Zod had built a close bond with many superheroes. As someone who rose from nothing, he had become an icon among American entrepreneurs, idolized by countless others. While a few superheroes had been swayed by the lure of wealth and abandoned the Superheroes Association, the majority remained loyal to it, bound by Zod's leadership.
The U.S., struggling to contain the increasing superpowered threats, began exploring new tactics. Super villains, some enhanced by powers and others by advanced equipment, were being apprehended with surgically implanted bombs to enforce compliance. To keep these villains motivated and prevent rebellion, the government dangled the possibility of freedom, promising that enough "merits" would grant them official roles, complete with benefits and high pay. Politicians called it a "merit system," though the villains had little choice but to believe it.
Elsewhere, a group of armed terrorists sprayed bullets wildly, each one splintering or ricocheting off Zod's figure, clad in his formidable Dark Knight armor. With a swift punch, he collapsed the chest of one assailant, then turned toward a jeep-mounted NSV heavy machine gun that started firing with terrifying force. Armor-piercing and incendiary rounds tore through the air at nearly 800 rounds per minute, the impact enough to level most hardened fortifications.
But Zod strode through the hail of bullets, his armor absorbing the impacts without slowing him down. His goggles glowed with an intense red beam—a modified thermal vision with reflective eyepieces designed to amplify heat energy a billion-fold. With a gaze, he melted the jeep into slag, incinerating the terrorists atop it.
After the carnage, he looked straight into a surveillance camera. "I'll be watching you from the shadows," he declared.
The terrorist commander back at headquarters, a man named Zandalar, cursed loudly, slamming his fist on the table. Leader of a powerful faction based in Benghazi, Libya, Zandalar and his tribe had been terrorizing the region for years, practically replacing the local government with brutal control. Zandalar ruled from a lavish fortress, enjoying his dominance while his followers enforced their will upon the people.
Lately, however, his operations had been under siege. Superheroes, newly empowered by Zod, had turned their sights on criminal enterprises like his. Zod knew better than to send superheroes directly against powerful governments or corporations, which would end badly. Instead, he had identified an easy target: international terrorism.
In theory, no one could object to a war on terror; it was universally seen as a righteous cause. Even if these terrorist cells had covert support from certain powerful nations, those backers wouldn't dare voice it openly. If they attempted covert retaliation, Zod was prepared.
The terrorists' downfall, however, sparked mixed reactions among local civilians. They'd grown accustomed to the grim cycle: a hero would eliminate the current oppressors, but eventually, another group of terrorists would return, exacting brutal revenge on the people for any perceived support of "righteous" outsiders. This pattern had left them distrustful, even resentful, of those who claimed to help, knowing it often brought harsher suffering later on.
Zod was well aware of this. He knew that to genuinely liberate these people, he needed to obliterate the root cause—the terrorists themselves—so they couldn't resurface to terrorize civilians again.
As he left the battlefield, his resolve hardened. "Time to address the Zandalar tribe once and for all."
Back at the Superheroes Association headquarters, Zod presented his plan to launch a strike on Zandalar's faction in Benghazi. Not everyone was on board.
"Zod, I get that you're eager to act, but we're already under intense scrutiny," Tony Stark interjected. His tone was measured, mature. "Our organization's very existence is technically outside the law, and crossing international borders could bring serious repercussions." Stark's gaze was level. He knew Zod's ambitions but was equally aware of the thin line they walked, especially with government eyes on them.
Zod listened, his expression unwavering. He understood Stark's concerns—but the stakes, as he saw it, were too high to stand down.