Zamasu Death

An underwater volcano has been detected showing unusual activity, with the potential to erupt at any moment. Evacuations in the surrounding sea area have already begun. My husband, Ethan Gibson, boarded a lifeboat with his true love, Aria York, leaving me—his pregnant wife—behind. Not only that, he scolded me for being jealous at the worst possible time. "Aria can't swim. I have to take her first. What more do you want? I left the life jacket for you—isn't that enough?" "I'm pregnant… I'm scared…" I tried to plead. "Enough! Wendy, what's wrong with you? Why do you always have to be so dramatic?" That night, I was still nowhere to be found. Furious, he sent me a message: [Wendy! Where the hell are you? Do you have to take things this far?] [I'm telling you; I'm not coming to look for you. If you come back now, I'll act like this never happened. But if you don't, then don't bother coming back—ever!] However, Ethan… I couldn't come back anymore.

On the fateful day my asthma struck, Lucas was with his first love, Ariana, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing on the horizon.  He clutched my life-saving medicine, a lifeline that would soon slip through his fingers.  As I lay trapped in the shadows, I witnessed his desperation, his frantic calls echoing in the void when he discovered the shocking news of my pregnancy.  In that moment, everything changed. From that day forward, he became the guardian at my grave, a silent testament to a love that transcended even death.

The day Alpha Marcus and I marked each other, his first love, Cecilia, threw herself off a cliff into a ravine overgrown with wolfsbane. The pack searched for three full days and nights before they found her, barely clinging to life. She was once the most spirited she-wolf in our pack, but the fall cost her a leg and the ability to bear pups. I grieved for the beautiful life that had been ruined, and I blamed myself for not seeing how fragile she'd become. Marcus comforted me gently. "Elena, this wasn't your fault. Cecilia made her own choice. You did everything you could. Don't beat yourself up." Later, not long after our pup, Rylan, turned five, a sudden illness tore through him, and he died in my arms. Night after night, Marcus held me, wiping away my tears. "Don't be sad, Elena," he would murmur. "We'll have other children." I had always believed my mate was the most considerate, most protective Alpha in the entire world. Until the day I overheard him speaking with his Beta, Adrin. "Alpha, the dosage of wolfsbane we gave Rylan was perfect—just as you ordered. It looked like a genetic defect. No one will ever suspect." "It's been so long. Don't you think it's time to forgive the Luna?" "What's one pup compared to what Cecilia lost? She lost a leg, her future as a mother. Everything."

Because my father's childhood sweetheart's daughter was accidentally burned, my father was angry and locked me in the fire house where werewolf criminals were punished. The Beta of the pack, my father, looked at me with disgust written all over his face: "I don't have such a cruel daughter. You'll stay here and reflect on what you've done." I begged loudly for mercy, admitted my mistake, pleading for him to let me out. All I got in return was his merciless command. "Unless she's dead, no one is to release her." The fire house stood isolated at the edge of the territory. No matter how much I screamed for help, no one could hear me. He assigned the housekeeper to set the room to spray fire every 2 hours. The burns were excruciating, my werewolf healing barely keeping me alive between sessions. Ten days later, he finally remembered he had a daughter and decided to let me out. But what he didn't know was that I had already died in that fire house, never to wake again.

Seven years ago, I ignored my girlfriend's heart-wrenching pleas and ruthlessly severed our relationship. Now, after seven long years, she had risen to the top—and she was back, ready for her wedding. She didn't come home for mere celebration, though. She came for revenge. She obliterated the company my father had spent his entire life building and did not stop until she shattered his leg, forcing him to endure unimaginable pain. It was all so I'd be forced to go to her wedding and beg for forgiveness. But that wasn't enough. She wanted more. She hissed, brandishing a blade, "If Matthew's not here in ten minutes, I'll slice off a finger for every minute he's late." My autistic brother's fingers, the only way he could create art, became a bargaining chip in her sadistic game. Dad's anguished cries filled the air as he pleaded for mercy, but she was not done. She wanted to tear my family apart piece by piece. My mom, fragile and trapped in the haze of Alzheimer's, was next. Her mind, already slipping, crumbled under the relentless torment. She cracked, completely lost to the madness. With tears streaming down his face, Dad said, "My son died the day you left for abroad."

My foster sister Sophia, the last purebred white wolf in Grell village, was raped and tortured to death by an unknow rogue wolf. Her suicide note contained only one sentence: "Lina saw his face." From that day on, I became the pack's greatest sinner. Because I knew who the killer was, but I kept silent for five years. Until my foster brother Damien, the most powerful Alpha in North America, returned. He brought back the Soul Vision Device and forcibly extracted memories from my werewolf soul. All the werewolves who had the Soul Vision Device used on them either died or went insane. My werewolf was repeatedly tortured in the device, but Damien suppressed the pain in his eyes and roared, "When I find the truth, I'll send you and the murderer to hell together." But when they finally discovered the truth, Damien went mad.

It was New Year's Eve. We were streaming live when my brother called. I spoke first, "I wish you peace and a happy, long life." He gave a cold laugh. "Yeah, well, I don't want you to have any of that. I hope you spend the rest of your life in misery." I'd cut him off the year he was flat broke. Now that he was successful, this was the first thing he did—get back at me. I kept my tone calm. "I wish you peace and a happy, long life." He sounded annoyed. "Cut it out. There's no way I'm wishing you well. If I have to say something, then I hope you stay miserable forever." The host hesitated, then chimed in, "Ben, that was just a recording of Hailey's message. And yes, when she left… she was in a lot of pain and quite miserable, just like you hoped for."

The moment I was born, I took her life. They called me a murderer. Marcus used to burn me with cigarette butts, and Dad would say it was my fate. “You’re a curse. If you had any conscience, you’d have gone to join Mom a long time ago to repay what you owe.” When Marcus was diagnosed with kidney failure, that same cold, distant father knelt in front of me. “Please… save him…” I put my hand on Dad’s shoulder. “Dad, I’ll do the surgery. But can you promise me one thing?” Dad performed the surgery himself. It was a success. He saved the son he loved most and took the life of the daughter he hated. But after I died, Dad turned himself in to the police, and Marcus lost his mind.

I dumped Orion Gray when he was at his poorest. I even aborted the child we had together. In the blink of an eye, I got together with a rich man. After that, Orion went abroad in anger and sadness. Within two short years, he turned into the CEO of a publicly listed company. When he came back to the country, he swore that he would exact his revenge on me. However, my mother sent a disfigured corpse to his house and asked him to restore it to its original state. He did not know that it was the corpse of the person he hated the most—me.

Five years ago, I was the rising star of the nation’s top chemistry research lab, but on the eve of publishing the results of my study, my husband’s crush, Grace, killed me. She made several people violate me and cut my face up. Then, she injected sulfuric acid into my stomach, crushed my teeth and bones, and discarded my body without anyone’s knowledge. At that time, I was three months pregnant. But she told everyone that I stole the project’s research results and fled to another country. Jim, my husband, personally wrote a report to the government to label me as a globally wanted criminal. Five years later, a livestreamer who did nighttime explorations found my dried-up corpse in the basement of an abandoned warehouse.