"BOSS, congratulations—you're now the dream man of every woman in America," Urd remarked as she placed a file on Zod's desk.
Zod glanced up, his eyes catching the sharp professionalism in Urd's demeanor. The form-fitting pencil skirt hugged her curves, while her long, sleek legs seemed to glow under the soft light. She was as meticulous as ever.
Urd's tone, though neutral, carried an unspoken question. "So, are you going to tell me why you suddenly put on that War Machine and ran out there to play superhero?"
Zod leaned back in his chair, smiling faintly. "Don't worry, Urd. I'm not putting my life on the line for nothing."
Urd's lips twitched, but she held back the words she wanted to say. Instead, she sighed, "I just don't want to have to look for a new boss."
Five months later, Zod had moved his headquarters to Los Angeles after completing construction on a new branch. Washington, D.C., however, was not abandoned—it now functioned as a secondary base for Blade Technology Industries. Although the company didn't have a large workforce, it was expanding in a new direction.
The timing couldn't have been better. Stark Industries had been in decline ever since Tony Stark's mysterious disappearance, with stocks plummeting. Despite Obadiah Stane's desperate attempts to stabilize the company, he couldn't stop the downward spiral. Many of Stark's top weapons engineers began jumping ship, and Blade Technology Industries was there to poach them.
While Obadiah managed to keep a small group of loyal employees by offering salary raises and appealing to their sense of loyalty, it wasn't enough. Even without Tony Stark, the company could still rely on its existing weapons patents to make money, but the damage had been done.
With the influx of talent from Stark Industries and the durable weapons designed by Anton and Ivan Vanko, Blade Technology quickly gained a foothold in the conventional weapons market, competing head-to-head with other military contractors like Hanmer Industries.
As for Justin Hammer, his company was in serious trouble. With both Blade and Stark Industries grabbing up the lion's share of contracts, Hanmer was left scrambling for scraps. Zod wasn't particularly fond of Hammer's workforce, but he was definitely interested in his production lines. However, Justin wasn't desperate enough yet to sell. Zod knew it was only a matter of time.
Meanwhile, Wanda and Pietro Maximoff—now living in the United States—found themselves adjusting to a very different life from what they had known in Sokovia. While Washington, D.C., wasn't as glamorous as New York, it was still worlds apart from their war-torn homeland. Zod had even enrolled them in private schools, something few in Sokovia could even dream of.
In America, public schools were known for their lax standards, leaving many citizens undereducated. The real learning happened in elite private schools, a tool for widening the gap between the wealthy and the poor. Wanda, mature beyond her years, understood that this new life was a rare opportunity. However, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that nothing in life came without a price. What would Zod expect in return for all of this?
Pietro, on the other hand, had quickly embraced the luxuries of big-city living. He had taken up gaming, clubbing, and even drag racing through the streets of Washington, D.C., much to Wanda's dismay.
One afternoon at school, Wanda overheard her classmates excitedly discussing the Dark Knight and Zodhis. Curious, she joined the conversation and learned that Zod had recently helped the Brooklyn police take down a group of bank robbers. Her classmates, many of them wealthy or from upper-middle-class families, were utterly enthralled by Zod's heroics.
Later that day, Wanda picked up a copy of Planet Daily on her way home. The front-page headline read: "Super Genius and Superhero of the New Century—The Dark Knight."
The high-definition image of Zod in his War Machine armor dominated the cover. The article, while exaggerated, had quickly catapulted Planet Daily to rival papers like the Clarion Daily and Daily News. Zod's rise to superhero status had become the hottest topic in the country.
Wanda traced her fingers over the image of Zod in his armor, feeling a strange sense of connection. In that moment, she made a decision.
In his new Los Angeles lab, Zod stood before his latest creation, the Dark Knight Armor. The lab was minimalistic—Zod had opted for function over form, equipping the entrance with a strength tester that required a hundred tons of pressure just to open the alloy door.
The armor itself was a masterpiece. A flowing black cape trailed behind it, purely for aesthetics, as Zod had no need for cloak tactics. However, the cape wasn't just for show. With a sly grin, Zod activated the Raider Floating Artillery System, which he had secretly integrated into the design.
The cape transformed, splitting into eight floating blades that hovered behind him like silent sentinels. When not in use, they reattached to the back of the armor as propellers. When needed, Zod could control them telepathically, unleashing devastating plasma cannons. The floating cannons had two modes: a continuous plasma barrage capable of ten hours of sustained fire, or a high-frequency blade mode for close-quarters combat.
In the latter mode, the blades became an extension of Zod's mind, each one operating as if it were an independent sword. With eight floating blades and two swords in his hands, Zod could easily execute a ten-sword style—a feat that only his superhuman brain could coordinate.
No one else could pull it off.
Zod smiled to himself. The world had seen only the beginning of what the Dark Knight could do.