The Golden Tyrant: Superman’s Omniversal Conquest

Arin stumbled into the quiet remnants of his once-bustling village, his battered body aching from the punishment dealt by the Golden Superman. The Celestial Arena still loomed in the sky, a grotesque reminder of the godlike tyrant who held the world—and now his very life—by its throat.

Children peeked out from behind crumbling walls, their wide eyes brimming with fear and curiosity. Women whispered in hushed tones as they hurried to hide their families, their footsteps soft against the cracked earth. Everyone avoided Arin's gaze, as if his shame was contagious.

But his mother… she didn't run.

Standing tall amidst the ruins, Liora waited for her son. Her piercing gray eyes scanned his form, taking in every bruise, every cut, and every defeated step. She was a striking woman, her beauty undiminished by hardship, her resolve sharp as steel. It was this strength, this defiance in her eyes, that had caught Kal-El's attention—a fact that twisted in Arin's chest like a blade.

"Arin," she said, her voice steady but laced with concern. "What happened?"

Arin froze in place, shame radiating from every pore. "I…" His voice cracked, and he looked away. "I lost."

Liora's expression softened, but there was no judgment in her gaze. "Tell me everything."

As Arin recounted the events in the Celestial Arena, his voice grew shaky. He told her about the Golden Superman's overwhelming power, his cruelty, and finally, the devastating ultimatum.

When he spoke the words—"He wants you to join his harem"—it was as if the very air froze around them. The murmurs of the villagers died, and a heavy silence fell.

Liora's face remained unreadable. She didn't flinch, didn't weep, didn't scream. Instead, she stepped closer to her son and gently cupped his bruised cheek.

"He offered this… to spare you?"

Arin nodded miserably. "I didn't know what to do, Mother. I—I couldn't let him kill you, but…" His fists clenched, his voice breaking. "He's a monster! He thinks he can just… take you, like you're some prize to be claimed!"

For a moment, Liora said nothing. Her hand dropped, and she turned away, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon.

"The Golden Superman," she said quietly, almost to herself. "The one who crushed gods, destroyed entire dimensions, and remade the world in his image. And now, he has turned his eyes… to me."

Arin grabbed her arm, panic in his voice. "We'll run! We'll hide! There's got to be someplace he can't reach us!"

But Liora shook her head slowly. "There's no place beyond his reach, Arin. You said it yourself—he's not just a man. He's a god. Running would only doom us both."

Tears welled in Arin's eyes. "Then what are we supposed to do? Just give up? Let him take you?"

Liora turned back to him, her expression unreadable. But there was a fire in her eyes, a fierce determination that had kept her alive through every hardship. "Do you trust me, Arin?"

"Of course I do," he said immediately.

"Then listen carefully." She stepped closer, lowering her voice so that only he could hear. "This isn't the end. Not for me, and not for you. The Golden Superman may think he's a god, but no being is truly invincible. If I go to him, it's not because I'm giving up—it's because I'm looking for a way to fight back."

Arin blinked in confusion. "Fight back? But how? He's… he's unstoppable!"

"Everything has a weakness," Liora said firmly. "Even gods. But to find his, I need time. And for now, the only way to buy that time is to play his game."

Arin wanted to argue, to scream that it was madness. But when he looked into his mother's eyes, he saw no fear—only resolve.

"Promise me," she continued, her voice steady. "Promise me you'll stay alive. No matter what happens, you'll keep going. You'll find others who are willing to resist, and you'll wait for the moment when we can strike. Can you do that?"

Arin hesitated, his heart twisting in anguish. But finally, he nodded. "I promise."

Liora gave him a small, sad smile and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Good. Now go. The Golden Superman will be expecting an answer, and we can't afford to delay."

The journey to the Golden Superman's palace was a surreal, almost dreamlike experience. Liora rode in silence, flanked by an entourage of women clad in gilded armor, each one stunningly beautiful, their faces serene yet unapproachable. The vehicle glided noiselessly over the pristine cobblestone roads, which wove through golden fields and under marble arches adorned with intricate carvings of celestial beings—testaments to the omnipotent ruler who governed this world.

When they arrived, the palace loomed before them, a masterpiece of European elegance and divine grandeur. Towering spires reminiscent of Gothic cathedrals pierced the heavens, their tips crowned with glowing orbs that radiated a soft golden light. Vast courtyards stretched out before the main gates, their gardens lush with vibrant roses and delicate lilies, their scents mingling in the air. Fountains carved from white marble stood sentinel, their waters shimmering like liquid gold under the sunlight.

The gates, wrought from what appeared to be pure crystal, swung open with a smooth, ethereal grace as Liora's escort guided her forward. Inside, the palace was a blend of Renaissance opulence and celestial splendor. The vaulted ceilings, painted with vivid frescoes of Superman's triumphs across the multiverse, seemed to stretch endlessly. Crystal chandeliers hung suspended in midair, casting a warm, golden glow that bathed the entire space in an almost holy radiance.

Her escorts—each a vision of flawless beauty—moved silently, their footsteps soft against the polished marble floors. They led her through hallways lined with intricately woven tapestries, depicting Superman's rise from the destruction of Krypton to his ascension as the Golden Superman, a god among mortals.

Finally, they arrived at the throne room.

The chamber stretched into infinity, its design a perfect blend of Baroque extravagance and celestial majesty. Columns of golden marble reached skyward, entwined with vines of glowing white roses. Massive stained-glass windows lined the walls, each one a masterpiece depicting Superman's victories over gods, demons, and the so-called chosen ones who had dared to challenge him.

At the center of it all, seated upon a throne carved from pure light, was the Golden Superman. His aura filled the room, a living presence that commanded reverence and awe.

"Liora," Kal-El greeted, his voice a symphony of authority and charm. "You've come."

Liora inclined her head, her expression calm and composed despite the overwhelming display of power around her. "I've come to spare my son's life, as you demanded."

Kal-El rose from his throne, his movements deliberate, regal. His golden cape swept behind him as he descended the steps, each step echoing like a divine decree. "Spoken like a true mother. Sacrificing yourself for your child. Admirable." His glowing eyes studied her intently, his tone taking on a playful edge. "But tell me, Liora, do you come to me willingly? Or is this… resentment I sense in you?"

Liora met his gaze without flinching. "I'm here because you left me no choice. Call it willingness if it pleases you, but don't mistake it for devotion."

Kal-El chuckled, the sound rich and resonant, a contrast to the tension that filled the room. "Spirited. I like that." He closed the distance between them, his towering figure radiating authority. Around them, the golden-armored women watched silently, their faces serene but their eyes alight with admiration for the man before them.

"You're unlike the others, Liora," Kal-El mused, his voice soft yet commanding. "They came to me broken, their wills already shattered. But you… you still believe you can defy me."

Liora's expression didn't waver, her silence a defiance of its own.

Kal-El leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that seemed to fill the vast chamber. "I'll enjoy watching that defiance melt away. Little by little, until there's nothing left but devotion to me."

For the first time, Liora allowed a hint of a smile to touch her lips. "We'll see, won't we?"

Kal-El's smile widened, a predator savoring the hunt. "Indeed, we will."

He turned to his guards, his cape swirling dramatically as he spoke. "Prepare her quarters. She is not a prisoner—she is a guest. Treat her accordingly."

The women around him bowed gracefully, their movements elegant and synchronized. As they escorted Liora away, the air was heavy with unspoken questions and silent promises.

Liora was led through another corridor, this one lined with portraits of women—each impossibly beautiful, each radiating an ethereal glow. Her steps faltered as she realized these weren't just paintings. These were depictions of the women who had come before her, the ones Kal-El had claimed as his own.

And yet, in their eyes, she saw no despair. Only devotion.

They led her to a grand chamber, its walls adorned with tapestries of starlit skies and gilded filigree. A bed fit for a queen stood at its center, draped in silk and velvet. The room was luxurious, almost intoxicatingly so, but it felt like a gilded cage.

One of the guards—a striking woman with flowing auburn hair—paused before leaving. "You are blessed, Liora," she said softly, her voice filled with reverence.

"Blessed?" Liora asked, her voice sharp.

The guard nodded, her eyes shining with something like awe. "To belong to him. To be chosen by the Golden Superman is the greatest honor any of us could hope for. He is more than a man. He is perfection made flesh."

Liora frowned, searching the woman's expression for a hint of doubt or fear, but found none. These women truly worshipped him, not as a tyrant but as a savior.

As the guard left, closing the ornate doors behind her, Liora sank onto the edge of the bed, her mind racing.

This wasn't what she had expected. These women weren't prisoners—they were devoted. Enthralled. And if she was to find a way to resist Kal-El's dominance, she would first have to understand the hold he had over them.

For now, she would play his game, just as she had promised Arin. But in her heart, she knew one thing for certain: the Golden Superman might have claimed her body, but he would never claim her soul.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________To Be Continued...