Darkness answered light.
The universe trembled, caught between the warmth of rebirth and the chill of annihilation.
Superman floated in the silence of the endless void, golden light bleeding from his form like rivers of living fire. Around him, shattered fragments of suns drifted aimlessly — echoes of realities long gone.
But within the abyss ahead, something vast and ancient moved.
It was not matter, not energy, not consciousness. It was absence — the fundamental rejection of being.
The Void Beyond Creation had awakened.
---
Superman extended his awareness into the darkness, and instantly, he felt it —
a pull stronger than gravity, older than time.
Every photon, every particle of light strained against it, like a candle resisting a black hole. His cosmic senses reached through infinity, perceiving not a being, but an idea that devoured all other ideas.
> "So, the cycle repeats," the voice said — calm, cold, and without echo.
"Light rises, only to be consumed. Creation feeds me. You, child of the sun, should have stayed asleep."
The sound wasn't heard through air or thought — it simply was, vibrating across the bones of existence.
Superman's eyes burned brighter, gold deepening into molten white.
> "Ten million years ago, I watched you end entire realities. I watched gods fall silent. And I swore, if I ever awoke again, it would be for this moment."
He raised his hand, and the void around him shimmered — as if existence itself remembered how to breathe. Stars ignited where none had been. Waves of light rolled across infinite distances.
> "You speak of consumption," he said, voice resonating like thunder across eternity. "But this time, darkness will not feast."
---
The void responded with silence, then laughter — a sound like dying stars collapsing.
> "You misunderstand, Last Sun. I do not destroy. I erase. Even your defiance is meaningless once unmade."
Reality shattered like glass as the Void shifted, expanding infinitely. Entire dimensions folded inward. Universes flickered out of being. For every word it spoke, a thousand worlds ceased to exist.
Superman clenched his fist, and the collapsing dimensions froze. His aura extended outward, bathing the nothingness in light. The heat of ten million suns erupted from his being, stabilizing the fabric of existence for as far as perception could reach.
But he could feel it — the strain.
The Void was not an enemy to fight. It was the concept of oblivion itself.
Still, Superman's resolve did not falter.
He remembered the faces of those who once believed in him — Lois, his parents, his son, and the countless lives he had saved across galaxies. Those memories were not gone; they were alive in his light.
And that light — his will — would not yield.
---
> "You seek to erase me," he said, "but my name is carved into the foundation of existence. I am every heartbeat, every sunrise, every act of courage. You cannot unmake what was born from hope."
The void pulsed violently. Entire star clusters imploded in silence.
Superman closed his eyes, focusing. His awareness spread through time — past, present, and the countless futures yet to come. He saw every version of himself: the young farm boy from Kansas, the warrior who fought gods, the guardian who watched galaxies bloom and fade.
He gathered them — every fragment of his identity, every echo across timelines — and merged them into one.
The void trembled.
> "Impossible," it whispered. "You transcend causality itself."
Superman's aura flared brighter, breaking through the darkness. His voice echoed across all realities simultaneously:
> "I am not transcending… I am remembering."
The entire Omniverse blazed with light. Forgotten dimensions reappeared. Lost souls returned as whispers of energy. Even the laws of physics seemed to bend toward his will.
Yet, at the edge of that brilliance, the Void remained — untouched, unfazed.
For all his might, Superman realized something terrifying: the darkness did not oppose him. It defined him.
Without the Void, there could be no light. Without the end, there could be no beginning.
And that was the truth he had never confronted.
---
> "You see it now," said the voice, its tone shifting from mockery to revelation. "We are not enemies. You are the pulse that I silence. I am the silence that gives your pulse meaning. Together, we are balance."
Superman floated motionless, his light dimming slightly as realization dawned.
The Void wasn't merely destruction — it was equilibrium. It was the other half of creation itself.
But equilibrium or not, he could not let it consume everything again.
Not this time.
> "Balance is necessary," he admitted quietly. "But harmony is earned, not taken. You bring only oblivion. I bring life. And as long as a single spark exists—"
His voice rose, echoing through the cosmic expanse.
> "—I will burn!"
He thrust both hands forward, unleashing a wave of pure energy — the light of all creation condensed into one moment.
It tore through the darkness, fracturing it, scattering shards of void across infinite space.
The universe screamed as both forces collided — light and nothingness entwined in a war that transcended time.
Every second of their clash rewrote the laws of existence.
The stars returned. Then vanished.
Worlds lived entire lifetimes in a heartbeat.
Creation itself gasped for air.
And through it all, Superman stood unwavering — the Last Sun defying the infinite night.
---
When the explosion faded, only silence remained.
Superman floated, exhausted yet radiant, surrounded by fragments of reborn universes. The Void was gone — but not defeated. Its echo lingered, whispering softly through the emptiness.
> "You cannot destroy what must exist, child of light. I will return when your flame dims."
Superman closed his eyes.
> "Then I will never let it fade."
He turned toward the horizon of existence, where the first stars of a new dawn began to form. His aura softened, and for the first time in eons, he smiled.
The war was not over — but life had won one more day.
And as the cosmos took its first breath of renewal, the Last Sun burned brighter than ever before.
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