Authors Note-
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Zod's unease deepened as he witnessed Clark's unsettling reaction. Wasting no time, he established a connection with the two soldiers he sent to the farm. But instead of the expected report of success, a cacophony of sounds assaulted him – screams, barks, and a woman's furious tirade.
"General, help!" one warrior cried desperately, a stark contrast to his earlier arrogance.
"We encountered a crazy woman and a rabid dog! They're... ferocious! Help!"
Overlapping the frantic pleas came a fierce feminine voice laced with anger.
" You dare cause trouble here!" it echoed.
"You dare destroy my farm!"
A chilling threat followed, "You want to molest me!"
Zod's confusion grew. What was happening? Could a mere dog and woman be maltreating a mighty Kryptonian warrior? Earthlings – this barbaric race – must be held accountable for such barbarity! When they returned, severe punishment awaited them.
Little did Zod know, the two warriors he envisioned punishing were experiencing the ultimate humiliation. Their initial mission – a simple capture of Earthlings – had morphed into a harrowing nightmare.
Their intel grossly underestimated Earth's inhabitants. Filled with bravado, they'd landed their ship at the farm, ready to claim their prize.
Equipped with advanced technology, they meticulously scanned the farm, locating a single woman. Here it was, their target. Ignoring her polite request that they leave, one warrior charged forward, attempting to grab her chest with a crude display of dominance.
This act ignited a fiery rage within the woman. Her swift movements left them speechless. Black mist billowed around her arms, morphing into razor-sharp claws. With a ferocious snarl, she lashed out, leaving a dark, corrosive mark on the warrior's armor. Fear gripped them, forcing a hasty retreat.
Seeing his comrade in distress, the other warrior lunged forward, attempting a coordinated attack. However, a roar shattered their plan, and a seemingly ordinary dog, barely half a meter tall moments before, had undergone a shocking metamorphosis.
Growing to a colossal two meters, it let out a bloodcurdling growl before sinking its teeth into the warrior's arm. A single flick of its head sent him flying, screams echoing through the air.
The "crazy woman" and "rabid dog" were none other than Tina and Simba. Simba continued his relentless assault, tearing and biting at the warrior's armor with ferocious abandon. The once-proud Kryptonian warrior roared in pain, his black armor failing to protect him from the savage onslaught.
The situation for the Kryptonian warriors was dire. Both sported mangled armor and scarred bodies, mirroring their screams in a painful duet. Despite their strength, the injuries weren't life-threatening. Seizing an opportunity, they used the farm's water tower as cover, hindering their pursuers, before making a desperate dash toward their ship.
However, Tina and Simba could not let these unwelcome guests leave so soon. As the warriors neared their escape pod, Simba unleashed a powerful suction force, dragging them back. Tina, ever the opportunist, materialized her razor-sharp claws, unleashing a flurry of attacks that tore into the warriors' flesh. Her unrelenting dark magic fueled the assault, her furious curses a chilling symphony.
While the wounds weren't fatal, Tina's dark magic was uniquely potent. Its purity caused a horrifying phenomenon. The scars, though shallow, wouldn't bleed, instead eroding at an alarming rate. This amplified the pain tenfold, akin to the legendary Ling Chi, the torture of a thousand cuts. Even Iron Man wouldn't have endured such agony. No wonder they cried out to General Zod in such desperation.
Unfortunately for them, Zod was powerless to help. He barely managed to hold his own against Superman. However, with unexpected mercy, Tina deliberately weakened Simba's grip, allowing the warriors to escape to their ship and flee at breakneck speed.
News of the failed mission reached General Zod quickly. His meticulously crafted plan lay in ruins. Glowering at Superman, he accused, "You knew I'd attack the farm, didn't you? You set a trap!"
Clark rolled his eyes. "Buddy, give yourself some credit—no trap here, just pure bad luck. You encountered a terrifying woman on the farm – someone I wouldn't even mess with. Consider yourselves lucky she didn't kill you on the spot. Otherwise, your little errand boys wouldn't have made it back."
Zod rose with difficulty, joining Faora and limping towards the spaceship. Clark made no move to stop them. As Zod was about to board, he turned, a defiant glint in his eyes. "This time is yours, Superman. But I won't give up. I'll be back."
With years of military experience, he had instilled resilience in General Zod. He understood the ebb and flow of war—victory and defeat were the flip sides of the same coin. A strategic retreat was the wisest course since he couldn't force Superman's cooperation. He'd return but with a better plan.
Clark stared back, his expression stern. "I don't care if you return, Zod. Just remember – stay in line. Don't you dare hurt anyone? That's my bottom line."
General Zod offered a curt nod, acknowledging Clark's warning. Turning without a word, he boarded the ship. As it vanished into the sky, Clark felt relief wash over him. He honestly didn't relish these confrontations with Zod and his people. After all, they were the last of his kind, and a part of him couldn't be entirely ruthless.
The crisis seemingly averted, Clark prepared to depart. But just then, a voice cut through the quiet. "Clark, you rotten little scoundrel! Didn't you say you were off to some cosmic sunbathing? What was this Hawaiian vacation all about? If not for this unexpected alien fracas, I might never have known! Lying to me, have you no shame?"
Clark's face contorted into a grimace. Here it comes, he thought, the worst possible witness – a feisty older woman. And what a joke that was! This "old woman," Wonder Woman, was a demigod with millennia of experience. Compared to her, Clark, with his measly few decades, was practically a child.
"Ahem! Mishap, complete mishap," he stammered, forcing a smile.
"Originally, cosmic training it was! But then, on my way there, I remembered something dear old Dad used to say: all work and no play makes a dull Kryptonian, right? So, I took a detour. Imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon this alien invasion! Thankfully, it all worked out. How about a peace offering, then? Dinner's on me?"
A flicker of surprise crossed Diana's face. "Well, this is a novelty," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Dinner, you say? Don't tell me you've finally developed an interest in this 'old lady'? Let me warn you, youngster, fresh meat isn't on the menu."
Clark gritted his teeth, the urge to retort a witty remark rising in his throat. He squashed it down with a sigh. "Look, don't get ahead of yourself," he said, rolling his eyes for emphasis. "The thought never crossed my mind. I have zero interest in, well, someone hundreds of years old and prone to violence."
Wonder Woman's expression darkened. Age and her "violent tendencies" were two buttons no one should push. Her jaw clenched. "Clark," she growled, a dangerous edge to her voice, "are you courting death?"
A cold sweat prickled Clark's skin. He'd crossed a line. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on!" he interjected, backtracking hastily. "Easy there, I was just kidding! You know, lightening the mood? The dinner invitation was mostly to express my gratitude. Remember all those training sessions where you shared your combat experience? That helped tremendously today. Facing Zod and his crew felt like a breeze compared to what you put me through. All thanks to you. So, dinner as a thank you?"
Diana snorted, but the anger in her eyes simmered down a notch. "A simple meal hardly makes up for my brutal training methods, does it?" she grumbled. "Why not three times, though?"
"No problem at all," Clark said quickly, eager to appease her.
"Three times, ten times, whatever it takes."
"Good. Speaking of which," Wonder Woman continued, a hint of a playful glint in her eyes, "your chef's skills are awe-inspiring. I could get used to that kind of cooking."
Of course, it wasn't any ordinary chef, Clark smirked to himself. This was a mutant with a heightened sense of taste, which, after years of dedicated practice, had become a world-renowned culinary master. This "god-level chef" occasionally worked at high-end restaurants, whipping dishes that cost millions and required months of advanced reservations. For Clark, however, it was simply a matter of walking into the kitchen and requesting a meal.
Relief washed over Clark as Wonder Woman agreed. He'd finally managed to appease the volatile Amazon. Just as they were about to leave, a rumble echoed in the distance. Several armored vehicles sped towards them, carrying Nick Fury and his team, arriving fashionably late after the battle had concluded.
"Looks like we have some post-invasion paperwork to deal with," Clark sighed.
He greeted Nick Fury, and the two engaged in a brief conversation. With Wonder Woman by his side, Clark confidently negotiated some agreements, officially ending this eventful day.