Chapter 66: The Death of Superman, A New Era
When Xi Nian returned to the district where his instructor and classmates were located, he noticed something unusual. Almost everyone was staring in shock at the massive advertising screen mounted on the side of a tall building.
On that huge screen, a live broadcast was playing.
It was a feed from Gotham City, shot from the overhead view of a news helicopter.
The footage showed the city in chaos: piercing sirens echoed across the burning skyline, both ground and sky lit by flames.
An abandoned factory had been reduced to a wasteland. The battlefield there had collapsed five meters deep into the ground. Shattered concrete and twisted steel lay in ruins, as if the city had been torn apart by a natural disaster. Even through the screen, one could almost smell the heavy stench of smoke and gunpowder.
Everything made it clear—while New York was enduring an alien invasion, Gotham was experiencing a battle just as brutal, far beyond human imagination.
At the center of that battle, a towering man in a black bat-themed armored suit, a beautiful woman wielding a golden sword and round shield, and a woman dressed in the simple attire of a reporter were locked in combat.
Xi Nian's expression darkened. His aunt… she was there too, fighting in this other war today.
The camera zoomed in, capturing the heart of the battlefield.
A tall figure in a flowing red cape stood face-to-face with a monstrous beast.
The creature was even larger than Abomination, grotesque and terrifying, its body covered in bulging knots of muscle.
And the man in the red cape—no explanation was needed. Everyone on Earth knew who he was.
Superman.
But the invincible hero who had once lifted Boeing aircraft and shattered mountains now wrestled in desperate combat with the hideous monster.
Superman drove a spear glowing with green light deep into the beast's body. At the same time, the monster's dark, razor-sharp claws pierced straight through Superman's chest.
The two of them froze in a grim tableau, like some ancient, forbidden statue standing motionless amid the ruins.
Drip.
Scarlet blood ran down Superman's flawless, unyielding body. Watching the broadcast, countless people around the world shuddered as the thought struck them: even gods can bleed—and their blood is red.
Superman opened his mouth in agony, a wail tearing from his throat that resonated like a shockwave across the battlefield.
And then, both he and the monster tilted sideways, collapsing together in the heart of the devastation.
Superman lay on the ground, surrounded by twisted metal and blood, while above him the sky glowed red like the aftermath of a nuclear blast.
"January 2nd, 2012. At exactly nine o'clock in the evening… Superman has fallen."
In Gotham, in New York, across the world—wherever people were watching—the audience fell into stunned silence.
"Superman… dead? That's impossible!"
But disbelief couldn't change the truth.
It was real.
On this single day, two world-shaking events occurred: the Battle of New York and the death of Superman. Humanity was forced to confront a terrifying truth—there were monstrous alien forces beyond Earth, and even on Earth itself, there existed entities capable of killing Superman.
Fear. Trembling. Unease.
The veil was torn away. The hidden side of the world had been exposed.
It felt like humanity had been cast back to a primal age, an age before they had ever ruled Earth. From this day forward, a brand new era had begun.
…
New York, S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters. Inside the conference room.
A bald man in a suit, wearing neat glasses, slammed the table with his hand, shouting furiously. "What is going on here?! Not only have we lost Loki's scepter, but even the Cosmic Cube that belonged to S.H.I.E.L.D. has vanished! The Avengers must take full responsibility for this!"
Around the table sat the exhausted heroes.
Tony Stark toyed distractedly with his water glass, his armor set aside. Bruce Banner, back in human form after transforming from the Hulk, yawned loudly. Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, had removed his helmet and sat in silence. Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, and Hawkeye, Clint Barton, pretended not to hear the man's accusations.
"Can I get a glass of water? And by the way, who are you again?" Stark gestured at his empty cup, glancing lazily at the bald man.
The man's eye twitched with suppressed rage. "I am Agent Sitwell of S.H.I.E.L.D., authorized by the highest council. I have full authority to oversee the aftermath of the Battle of New York."
"Oh? Then where were you while we were fighting?" Stark shrugged.
"Watch your tone…" Sitwell began, but stopped abruptly when Banner twitched violently, as if he might transform at any moment. Sitwell and the agents behind him instinctively stepped back in panic.
But Banner just spread his hands and said calmly, "Don't mind me. Go on."
Don't mind you? You're a walking time bomb! Sitwell wanted to shout, but at that moment the conference room doors opened.
A tall black man in a long black coat, his single eye sharp and unreadable, stepped inside. A tall female agent followed him.
"Agent Sitwell, leave us," Nick Fury ordered.
"Yes, Director." Sitwell could only comply. He motioned to his men and left, though before going he muttered, "Director, understand—I don't want this job either. But the council will demand answers."
Nick Fury's face remained unreadable. Only when the others were gone did he turn his gaze to the Avengers.
"Where's Thor?" Fury asked steadily.
"He returned to Asgard," Stark answered quickly. "Said he had to deal with his brother Loki."
"As a war criminal, Loki must face justice," Fury said, his single eye narrowing. He scanned the table, his voice heavy. "I trust you've all heard the news. Superman has fallen. And though we survived the Battle of New York, the cost was devastating. This was not a true victory. Ahead of us lies only more danger, more threats waiting to strike."
He paused, then asked, "So. What do you have to say?"
"Armor. Weapons." Stark's voice was firm. "We need to arm the entire world with advanced suits."
"Tony," Steve Rogers said sternly, frowning. "That's too extreme."
"Extreme? I don't think so." Stark shook his head.
"Forget about arming the whole world," Banner added. "But yes, our tech is far from enough. We need stronger suits. For example, a Hulkbuster—built to counter me if I lose control, and also usable as a heavy weapon on the battlefield."
"Banner, you're a genius," Stark said, eyes lighting up. "Not just a Hulkbuster—we need counters for every kind of threat. More advanced suits, more specialized weapons!"
"And what about you two?" Fury asked, turning to Natasha and Clint.
Hawkeye scratched the back of his head and muttered, "We need more superheroes."
Not exactly helpful. Of course more heroes would be good—but where would they come from?
"I've been thinking about something," Natasha said suddenly. "Today, the one who stepped in and turned the tide of battle in New York… Who was he?"
At her words, the room fell silent.
Every Avenger thought of the same figure—that mysterious fighter who had, alone, shifted the entire course of the war.
Who was he?
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