serum," Bori continued, his excitement palpable. "We have it—a real, functioning serum. All that remains is clinical testing, and I can promise you the results won't disappoint."

He paused for dramatic effect, his words hanging in the air like a challenge. "He cannot die. Fulfilling his religious belief is nothing compared to what we stand to gain. As long as he's alive, we'll have an endless supply of blood samples to work with."

Slade's sharp eyes flicked toward Bori, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. "I know," he said coolly. "That's why I've already stationed a fully equipped team on the surface and raised the base's alert level. The ground-level entry and exit points are sealed. No one's getting in or out. I've made sure of it."

Bori's expression softened slightly, though his irritation lingered.

"Since he claims to want a peaceful life with Jenny," Slade continued, his tone edged with skepticism, "then there should be no trouble."

Still, Slade's instincts screamed otherwise. He couldn't shake the unease that clung to him like a shadow.

"Colonel," Bori said, his tone softening into something more conciliatory, "your precautions are... thorough, as always. Perhaps overly so."

Slade said nothing.

They reached the door to Jenny's lab, and Bori pushed it open, revealing a room bathed in clinical white light. Inside, various pieces of advanced equipment stood neatly arranged, but all attention was drawn to the single test tube resting in the center of a workstation.

The tube contained a vivid red liquid, clear and gem-like.

It was the genetic serum.

Dean Bori's thin face lit up with childlike excitement as he moved closer to the workstation. "Look at this," he said breathlessly, his voice trembling with awe. "Jenny truly is a genius—a genius among geniuses."

Suddenly, a loud banging sound broke the quiet.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The noise came from a glass enclosure at the edge of the room. Inside, a white mouse, roughly the size of an adult's palm, was ramming itself violently against the glass, its red eyes glowing with an unnatural intensity.

Bori's expression shifted to one of surprise.

"This is the result of the serum," he explained, moving closer to the glass. "Before I came to find you, I injected the mouse with a small dose. The effects were almost instantaneous. Its body size has increased by at least fifty percent, and its strength has more than doubled."

Slade's eyes were locked on the mouse, his sharp features betraying a flicker of unease. "It looks... agitated. Are there side effects?"

Bori frowned but quickly dismissed the concern. "I'll run a test," he said, grabbing a syringe and approaching the enclosure. With practiced ease, he restrained the mouse, drawing a small sample of its blood.

Slade watched in silence as Bori moved to a nearby station and began analyzing the sample. The seconds stretched into minutes, the tension in the room thickening as the mouse continued to thrash against the glass.

Finally, Bori straightened, his face glowing with excitement. "The genes are completely stable," he announced triumphantly. "No signs of collapse. None of the issues we encountered in previous attempts. Jenny's gene catalyst worked, it stabilized the genetic structure perfectly."

He turned to Slade, his thin frame trembling with exhilaration. "Do you realize what this means? With this serum, we could replicate Bardi's physique, a body as strong as his, capable of lifting ten tons or more."

Slade's breath hitched. Ten tons.

For a moment, he let himself imagine it. If he had a body like Bardi's, with that kind of strength, would he still feel this gnawing sense of fear and inadequacy?

The thought was intoxicating.

Bori moved to a computer terminal, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he accessed Jenny's experimental records. The screen's glow reflected off his glasses, illuminating his face as he scanned the data.

"It's all here," he said, his voice brimming with admiration. "Jenny recorded everything, the exact procedure, the catalysts, the wavelengths of the infrared light. She even speculated that different wavelengths might produce different effects, potentially even superhuman abilities."

Slade's head snapped toward Dean Bori. "Superhuman abilities?"

The old man nodded, his excitement spilling over. "Yes! Imagine what we could achieve if we pushed this further. The possibilities are endless."

Slade's mind raced. He thought of Bardi, of the strange conviction in his eyes when he spoke of the sun. A chilling thought began to form.

"Do Bardi's cells respond to far-infrared light?" Slade asked, his voice low and deliberate.

Dean Bori paused, caught off guard. "Yes," he said slowly. "Far-infrared light, in the 4-14 micron range, is particularly effective. It promotes internal heat, expands microvessels, and stimulates circulation. The effect on Bardi's cells is even more pronounced."

Slade's jaw tightened. "And if his cells respond to infrared, could they also respond to the other rays of the sun?"

Dean Bori hesitated. "It's... possible. But we'd need to conduct further experiments to be sure."

Before Slade could respond, the walkie-talkie on his belt crackled to life with a burst of static.

Then came the scream.

A high-pitched, blood-curdling scream that echoed through the room, sending a chill down both men's spines.

Slade grabbed the walkie-talkie, his sharp instincts kicking in. "What's going on? Report!"

But there was no answer, only the sound of heavy breathing and distant chaos.

*****

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