Beyond the veil of light, where no star dared to burn, a crack formed in the silence. It was not a sound—it was the absence of one.
A shadow slithered out from the wound in reality, growing larger, deeper, hungrier.
The Oblivion Entity had awakened.
Its form was neither matter nor energy. It was pure anti-existence, the idea that nothing should ever have been. It whispered in the dark language of forgotten gods, and as it spoke, galaxies shivered into dust.
> "Light has grown arrogant," it murmured. "It forgets that every beginning owes its birth to me."
From the fragments of dying universes, shapes emerged—dark avatars, the Echoes of Oblivion, each born from a fallen sun's corpse. Their eyes gleamed with cold hatred as they bent before their master.
> "Find him," the Entity commanded. "The one who carries the Absolute Core within his soul. He must be unmade."
The shadows dispersed across creation like venom through blood.
---
Meanwhile, in the realm between stars, Superman hovered, his eyes closed. The energy of the Absolute Core still coursed through him, reshaping his perception of reality.
He could hear the hum of gravity, the whispers of time, the faint songs of newborn stars. He could see every soul flickering like candlelight across infinite worlds.
But then, the melody changed.
A discordant vibration rippled through the symphony of creation.
Darkness.
It spread like ink through glass—silent yet absolute. Worlds dimmed, constellations twisted, and the cosmic song fell out of tune. Superman's eyes snapped open.
> "No…" he whispered. "It's begun."
His senses stretched beyond dimensions, tracing the disturbance. It wasn't just the absence of light—it was the devouring of meaning itself. Entire universes were vanishing as if they'd never existed.
He turned toward the void. The starlight bent around him, forming a luminous halo as he moved—each motion bending spacetime like waves around a god.
---
When he arrived, the scene before him was devastation.
A galaxy hung on the brink of erasure. Planets crumbled into shadow, stars screamed as their light was consumed by the black tendrils of Oblivion's influence. And at its heart stood an Echo, shaped like a colossal humanoid formed entirely of darkness.
Its voice rolled through the void like a storm:
> "You carry stolen fire, Kryptonian. The Core's power was never meant for a mortal soul."
Superman faced it calmly. His aura flared golden-white, illuminating the abyss.
> "Then why was I chosen?"
> "Chosen? You were tempted. The Core seeks hosts to burn. You are no savior—you are its next victim."
The creature lunged.
Its fist struck like a collapsing dimension—but Superman met it head-on. The impact ignited a cosmic shockwave that shattered light-years of empty space. Energy and darkness clashed, their collision birthing new matter, new time, new universes.
Superman drove the Echo back, his voice echoing across infinity:
> "If creation burns through me, then so be it. I'll burn bright enough for all existence to see."
The Echo roared, swinging again. This time Superman vanished, reappearing behind it faster than causality could register. He struck once—clean, precise. The Echo disintegrated into fragments of nothingness.
But as it faded, its laughter lingered.
> "You cannot fight the dark forever, Kal-El. Even light must cast a shadow."
---
Superman stood alone amid the wreckage. The stars slowly reignited around him, reborn from his presence. But inside, he could feel it—the taint of Oblivion.
The darkness wasn't just outside—it was searching for a place within him.
He clenched his fists, forcing the golden glow to intensify. His energy purged the corruption for now, but he knew it was only temporary.
There was no running from this.
If Oblivion truly was the primal opposite of creation, then this was not a war of power. It was a war of truth.
---
Across the horizon of reality, the Entity itself began to manifest—its size dwarfing galaxies, its presence bending existence to its will. It spoke, and the words themselves cracked the foundation of space-time.
> "I am the silence before the first heartbeat. I am the peace after the last scream. You cannot destroy me, for I am what remains when all else is gone."
Superman stared into the abyss. For the first time since his rebirth, he felt the faint whisper of something close to fear.
> "Maybe I can't destroy you," he said quietly, "but I can outshine you."
The Entity smiled—if a void could smile.
> "Then let us see whose eternity burns longer."
---
Superman raised his hands. Light erupted, spilling across universes like dawn after the longest night. The glow of one million suns flared through his veins, his voice resonating with the song of creation itself.
> "For every life, for every dream, for every dawn yet to come—"
He launched forward.
The collision between Light and Oblivion tore the multiverse open. The shockwave echoed through realities, rewriting the laws of existence as they fought—not for victory, but for definition.
Darkness devoured. Light created.
Both eternal. Both absolute.
---
In that endless clash, Superman realized something profound—this was not about defeating darkness. It was about understanding it. Oblivion was not evil; it was inevitable. The counterpart of his own light.
The battle was not destruction. It was balance.
And yet, deep inside, he vowed:
> "If balance must exist… I'll make sure hope stands at its center."
---