DC: Tyrant

Bardi had promised Jenny he would help them advance their research and share his technological knowledge. In exchange, he had hoped for a semblance of freedom, perhaps even the opportunity to leave his cell. But not at the cost of his own body being mutilated.

The price they proposed was far too high.

It wasn't freedom they wanted for him; they sought only to bleed him dry, to extract every ounce of knowledge he possessed. His ability to act, his autonomy—they sought to strip it all away. It was calculated, cold, and ruthless.

And Bardi had to admit, it was an effective strategy.

The "tendons and hamstrings" Slade wanted to sever were vital to human movement. They connected muscles to bones, enabling contraction and motion. Without them, walking or even basic movement was impossible. Severing them would render him a prisoner in his own body, incapable of resistance.

Once severed, the tendons and hamstrings would retract and heal in their broken state, leaving the muscles permanently atrophied. Even exposure to the sun's yellow rays, which would otherwise allow him to tap into the full power of his Kryptonian genes, would not regenerate tendons that had already scarred over.

He could see it clearly: they wanted to ensure that no matter how strong he became, he would remain helpless.

Bardi could imagine the reasoning behind Slade's cruel plan. As his body adapted to the drugs they were using, the muscle relaxants were gradually losing their effectiveness. Even after months of confinement and repeated doses, his Kryptonian physiology, ten times stronger than an Earth human's made him a potential threat.

Even if they bound his legs and restricted his movements with shackles, the sheer force of his shoulders alone could dent the walls of this base. He was a living weapon—a humanoid Tyrannosaurus Rex.

To Slade, Bardi's story about being Krypton's last surviving prince was nothing more than a fabrication to manipulate Jenny.

Slade didn't believe a word of it.

How could a prince, especially one from an advanced civilization capable of interstellar travel bear the hardened scars of a warrior? How could someone bred for nobility possess the battle-worn physique of a soldier? The deep scar on his face alone told a tale of countless life-and-death struggles.

No prince, Slade reasoned, would have endured what Bardi clearly had.

Even when Bardi adjusted his story to include the idea that Krypton valued personal bravery as a tradition, that their princes were expected to lead by example, Slade wasn't convinced. His sharp instincts, honed on countless battlefields, screamed that Bardi was far more dangerous than he let on.

Slade had made up his mind. Bardi wouldn't leave this cell unless his tendons and hamstrings were severed.

General Vic, ever pragmatic, had already given the order: "Do whatever's necessary, as long as he doesn't die. There's always value in research."

The warning had been delivered, and Bardi felt the full weight of its implications.

He suppressed the rage building within him, a volcanic fury threatening to erupt. He couldn't afford to lose control, not now.

Instead, he turned his attention to Jenny, who was still leaning on his shoulder, sobbing softly. Gently, he tilted his head toward hers, brushing his face against her tear-streaked cheek. His voice was calm, even tender, as he spoke:

"Jenny, I understand their fear. I understand the precautions they want to take. As long as you're by my side, I'm willing to endure anything."

The words were laced with sorrow, delivered with a faint, bittersweet smile.

The effect was immediate. Jenny's grip on his hand tightened, her heart aching at the weight of his words.

"How can they do this to you?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Bardi continued, his tone soft and filled with regret. "I only want to live in peace on this planet. To walk under the moon with you, to feel the warmth of the sun on my face."

He paused, his gaze distant, as if lost in a dream. "On Krypton, when two people were truly in love, they would marry under the sun. It was a promise, a vow that would bind them for life."

Jenny's tears fell harder, her heart breaking at the thought of Bardi's suffering.

She couldn't bear the idea of him being crippled, of his freedom and dreams being destroyed. In her mind, she had already begun to picture a future with him. The idea of walking hand in hand, of sharing a life together, had become a part of her.

Bardi's voice broke the silence again, low and wistful. "I wanted to visit the Harvard library with you. To walk through the Museum of Comparative Zoology. To share the places you hold dear, the stadiums you dislike, the specimens you cherish…"

He trailed off, his words hanging in the air.

Jenny's breath hitched, her body trembling as her tears soaked into his white prison uniform.

"I won't let them do this to you," she whispered fiercely, her voice trembling with resolve.

She could feel the weight of his sacrifice. He had given up everything—his status, his past—just for a chance at a peaceful life with her.

Jenny's love for Bardi, her first love, consumed her entirely. The rational, scientific part of her mind was overwhelmed by her emotions. She could think of nothing but protecting him.

Bardi sighed, his voice filled with quiet longing. "If only there were another way. Perhaps if they could block my spinal nerve…"

Jenny froze.

Spinal nerves controlled movement and sensation. If the impulses from the brain to the limbs were blocked, Bardi would be paralyzed, unable to move. But the rest of his body would remain functional.

It was dangerous, yes, but far less permanent than severing tendons. With the right technology, the block could be reversed, allowing for full recovery.

Of course, Bardi knew this. He had studied Kryptonian genetics extensively and understood his own physiology better than anyone. If he could just bask in the sun's rays, his body would regenerate and override the nerve block entirely.

But Jenny didn't know that.

To her, the idea of paralyzing Bardi temporarily seemed like a compromise, a way to keep him safe without permanently crippling him.

Bardi could see the conflict in her eyes as she processed his suggestion.

"Honey, wait for me," she said finally, her voice shaking but resolute. "I won't let them turn you into a cripple."

She kissed him tenderly, her lips brushing against his, before stepping back. Her heels clicked against the floor as she hurried from the room, determination etched into every line of her face.

As the door closed behind her, Bardi lowered his head, his expression calm.

But in his heart, the cold fury remained.

If I am free, you will die.