Good morning! Here is a wonderful long new chapter for all y'all!

General Zod really comes to light in this chapter, and I have to admit, he has to be one of my favorite characters in the DCEU and was woefully underdeveloped in MoS. I've done my best to expand upon his psychology and explain his thought process throughout his years of searching, and I understand that my interpretation of him in the movie may be a bit different from all of my readers, so I've included a bit more of a through explanation at the bottom of this chapter.

On another note, I've also expanded Darcie's thinking quite a bit too (I can hear my fellow psychology majors whispering for me to shut up). There are quite a few parallels between her and Zod, and most of those are due to both of the characters being members of Krypton's Warrior Guild, which is explained a bit more at the bottom of the chapter.

Please leave comments, questions, and kudos, I love replying to them!

Chapter 32: The General

Dru was not as young as he had once been - not as young as he had been when he had attempted to overthrow Krypton's ruling council to protect his people, not as young as he had been when he was imprisoned for it, not as young as he had been when he had killed his closest friend. Dru was not as young as he had once been, especially after years of grueling space travel and scavenging what he could from abandoned outposts, but he'd be damned to hell by Rao himself before he let his age get the better of him.

He lived for a single purpose: to protect Krypton and its people. And having long ago failed at the former, he strove to achieve the latter before death took that from him as well. 'For the Protection of Krypton and All Her Peoples' - that was why he had been born a Warrior, that was what he had been created for. And the only fault Dru could find in that was the terrible truth that his people were slowly dying out.

To Dru's knowledge, there were less than two dozen survivors of that once noble race. Nearly all of them were aboard his ship, the Black Zero - the prison craft turned saving grace, and the only thing that had kept these few alive for so long. Of course, there were the thousands of outposts from the Age of Exploration that may have maintained at least a small number of Kryptonians since that glorious era, but it had not taken Dru long to discover that those too had withered, degenerated, and died, cut off from Krypton as they were. But if the words of a grieving mother were true - they had to be true, there would be no hope for Krypton if Lara's son had died - there may be just one other survivor of their race living in hiding. And that one other might return to Dru his sole purpose.

If the Kryptonian species were to carry on, breeding of new children would need to occur as soon as possible while there were still adults to raise them. The natural reproduction process (vile, uncouth, unholy, Dru spat at the very thought of it) was completely out of the question, so the only answer to the problem of their diminishing population was a Genesis Chamber and the Codex required to operate it. With the correct resources, a Genesis Chamber could be constructed in an emergency such as this, but the Codex… the Codex of the Registry of Citizens had been lost forever when Dru's beloved planet fell to flame. Or at least, it would have been if his closest friend had not ensured the survival of both the Codex and his newborn son.

The son of Jor-El, the only other survivor of Krypton's demise, the keeper of the Codex. The son, now likely a young man, who years ago had disappeared into the void of space, never to be found - but he was found.

An ancient Kryptonian scout ship, yet another relic from the Age of Exploration, had somehow been re-activated after years of dormancy on a planet of little interest, and immediately sent out a distress call to any other Kryptonian starcraft that may be listening. It found only one: the Black Zero. And with that weak, hopeful signal, Dru knew that he had found his prey - only a Kryptonian could activate a dormant scout ship, and it was a Kryptonian they were looking for.

The Black Zero's makeshift phantom drive was called into action once more, crossing the span of a galaxy in less than an instant to arrive at the planet from whence the signal had come. It was a small backwater thing, orbiting a lone yellow sun, but it had a decently large population and Dru took the precaution of remaining hidden from the planet's occupants some time longer while he took stock of the situation from behind their single moon.

It was not hard to connect to the planet's vast communications network and quickly gain a sufficient grasp of its languages, nations, and loyalties. Earth, as the planet was known, was populated by a species much similar to Kryptonians, except that these 'humans' had an inefficiently high number of borders and divisions compared to the late glory of a wholly united Krypton. Even so, Dru took the time to assess each of the various human tribe's militant forces, but quickly discovered that they were weak and ignorant - easily defeated, he couldn't help but notice. But despite the planet's laughable defenses, Jor-El's son remained thoroughly well-hidden to the point where Dru doubted even most of the humans he lived among were aware of his presence. There were a few recent incidents detailed in the humans' news system of not one, but two persons resembling Kryptonians having been spotted near the location of the scout ship as seen by a woman named Lane, though when nothing came of Lane's investigation into the subject, Dru dismissed it as a coincidence. His focus was entirely on finding Jor-El's son, and chasing stories would only be a distraction.

Dru thought long and hard about how to find the son of Jor-El, especially if he did not want to be found, without risking the safety of the Codex. Sending warriors to the planet to hunt the young Kryptonian down might give him the illusion that Dru was a threat and prompt Jor-El's son to destroy the Codex out of desperation - not to mention the risk involved of exposing his warriors to an unknown atmosphere with possible physical complications. Communicating with the leaders of each human tribe to request their assistance would be troublesome and time-consuming considering how many there were. Diplomacy had never been Dru's strong point - he much preferred using fear as a quick motivator. He eventually came to the conclusion that the son of Jor-El would have to be summoned to the Black Zero to be reunited with his people, and the only guaranteed way to reach him was to send a message to all of Earth's occupants. The message would have to be concise and explain the Kryptonian presence while also expressing the urgency of their situation with an underlying threat to ensure that even if Jor-El's son refused to come out of hiding, the humans would surely hunt him down to avoid Dru's supposed wrath.

With the help of the Black Zero's science officer, the survivors of Krypton's demise managed to devise a way to broadcast Dru's message to the planet below, and it was not long before every human (and the lone Kryptonian) would know that General Dru-Zod quickly required the presence of their refugee. It had been a dangerous, yet calculated risk - if Dru was wrong and Jor-El's son was not the one who had activated the ancient scout ship that had led them to this planet, then no doubt the humans would react in aggression to the undue threat to their planet. But Dru was rarely wrong.

One of the stronger human tribes had replied to Dru's message not long before their allotted time ran out, explaining through a brief radio message that they had the son of Jor-El in their possession and were prepared to turn him over at a designated location. Dru's heart had leaped into his throat at the confirmation, and leaped once more when he assessed the chosen dropzone.

The humans had told the truth - Jor-El's offspring was in their possession, along with two other captives Dru had never thought to take into consideration: an unknown female Kryptonian survivor bearing the crest of the House of El, and the woman Lane who appeared to be one of only a handful of humans aware of the Kryptonian presence on Earth. Bargaining chips, Dru's tactical side realized - valuable ones to have in case circumstances changed, such as an unexpected attack from the human military or if Jor-El's son refused to cooperate. Intel informed him that both females would likely be present at the surrender and Dru was all too happy to take advantage of their presence.

After sending his Sub-Commander to collect the long-sought refugee along with Lane and the unknown Daughter of El to keep as possible ransoms, he donned his dark battle armor with its sweeping cape indicating his revered rank and prepared his soldiers for the meeting. The key to the survival of their race was close at hand, and Dru-Zod, General Commander of Krypton's Military and Leader of the Sword of Rao, stood at attention on the bridge of the starship Black Zero to welcome him.

V*V*V*V*V*V*V

Kal had a headache.

Ever since boarding the large, alien craft, his pulse had been pounding uncomfortably at his temples, not to mention how heavy he felt and how difficult the air was to breathe. But a quick glance at Jaora marching stoically at his side, her expression stern and showing no signs of the distress that Kal was feeling, made him rethink bringing his discomfort up. It was probably just nerves anyway.

Their escort of Kryptonian soldiers abruptly came to a halt, Sub-Commander Ul at the head of the group signaling for her squadron to wait as she keyed a command into a nearby door. It slid out of the way with a low hiss, allowing the three captives to enter the room on the other side while the soldiers blocked the way behind - the trio had no choice but to move forward.

The space they entered was clearly the bridge of the enormous starship, a large bay window looking down upon the distant Earth taking up the entirety of the far wall, and there were already a few more Kryptonian warriors waiting within who eyed the newcomers with cold curiosity. None of them said a word, but stepped aside in silent deference as their leader approached.

"Kal-El," a heavily armored Kryptonian raised his voice in greeting as he crossed the room, his dark alien armor and authoritative demeanor immediately marking him as a figure of respect. He looked older than many of his squadron, his expression worn and tired from many years of war, but his sharp gaze proved that he was possibly the most dangerous among them.

"I take it you're Zod?" Kal asked in response, instantly recognizing the voice from the message that had taken over Earth's airwaves only a day before. His throat tightened involuntarily, tension crawling up his spine, but he quickly swallowed it back and returned the greeting with a polite nod. The words were hardly out of his mouth before his question was responded to with a low snarl from the Sub-Commander, who was standing to attention nearby.

"General Zod," she corrected harshly, emphasizing the title, "Our commander-"

"It's all right, Faora," Zod assured her quickly, ending the confrontation before it escalated any further, "Kal-El is a stranger to our ways - I am sure we can forgive any lapses in decorum."

The Sub-Commander looked doubtful but held her peace as the General turned back towards the three newcomers. This was much more than Dru had expected, he mused as his analytical gaze took each one in turn - not only had his soldiers been able to successfully locate Kal-El, whose dark hair and reserved demeanor marked him as nothing less than the son of his father, but beside him stood a human female who might prove just as useful. Human military records identified her as Lois-Lane, an archivist of sorts who was one of the only humans aware of Kal-El's presence on Earth before Zod had announced the fact globally. The General did not usually take hostages - he knew from experience that they were often more trouble than they were worth - but this time, he had felt it necessary to make an exception. Having a human on the Black Zero would prevent both Kal and the human military from attacking if the situation took an unexpected turn, and Lane could turn out to be a highly valuable bargaining chip in the off-chance that Kal became indecisive (Dru was not as young as he had once been, yet he could still recognize the signs of a compassionate bond between two people).

Beside Lane stood another female - a survivor, it seemed, of both Krypton and the House of El, if the crest on her garment was anything to go by. She had identified herself at the dropzone as Jaora-El (no father's-name, Dru mused - though while unusual, the practice of omitting the identifier was not unheard of among higher-ranking female soldiers), and she clearly carried herself with the bearing of a fighter, eyeing her surroundings in a way that Dru recognized as careful, tactical assessment. A fellow warrior, then - good.

"If my memory serves me well..." he said slowly, addressing the warrior-refugee, "...I recall Kal-El being the only other survivor of Krypton's demise. So if you will tolerate my questioning, who might you be?"

"Jaora-El. I was born off-planet," she answered curtly, standing a little taller as she did. Zod only nodded at her response, and bowed his head in acknowledgment.

"But a child of Krypton all the same. This is cause for celebration - not conflict," he assured her in a lighter tone, his last words directed in Faora's direction as Dru smiled coolly, "Reunited as we are, Krypton can be reborn."

The tense atmosphere created by Zod's wary soldiers lightened ever-so-slightly, but Kal didn't seem to notice it, not even when Dru clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"You have no idea how long we've been searching for you," he told the younger Kryptonian, "It's been years, Kal-El - years spent hoping we would find you and despairing of our fate if we did not."

Kal barely heard the General's words, his head was pounding so hard, not to mention the fact that he was pretty sure he had stopped breathing a minute ago. His chest felt tight and empty, slowly collapsing in on itself as he was drained of energy, and not for the first time that day, Kal felt genuinely scared. Something was wrong - something was very wrong…

He glanced in Jaora's direction, but found it difficult to so much as focus on her face as he searched for any sign that she was struggling to breathe as well. And though she was hiding it very well, he knew her well enough to see that she felt it too. His heart quickened at the thought, a wave of dread washing over him, and he turned to Lois to mention the issue when a coughing fit overtook him. It passed a moment later, leaving a wet, metallic taste on his lips and Kal wiped it away with the back of his hand before pausing at the sight of it.

There was blood on his hand, staining it a deep, ugly crimson. Blood was bad, blood meant someone was bleeding, blood meant someone was injured. Whose blood was it - was it Lois'? Was she okay? She looked alright, except for the fear lighting up her eyes as she stared at him like-

Oh.

Kal knew whose blood it was.

The first time he had fainted at the sight of blood, he had been nine years old. His dad had cut his hand on a piece of barbed wire while out repairing an old fence and Clark had passed out on the spot. He came to a minute later to see both his parents leaning over him worriedly, and he himself felt sick to his stomach with fright, but his mom assured him that it was nothing to be worried about or ashamed of. Still, Clark had done his best to avoid witnessing such injuries ever since then, and later in life, he could hold himself together for the most part, though the sight and smell of blood still managed to send him reeling. It sent a wave of nausea washing over him along with trembling fright, and more often than not, his legs would give way beneath him - just like they were now.

Kal stumbled, struggling to remain upright but it was hard to do so with his head spinning the way it was and his legs refusing to work. It took all of his strength just to catch himself before he collapsed completely, forced down onto his hands and knees by the sudden weight building in his chest with every breath he took. Jaora was beside him now, looping one of his arms over her shoulders to support him and relieve some of the weight bearing him down while Kal tried to get his legs beneath him again, though by now he was too weak to even try. Recognizing that, Jaora carefully lowered him to the floor, hovering at his side as he continued to cough uncontrollably, fresh blood staining his lips.

"What's happening to him?" Lois asked, her tone just a little too clipped to be anything but sharply worried.

For the briefest of moments, Zod looked genuinely confused at the sight of Kal coughing up blood on the Black Zero's spotless bridge, then realization swept over him with a shake of his head. "He is rejecting our atmospherics."

Jaora eyed him warily, positioning herself protectively between Zod and Kal-El as the General stepped closer.

"You've spent a lifetime adapting to Earth's ecology, evolving to survive its conditions and gravity, and yet you never adapted to ours," he explained patiently, observing Kal with cold interest, "The process is painful, but you'll soon acclimate to the Kryptonian climate aboard our ship."

Jaora's sharp gaze snapped from her kinsman to Zod in an instant, fists curling at her sides as she rose to her feet, a dangerous red light glinting in her eyes.

"Help him," she demanded, her tone sharpened with an unsaid threat, "Help him now."

Zod spared a glance downward at the weak and barely-conscious Kal, but did not reply to Jaora's demand with much more than a shake of his head. "It is beyond anything that I can do. Whatever is happening to him has to run its course."

Kal swore his lungs were slowly being crushed inside his rib cage, the pain overwhelming all of his senses as he struggled to simply keep breathing. The familiar heavy darkness of unconsciousness was starting to creep in at the edges of his vision, and he could distantly feel Lois cradling his head in her lap, her usually calm and level voice now tinged with panic as she told him to focus, told him to keep breathing, begged him to keep breathing-

The last thing he was aware of was one of Zod's soldiers forcefully pulling Lois to her feet, and then everything went dark.

V*V*V*V*V*V*V

Jaora, admittedly, had known for a while now that she had a bit of a protective streak for him. Jor-El's consciousness on the ancient scout ship had briefly explained that maybe it was due to breeding - she was genetically inclined towards the Warrior guild, and of course, was dedicated to its primary purpose of protection. Maybe it was simply the fact that, chances were, Clark was being trailed by her Hunters because of her, so she owed him some safeguarding against them. Or maybe it was the knowledge that Clark had believably been the only other Kryptonian on Earth, the only other comfort she might have in her differences, and she wanted to keep that comfort safe.

Whatever the reason, she had continually and repeatedly told herself that she wasn't over-protective - just deeply concerned for his safety. Clark was the sort of person who could get along mostly fine by himself, though it never hurt to have someone else looking out for him, and for the past few months, Jaora had firmly believed that to be her job - nothing more, nothing less. But now, seeing him crumpled on the floor, unconscious and struggling to breathe as blood trickled slowly from his mouth, Jaora realized that maybe she was just the smallest bit overprotective.

Overprotective, and thoroughly, justifiably pissed.

It was not a conscious movement - she simply thought, and her body followed through. One moment, the soldier had been forcing Lois' wrists behind her back and marching her towards the exit (and no doubtedly a cell), and the next, said soldier was sprawled on the floor of the Black Zero's bridge with a bloodied, fractured nose while Lois was whisked to relative safety behind her rescuer. Jaora was already raising her fist to thoroughly knock the Kryptonian out when finally someone intervened.

"There is no need for violence," Zod snapped, catching her forearm before Jaora's blow could fall. She broke his grip on her instantly, growling deep in her throat as she turned her attention to the General and bared her teeth in a feral snarl.

"And," Jaora replied in a low voice," there is no need for you to lay a hand on either of them."

Hackles raised and the Kryptonian blade covertly taken from the scout ship flashing in her hand, the warrior-refugee made her position very clear as she dropped into a fighting stance. Even surrounded by at least a dozen of Krypton's finest soldiers, she was raring to get at their throats if any of them made even the slightest threatening movement towards the human hostage or the unconscious Kal-El - they were under her protection, and there was to be no getting near them.

General Zod seemed completely unfazed or even surprised by the entire scene, watching silently with cold calculation as he observed the lone female facing off against his warriors. He had been hoping it would not come to this - negotiation was a task in and of itself, but negotiating with a furious, threatened, and cornered guardian-warrior was far more than the word 'difficult' could define.

"You are clearly outnumbered, yet you are still prepared to fight," Zod commented thoughtfully aloud, drawing Jaora's attention, "Brave, but foolish - just like his father."

At a signal from their leader, two warriors leaped towards her, and ignoring her pounding headache, Jaora stepped forward to react. A knee to the groin, a punch to his throat when the soldier doubled over in pain, and a final blow to the jaw in just the right spot which knocked him out completely - the process was repeated with the other soldier, and in a matter of seconds, she had quickly and methodically rendered the attackers a non-threat. Another moment later and both of the unconscious Kryptonians had been relieved of their sidearms.

Despite her labored breathing, Jaora's face was set with determination as she set one of the weapons on the floor, kicking it gently towards Lois who was still huddled beside the unconscious Kal. The other she easily cocked with one hand, raising the blaster to fire...

… and aimed it at General Dru-Zod's head.

Jaora had two important things going for her at this particular moment: a very high level of expertise in the use of firearms, even unfamiliar ones, gained after years of intensive training, and a certain level of intimidation caused by her very efficient (and clearly experienced) disarming of the two Kryptonians at her feet, which would certainly keep any of Zod's other soldiers off her back until he gave another order. The ball was in her court now - there was no way in any hell that she would miss this shot if she decided to pull the trigger.

"Don't. Touch. Them," she growled menacingly, the blaster in her hand making Jaora's threat vividly clear.

Zod didn't shift his gaze from her at all as he simply raised one hand in an open palm - another signal to his men, one that clearly read 'wait, stand down, wait and be patient' - and the General replied to her warning in an annoyingly even tone, "What makes you believe that they will be harmed?"

Jaora paused at that - one of the downsides of Warrior breeding. Her genetics were given more to the carrying-out of thoughts and orders, not the articulation of them, so her interpretation of the supposedly dangerous situation was based more on feeling than facts - she was by nature a creature of instinct. Unfortunately, sometimes even instinct is blind.

She missed the moment when Zod's open, waiting palm signaling his men to stand down became two gauntleted fingers pointing straight at her. But his soldiers did not miss it, and immediately jumped to follow orders, one of them grabbing Jaora from behind while another took advantage of the distraction to knock the blaster from her grasp. Jaora, of course, reacted with utter fury and attempted to tear herself out of their grasp only to find her arms quickly and effectively pinned behind her while she was forced to the floor under the crushing weight of at least two full-grown male Kryptonians.

Normally ("normally", she reminded herself, emphasizing the fact that very few things could ever be considered "normal"), she would have easily broken free and tossed these soldiers aside like they were nothing. Though now, with her abnormal abilities suddenly vanished and her strong grasp on consciousness gradually becoming weaker, she could do nothing more than snap and buck and bite and generally make herself a very unpleasant prisoner. But her captors did not let up - Jaora was trapped with very little hope of escape.

"It's for their betterment - and your own," Zod assured her as two more of his soldiers stepped forward. One moved to drag Lois to her feet, pressing their blaster into the reporter's back in an unsubtle order to obey, and the other captured the limp Kal in a rough fireman's hold. Jaora could only watch as the captives were escorted off the bridge, her blood boiling at the sight of someone laying hands on her Boy Scout (because, fuck, damnit, she was just the smallest bit overprotective, and maybe even possessive of him) - though truly it was Lois who turned her anger into rage.

For the briefest of moments, the reporter's eyes met hers from across the room, and Jaora recognized a look in Lois' face that she had become all too familiar with growing up - mostly confusion, a decent amount of anxiety, and genuine, actual fear. That was what pissed Jaora off.

She had made a promise - she would not, could not, let anything happen to Lois (or Martha, for that matter, or Clark, she had quickly added). But now, pinned to the cold, bloodied floor of the alien starship threatening everything she knew, Jaora suddenly became aware of the painful reality of life.

Chances were, she would never be able to keep that promise.

Okay, explanation time! First of all, I'ma apologize for the very informal typing in this section as its copy-pasted from a text I sent to my beta last month while sleep-deprived, so it's more than a little bit of a tangent.

I'm mildly upset that MoS runtime wasn't longer for multiple reasons but primarily because Zod wasn't given the personality fleshing out that he deserved and the psychology behind all his reasons had to be reduced down to 'fierce' which is often interpreted as 'bad' when in reality he's a bit more 'fiercely protective'. Krypton had 14 pure genetic bloodlines/houses that were basically tribes of sorts, anyway each house has three main traits/values and depending on (a) which trait is strongest in a child and (b) what purpose the child was bred for determines their Guild and ultimately their job in Kryptonian society. So the child enters one of five Guilds, and the main ones you probs know of are Thinker (scientists and philosophers, example would be Jor-El and House of El is typically Thinker) and Warrior (soldiers and defenders, example would be Dru-Zod and Faora Hu-Ul). So each Guild has a purpose and when a child is born they are bred to fulfill that specific purpose (done by influencing their natural talents, eg. Thinkers are bred for creativity and outside-the-box thinking, whereas Warriors are bred for loyalty and being thorough). Thinker Guild Purpose is along the lines of 'to dispel ignorance' or 'to grow in knowledge' (I have it written down somewhere I just don't want to dig for it rn), Artisan guild is 'to inspire', and Warrior guild is 'to protect'. Long story short, originally Warriors were meant to be peacekeepers and defenders, not world-conquerors as one might think. Anyway, Zod couldn't really be considered a bad guy until the last maybe thirty seconds of his life if you realize that every action he takes is *to protect* his people. He literally says this in the movie word for word. His attack on the Council at the start is to remove the old eminences who do nothing and replace them with proactive leaders who will actually prevent Krypton's demise *to protect his people from extinction*. The same reason he sort of takes Kal-El captive is to get the Codex so he can continue the Kryptonian race and *protect his people from extinction*. For a good chunk of the movie, even Kal-El fell under Zod's umbrella of protection - yeah, Zod tried to take him captive multiple times, but Zod saw that he was doing it both for Kal-El's protection so he wouldn't be hurt by humans (remember Zod's only interaction with humanity is with a hostile military also trying to protect their planet) and for the protection of Krypton's people. Only when he loses all of his warriors does Zod actually turn 'bad', but he just lost what he was supposed to protect for the second time in his life and now suddenly has no reason to live. The goal of guaranteeing the survival/protection of another generation of Kryptonians (via Genesis Chamber and the Codex) was basically the only reason Zod kept hopelessly searching the galaxy for Kal-El when Krypton died, and had he not had that chance, chances are he and his warriors would have committed suicide when Krypton died. At the end of the movie, with nothing left to protect, Zod doesn't have that chance any more so his only solution is death. Now suicide in a Warrior culture is dishonorable ("a good death is it's own reward"), so why not get Kal-El to kill him? Then at least Zod died in battle, which to his culture is the best way to go. My proof of his desperation is the fact that Zod is a high ranking military officer with years of combat training vs smol farmboy who can't throw a punch, yet guess who dies. Plus Zod literally had his hands free when Kal killed him, and could've escaped if he wanted to, but didn't.

Tl:dr Zod wasn't exactly bad guy - just very protective and borderline suicidal.