Who Kills Superman In The Death Of Superman?

After catching my supposedly frigid wife, Emmy Winslow, aroused by our household robot butler, I swallowed my disgust and sent the machine to a destruction facility. I never expected that decision to cost her life. On the way to chase after the robot, Emmy was involved in a horrific car accident and died at the scene. From that day on, I became notorious in our social circle as the jealous husband who drove his wife to her death. Five years passed. Night after night, I tortured myself by wondering if she would still be alive had I not been so petty over a machine. Until today, while discussing business at a private club, I passed a half-open VIP suite and heard one of Emmy's closest friends teasing her. "Emmy, how much longer are you planning to keep up this fake-death act?" A familiar voice answered, one I could never mistake, that was tinged with indulgence and amusement. "As soon as Corbin Ellery's heart condition is cured. Back then, if Grayson hadn't insisted on sending the butler to the destruction plant, Corbin wouldn't have needed to pretend his system malfunctioned. And I wouldn't have had to fake my death to help him disappear completely." Another friend clicked her tongue. "Still, nobody expected you to go this far. Having Corbin wear a custom synthetic skin suit and pose as a robot butler right under your husband's nose all those years? That's insane." Fake death? Corbin? The blood drained from my face. The woman I had mourned for five years was alive. And the robot that had stirred her desire had never been a robot at all. It was my closest friend. A passing server accidentally slammed into me, sending a tray crashing to the floor. The conversation inside stopped instantly. Emmy turned toward the doorway, and our eyes met.

At our first anniversary celebration, my wife publicly announced that she was divorcing me to marry her true love. My past mission targets coldly watched me, thinking I would cause a ruckus and trouble Ivan Lowe like I always had. However, I merely walked over to a nearby lake and jumped into it. Unbeknownst to them, Serena Gale was my very last mission target. If I failed, I was supposed to go home. So, why did they only begin to regret their choices after I finally died?

In the Kingdom of Avelune, no one dies without warning. Every soul is born beneath a glowing number, counting down the exact day death will come. Elara Veyne has no number at all. She's spent her life feared for it, until she locks eyes with a stranger in the rain who shouldn't be standing at all. His number reads zero. He's breathing anyway. And when he looks at her, it isn't with fear. It's with recognition. His name is Kael Draven. The kingdom calls him the Black Villain, a man rumored to have killed thousands and to be impossible to kill himself. He tells her she's late, as if she was always meant to arrive. He knows her name before she speaks it. Details about her life no stranger could know. Every instinct tells Elara to run. But Kael keeps finding her. Keeps saving her from dangers he predicts before they happen. And the longer she stays near him, the more the world unravels: a woman who dies and wakes the next morning with no memory of it, a painting centuries old bearing both their faces exactly as they look now, dreams of a golden room she's certain she's never seen and somehow knows by heart. Piece by piece, the truth surfaces. Elara has lived this life before. Died in it, over and over, in ways she cannot remember and Kael cannot forget. Behind his violence is a man who has spent three centuries choosing to love her again, every time the world takes her from him. Now something ancient is waking, and it has decided they are both mistakes to correct. Elara is the reason the world keeps breaking. Stopping it might mean losing the one person who has never let her go.

For a thousand years, the Night Empire has prospered under the rule of the feared Vampire King, Lucien Draven. To preserve the balance between life and death, every new king must perform the Crimson Vow during the Blood Eclipse, a sacred ritual meant to bind him to his destined Vampire Queen. But this time, the ritual goes terribly wrong. Instead of summoning a vampire bride, Lucien accidentally binds himself to Death herself, the immortal guardian who has guided every soul into the afterlife since the beginning of creation. Their impossible marriage shatters the natural order. Souls stop crossing into the afterlife. The dead refuse to stay buried. Ancient monsters imprisoned beyond the Veil begin to awaken, sensing that Death can no longer fulfill her duty. As vampire nobles plot to overthrow their mysterious new queen and kingdoms descend into chaos, Lucien discovers the woman beneath the legend. Death is not cold or cruel. She is lonely, compassionate, and exhausted by an eternity of watching every love story end. For the first time in existence, Death is forced to choose between duty and desire. If she remains Queen, the world may perish. If she leaves, she must take the soul of the man she has fallen in love with.

A mysterious girl, known to be heartlessly cold, with a gun in her hand. Two criminals on the tip of her gunpoint, shivering and begging her for mercy, who used to be proud of their tremendous power. A secretive guy who fell in love with that girl and trusted her blindly, without knowing who she was. A child in the middle of the chaos to be protected and kept away from the fire of revenge. And a shadow secretly controlling the whole game and playing with their lives. The pawns are chosen and the war has begun. They're all trapped in this maze of secrets and revenge, holding each other at gunpoints. The maze gets more twisted with each step they take and the only thing that can get them out of there... is Death.

I have the ability to see how people will die. The day my divorce is finalized, I'm hit by an electric scooter and sent flying. When I wake up, I see a line of text above the nurse's head. It reads, "27 years old. Breast cancer in eight years." I pick up my phone. The first name in my contacts is my ex-wife, Caroline Meyer. After a moment's hesitation, I open her social media. Her latest post shows her and her new boyfriend vacationing in Marencia, captioned, "Forever starts with you." The location tag says it was posted three hours ago. We only finalized our divorce the day before. Later, I get a voice message from my daughter. "Daddy, Mommy says I can't go to her new house anymore. Her boyfriend doesn't like kids." I clutch my phone and head out to pick her up, only to run into Caroline's father, John Meyer, outside the apartment building. Above his head, the words read, "62 years old. Carbon monoxide poisoning in three months." The moment John sees me, he starts yelling. "What a loser! My daughter should've divorced you years ago! Her new boyfriend is young, handsome, and owns three houses. What do you have?" I glance at the words above his head, then slowly delete the warning text message I'd already typed out. After that, I take my daughter's hand and say, "Come on. I'm taking you out for burgers."