Chapter 138: Harvest
General Zod's struggle to free himself from the shattered rock face became slower with each passing second.
His nose had already healed.
The collapsed bones in his chest had largely returned to their proper positions.
His body was undeniably growing stronger.
Every second beneath Earth's yellow sun increased his power.
Every second enhanced his durability.
Every second accelerated his regeneration.
Yet while his body advanced—
His spirit deteriorated.
Rapidly.
The last general of Krypton stood amid the ruins.
Blood covered his face.
His uniform was torn.
His eyes were bloodshot.
He had arrived on Earth carrying the future of an entire civilization.
Now everything was gone.
The World Engine had been destroyed.
The Black Zero's command structure had collapsed.
The Kryptonian forces had been defeated one after another.
Even the Codex and Krypton's dream of rebirth seemed farther away than ever.
And now—
He was being systematically dismantled by a masked figure whose identity remained completely unknown.
"Krypton is finished."
His voice was hoarse.
Dry.
Like sand scraping against stone.
"Everything I fought for..."
He lowered his head.
"...everything I devoted my life to..."
A long silence followed.
"It's gone."
Lynn stood ten meters away.
Arms relaxed at his sides.
Listening.
Waiting.
Not out of sympathy.
Not out of respect.
Because the All-Seeing Eye was observing something interesting.
Zod's biological indicators were becoming increasingly unstable.
Adrenaline levels had exceeded normal Kryptonian combat thresholds.
Neural activity within the cerebral cortex showed abnormal spikes.
The pattern was familiar.
Extremely familiar.
The profile matched individuals preparing to commit desperate acts.
Zod suddenly raised his head.
His eyes ignited.
Not toward Lynn.
Toward the east.
Three kilometers away stood a damaged subway entrance.
Beneath it, hundreds of civilians had gathered inside underground tunnels.
Families.
Children.
Rescue workers.
Survivors.
Approximately four hundred people.
Heat Vision began charging.
"I have no future."
Zod's voice had lost all restraint.
All reason.
"Neither will you."
Twin crimson beams erupted from his eyes.
Across the battlefield, Superman immediately understood what was happening.
His expression changed instantly.
He launched forward.
Ignoring injuries.
Ignoring exhaustion.
Ignoring pain.
Too far.
Three kilometers.
Even for Superman, the distance mattered.
At maximum acceleration, it would still require precious fractions of a second.
Normally that wouldn't matter.
Against Heat Vision, it mattered immensely.
Kryptonian thermal beams moved at near-light speed.
Entire buildings could be cut apart before Superman arrived.
Lynn acted first.
Electromagnetic Manipulation activated.
Not against the Heat Vision itself.
That would have been pointless.
Heat Vision, as commonly depicted in Superman comics and related media, behaves primarily as concentrated energy projected through specialized Kryptonian biological mechanisms. Deflecting the beam directly wasn't the optimal solution.
Instead, Lynn targeted its source.
The optic nerves.
The biological control structures behind the eyes.
The bioelectrical pathways governing emission.
Bioelectricity was still electricity.
And electricity fell comfortably within the domain of electromagnetic manipulation.
Lynn made a microscopic adjustment.
Nothing more.
A deviation of approximately 0.3 degrees.
Just 0.3 degrees.
At three kilometers of distance, that tiny correction altered the endpoint by more than fifteen meters.
Enough.
More than enough.
The Heat Vision tore across the battlefield.
A collapsed office tower was sliced cleanly in half.
Concrete vaporized.
Steel glowed white-hot.
The structure collapsed moments later.
The subway entrance remained untouched.
Every civilian survived.
Zod immediately noticed.
His eyes widened.
He attempted to correct the beam.
The trajectory shifted.
Then shifted again.
Then shifted again.
Each time Lynn adjusted the bioelectrical output by microscopic amounts.
Each time the beam missed.
Heat Vision swept wildly through abandoned ruins.
Destroyed rubble.
Collapsed infrastructure.
Empty structures.
Never once reaching a populated area.
"Enough."
Lynn's voice remained calm.
Then he moved.
The sound barrier shattered.
The explosion echoed across the battlefield.
In less than a fraction of a second, he stood directly before Zod.
His hand shot forward.
Five fingers wrapped around Zod's throat.
The Kryptonian general's Heat Vision remained active.
Twin beams struck Lynn's white mask directly.
Nothing happened.
The Intermediate Immortal Divine Body absorbed the incoming energy effortlessly.
The thermal output vanished into the Stellar Energy Cycle.
Even the mask's temperature barely changed.
"You..."
Zod struggled.
Both hands seized Lynn's wrist.
He pulled.
Twisted.
Forced.
Nothing moved.
His fingernails scraped against the alloy fibers of Lynn's combat robe.
Unable to penetrate.
Unable to damage.
Unable to accomplish anything.
Meanwhile, Lynn's grip tightened.
Gradually.
Deliberately.
Pressure built around Zod's cervical vertebrae.
Pain spread through his neck.
Bones creaked.
Then—
Something else happened.
A tiny prick.
Inside the elbow.
Barely noticeable.
Had Zod not possessed enhanced Kryptonian senses, he might never have detected it.
A miniature extraction needle emerged from the tip of Lynn's left index finger.
Constructed from vibranium.
Reinforced through electromagnetic compression.
Refined specifically for Kryptonian biology.
The needle pierced the median cubital vein.
Half a second later—
The extraction completed.
Two milliliters of blood.
Not ordinary Kryptonian blood.
Not soldier-level genetic material.
Commander-level genetics.
The blood of General Zod himself.
A far superior template compared to Fiora's.
One carrying generations of Kryptonian military optimization.
The sample disappeared into secure storage immediately.
Mission accomplished.
Then Lynn tightened his grip fully.
SNAP.
The sound echoed across the battlefield.
Clear.
Sharp.
Unmistakable.
C1.
C2.
C3.
C4.
Four cervical vertebrae shattered simultaneously.
Even Kryptonian skeletal structures possessed limits.
And before the Immortal Divine Body's overwhelming strength, those limits meant very little.
Zod's body immediately lost support.
His arms fell.
His legs buckled.
Had Lynn not still been holding him upright, he would have collapsed instantly.
The red glow faded from his eyes.
His pupils began dilating.
He wasn't dead.
Not yet.
Kryptonians possessed extraordinary vitality.
His brainstem still functioned.
His heart still beat.
The yellow sun desperately attempted repairs.
Given enough time, regeneration might eventually restore the damage.
Lynn had no intention of providing that time.
He released his grip.
Zod collapsed onto the ruined earth.
Motionless.
Broken.
Dying.
Lynn looked down.
The Kryptonian's lips moved faintly.
His vocal system no longer functioned properly.
No sound emerged.
Yet Lynn could read the words easily.
"Krypton..."
Only one word.
One final thought.
One final regret.
Then the light left his eyes.
General Zod.
Commander of Krypton's Military Guild.
Last General of Krypton.
Dead.
Lynn removed a cryogenic storage container.
Placed the newly acquired blood sample inside.
Then secured it within his combat robe.
He did not remain beside the corpse.
There was no reason to.
The battlefield had already changed.
He leaped onto a section of ruined elevation overlooking the city.
From there, the entire conflict became visible.
Fiora-Ul had fallen unconscious.
The remaining Kryptonian warriors had been subdued by Superman.
The Black Zero, deprived of operational support, had begun its descent toward the Pacific Ocean.
The invasion was over.
But a different problem had already arrived.
Lynn looked up.
Several figures were approaching.
Superman descended from the sky.
Captain America crossed the rubble at a run.
Tony Stark landed nearby in his damaged armor.
Bruce Wayne remained atop a partially collapsed structure, observing silently.
Thor emerged carrying Mjolnir through the debris.
Farther away, Barry Allen stood with assistance, still recovering from injuries sustained during the World Engine's gravitational assault.
Without speaking a word, they formed a loose semicircle around him.
The war was finished.
The questions were only beginning.
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