I, Zod: The Journal of Private Zod (4-6) [Lit]

We all love General Zod from Superman II. Ruthless, arrogant, elegant, and awesomely powerful. But he wasn’t always a general. At some point, Zod had to be a fresh recruit, just starting out in the Kryptonian military. So once again, we present the continuing story of “I, Zod: The Journal of Private Zod.” For parts 1-3, click here.

6 Gree, 341 KC

Shortly after we arrived at the barracks, a high-ranking officer with an imposing figure entered the room. The lines glowing on the shoulder of his robe informed me that he was a sergeant. He introduced himself as Sergeant Roa-Ka and further stated, “As of this moment, your former life has ended. You are now members of the Kryptonian Army. From this point on, your body belongs to Krypton. Your mind belongs to Krypton. Your purpose in life for the duration of your military career shall be to live and die for Krypton. Over the next four weeks, I will tear your worthless bodies apart, piece by piece, and rebuild you into finely-tuned warriors worthy of defending this glorious planet. Are there any questions?”

I, of course, stepped forward and said to the sergeant, “I defy you. I am no mere soldier, but Zod, a man of destiny, a man who shall one day rule this worthless planet. Come to me, Roa-Ka. Kneel before Zod.”

Sergeant Roa-Ka came forward, but did not kneel as I expected. He jabbed me in the chest with a finger and snarled, “Well, Private Zod Man-of-Destiny, right now you do not rule this planet. Right now, you are a pathetic, scrawny, loud-mouthed private with profanity shaved into his head, and you need to learn some respect. Drop to the floor and give me fifty push-ups.”

I refused. Sergeant Roa-Ka ordered his men to escort me to the stockade, where I would spend twenty-six hours for my defiance. I write this inside the stockade. It is quite cold and I have not been fed for some time. When I am released, perhaps Zod will comply with rules and regulations until such time as he is in a position to command.

—

7 Gree, 341 KC

They issued us our military uniforms today. They seem highly illogical. No style at all. The uniform consists of an all-black outfit of thin cloth slit on the legs and arms. With no protective armor, I cannot imagine how the uniforms would fare in battle. I have brought my concerns to the attention of Sergeant Roa-Ka, but to no avail. I only pray we never face true combat in these uniforms.

However, I do find it a pleasant change of pace from the current Kryptonian fashion trend of clothing that glows under its own power. I found it quite annoying to have to keep changing my batteries every two hours.

—

10 Gree, 341 KC

Last night, I had a dream wherein I was master of all I surveyed. I stood on a podium surrounded by all sentient beings in the universe. At my command, they all knelt and swore their eternal loyalty to Zod. This pleased me. When I awoke, I felt great disappointment at the knowledge that this was only a dream. Yet I know that the dream was truly a prophecy. One day, I shall rule the universe. One day, all shall kneel before Zod.

I attempted to return to my slumber and experience the dream again. Instead, I dreamed that I stood upon the Kryptonian parade grounds without clothing. When I tried to run, a purple Nobac-wolf jumped onto my back and rode me through a field of icicles while clouds rained vanilla pudding onto me. I choose to believe that dream is not a prophecy, but the result of my overindulgence in the mess hall at supper.

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