The Golden Tyrant: Superman’s Omniversal Conquest

The void between multiverses was silent, yet it pulsed with a presence older than time itself.

Here, beyond the boundaries of mortal perception, the rules of existence bent and twisted into something incomprehensible to lesser beings.

But for The Golden God, this was not unfamiliar.

He had ventured into these realms before, and tonight, he was here for someone who mattered more than even the concept of life itself.

Death of the Endless. His lover. His wife.

The eternal constant in a universe filled with chaos.

She was not in any specific place—Death never was.

She was everywhere and nowhere, tending to souls passing through the veil, whispering comfort to the lost, guiding the forgotten.

But Kal had always been able to find her. Perhaps because she allowed him to or there is something else.

He stepped forward, his presence a radiant contrast to the quiet hush of oblivion.

His cape barely moved in the absence of wind, his piercing blue eyes searching for her.

He did not call out—he didn't need to. She already knew he was here.

And then, she appeared.

A slender figure, clad in simple black, the Ankh around her neck glowing with faint energy.

Her pale skin was luminous, her deep, endless eyes filled with a warmth that defied the cold finality of her domain.

She wasn't intimidating, nor did she try to be.

Instead, she exuded a casual grace, a quiet power that made even the most terrifying gods humble in her presence.

"Kal," she greeted, her voice soft but carrying across the void like a melody written into the very fabric of existence.

"Death," he said, his lips curling into a rare, boyish smile as he stepped closer. "Or should I say... my love?"

She chuckled, tilting her head, the playful motion causing a strand of jet-black hair to fall across her face.

"Oh? Now you remember I'm your love? I don't know, big guy."

"You seem pretty busy lately, collecting every beautiful woman in existence like they're trading cards."

Kal laughed, a deep, genuine sound that resonated through the emptiness.

"Can you blame me? I have a weakness for beauty, power... and especially for women who make the concept of existence itself look small in comparison."

Death smirked, crossing her arms as she studied him.

"Flattery? Is that how you're planning to convince me to leave my work behind and come to your gathering?"

Kal took another step closer, his eyes locked onto hers with a rare intensity.

"No. I came to remind you that you don't always have to be the one carrying the weight of the omniverse alone. Just like you remind me of the same, every time I forget."

Her expression softened.

That was the thing about Kal. He was not just a god among men, not just a force of nature who could shake the Omniverse.

He understood people.

He understood her.

And that, more than any feat of strength or power, was why she had fallen for him.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" she muttered, shaking her head with amusement.

Kal reached out, gently brushing his fingers along her cheek, feeling the cool, ethereal softness of her skin.

"And yet, you love me anyway."

Death let out a breathless laugh, her dark eyes flickering with something profound.

"Yeah, I do."

There was no hesitation as he pulled her into his arms.

Their lips met—not in desperation, not in rushed passion, but in something deeper.

Something eternal.

At first, it was soft, almost reverent, as if they were simply relishing the moment of being together again.

But as seconds passed, the need between them grew, simmering into something more intense.

Kal tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her against him, feeling the cool silk of her form-fitting black attire press against the warmth of his own body.

Death responded in kind, her hands sliding up his chest, fingers curling around the fabric of his suit.

Her lips moved with his, slow yet deliberate, savoring the taste of him, the sheer life he radiated.

And then, as if a dam had broken, the kiss deepened.

Kal tilted his head, parting his lips to grant her access.

Their tongues met, a slow, tantalizing dance at first—Death's cool and teasing, Kal's warm and dominating.

She let out a soft hum of approval as his arms encircled her more tightly, one hand sliding up to cup the back of her neck, fingers threading through her raven-black hair.

Her own movements became bolder, her nails grazing lightly against the nape of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine.

Their tongues battled for dominance, neither willing to yield easily.

Death, despite her ethereal nature, was not one to submit without challenge, and Kal, ever the Man of Steel, met her with equal fervor.

His grip on her waist tightened, pressing her soft boobs against his chest, feeling every curve of her slender waist.

The air around them crackled with energy, the contrast of his boundless vitality and her endless serenity intertwining like the very fabric of the multiverse itself.

She nipped at his lower lip, a playful, almost taunting gesture that made Kal growl low in his throat, his own lips seeking hers again with renewed urgency.

He responded in kind, deepening the kiss further, their mouths molding together perfectly, the heat between them undeniable.

For a being who had seen the end of all things, who had walked alongside the dying and comforted those at their final moments, Death found herself completely alive in his arms.

She could feel the pulse of his heart hammering beneath her fingers, his breath mingling with hers, his desire unhidden.

When they finally pulled away, her lips were swollen, her breath uneven.

Kal rested his forehead against hers, his own breathing slightly heavier than usual.

She smirked, her voice huskier than before. "If you keep kissing me like that, Kal, we might never make it to your little gathering."

Kal chuckled, his fingers brushing against her cheek. "Then maybe I should keep going."

Death let out a breathless laugh, her dark eyes flickering with something profound. "You're impossible to change."

He smirked. "And yet, you love me anyway."

She sighed dramatically but leaned into him, her fingers tracing slow patterns on his chest. "Yeah, I do."

Hand in hand, Superman and Death of the Endless vanished from the void, leaving behind only silence.