I Somehow Became The Almighty Creator, l can create anything: Be Ware
Chapter 51

Chapter 51: Chapter 51

A/N: I have made a little clarification about the change in his abilities so for those who might want to know more, please re-read Chapter 47.

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Watts breathed out as he looked all around the planet. The destruction was so obvious, it was still there.

And even if he had released life energy across the planet, washing away the death aura on the planet, it would still take time to heal.

It would still take years for the ecosystems to go back to how they were previously.

For the deaths to be replaced by new beasts and species.

However, if he hadn’t cleansed the world from the aura of death that had already encompassed it, it would have taken way longer.

Yet as his body stilled, his mind was a tempest of contradictions.

A flicker of relief for stopping the cataclysm clashed with the haunting guilt of its origin.

Never in his life had he ever thought something like this would happen. Never had he though he would cause the destruction of a whole god damn planet.

Bring the despair of billions of beings and in all that, even enjoy every bit of it. He couldn’t fathom how this had even come to be.

How did he even reach at this point?

Seriously all he wanted was to save his parents from a kidnap, but all he was getting was some kind of rap up shit.

However before he could even fully process the events, an overwhelming pull seized him—not physical, but deeply spiritual.

His soul wrenched free from his body, and in an instant, he was cast into the vast void of the cosmos.

You know like that movie of Doctor Strange? The first time he met the Ancient One? Yeah, that’s how it was like.

His soul literally out of his body, and travelling the galaxy. Worst of all, he didn’t even know who it was that did this and he couldn’t stop it hard as he tried.

But right now, he was being forced to have a tour around the galaxy.

However, contrary to what one would expect, the sight before him was devastating.

Planets were destroyed. The galaxy was now teaming with dead planets and stars, everything in them___ dead.

And he knew there was only one reason for that, his powers. His transition from the calm creation ability to the all consuming and greedy death ability.

He floated amidst the remnants of destruction, witnessing the carnage wrought by the power he had unleashed.

Death had not stopped at the edges of the planet where the storm began. Its tendrils had stretched outward, consuming neighboring planets and star systems.

Entire worlds once teeming with life now hung silent and lifeless in the void, their surfaces blackened, their atmospheres stripped away.

It was as though a malevolent artist had painted the galaxy with strokes of annihilation.

Planets farther away had fared no better. Although they had not been obliterated entirely, the death energy permeated their ecosystems, sowing chaos and despair.

Civilizations fell into madness; ecosystems collapsed. Only the planet he stood on and a few of its nearby celestial siblings had survived intact, a bitter irony because death itself feared harming him.

It had unleashed devastation to test him, to push him toward understanding its power, but had stopped short of extinguishing its bearer.

Watts felt his very essence shudder.

The immensity of the destruction he had caused rippled through him. He was not just a witness; he was the architect of this ruin.

He was the harbinger of this doom, a period of apocalypse for trillions and trillions of people.

And yet here he was, smiling, enjoying, living, even going to meet his family. But what about others. How many children out there had he robbed of the chance to ever dee their parents again?

How many mothers out there were crying over the dead bodies of their kids, how many fathers, sisters, children had he ruined lives for.

Countless.

Did he deserve peace, did he deserve to even go back and hug his aunt, his sister and smile at them.

When he had robbed this chance from billions other people?

This was something he would never forget, this was a guilt that he will have to carry with him the rest of his long life, for he didn’t deserve peace for what he had done.

Yet, as the guilt threatened to consume him, another realization crystallized. This had not been entirely his doing.

He had been thrust into this storm without guidance, a pawn in a game he barely understood.

He didn’t ask for any of this, not this stupid overpowered bloodline that he didn’t even understand.

He had been living peacefully in his normal life with a happy family, yet fate had to ruin that by giving him some shit ability.

Like giving a one year old a helicopter as a present, and expect him to fly it perfectly.

Why was it him of the people out there, why did he have to carry this burden? Why?

The guilt began to fade, replaced by a simmering anger—not at himself, but at fate.

This fate was shit.

And if he was to go by the novels he has read all this time, then there must be someone manipulating him from behind scenes.

If one day he got that fucker in his two hands______ only God knows what he could do to that dude.

At this moment, the void around him shifted, condensing into an ethereal presence.

The consciousness of the galaxy itself manifested, an enormous swirling vortex of light and shadow.

Pulsing with raw, unbridled rage, its voice a cacophony of grief and accusation that reverberated through the fabric of existence.

One could tell just from the "expression".

"You," it roared, "have brought death to my children. You, a mere speck of mortality, wield a power you do not understand, and for what? To bring ruin? To watch the cosmos burn?"

Watts floated, silent and calm despite the fury directed at him. He had no words of defense, no grand justification to offer.

The galaxy’s accusations were valid, but the blame was not solely his. Still, he met its rage with an unyielding gaze.

"You are angry," he said evenly, "and you have every right to be. But do not think for a moment that I chose this. I was played, just as you were. Your pain is not mine to carry, nor is your anger."

The galaxy’s swirling form darkened, its rage intensifying. "You think yourself innocent? You dare dismiss your role in this calamity? Then let death claim you as it has claimed countless others!"

The vortex trembled, and a chilling proclamation echoed through the void: "Since you have brought death, let death be your end."

A curse.

This thought reverberated loudly in his mind.

And in the next second, he felt his soul recoil as the curse took hold, its power an oppressive weight that sought to crush his very existence.

His soul hurled back into his body at break neck speed, his soul roughly crashing into his waiting body on the ground.

Watts gasped loudly as he took in air, but then a sudden immense pain assaulted him like a sudden blanket.

He felt his mind, soul and body crumble under the weight of the curse.

But then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the pressure ceased. The dark tendrils of the curse evaporated, and the familiar monotone voice of his system chimed in.

[System Notification: The Galactic Curse of Death has been nullified.]

[Reason: Host possesses the Blessing of the Universe, which supersedes the authority of a mere galaxy.]

Relief flooded through him, for a second he thought he was really going to die. But wait, he was death itself, could he even die?

The notification continued.

[Note: Due to the host’s actions, the curse’s essence has been repurposed. All abilities, except for the Affinity of Death and those derived from the Blessing of the Universe, have been temporarily sealed. Duration: Indefinite.]

"Wait, what?" he roared.

Watts’s relief turned to disbelief, then to panic. Did that mean all his powers he had created for himself would all be sealed?

He felt a sudden emptiness within himself, a hollowness where his other powers had once thrived.

For a moment, he floundered, grappling with the loss. His beautiful technopathy, his TDM, his clones, his element Aeonborn which was by the way also overpowered.

Now he was very sure that everything about his bloodline Aeonborn was overpowered. But how the fuck was he supposed to live without all this.

Then, clarity dawned. He had way too many abilities that he didn’t even know their full potential.

Perhaps this curse, this debuff, was not a punishment but an opportunity—a forced focus on the one power that had been thrust upon him.

Well, this is how weird luck can be, it really works in weird ways. Did it really have to make him cursed?

"Fine," he muttered, determination hardening his voice. "If death is all I have, then I’ll master it. I’ll turn this curse into a strength."

Watts rose to his feet, his resolve unshaken. There was one task left before he could leave this place.

He retrieved the egg he had carried all this time. Its surface glowed faintly, a reminder of life’s fragility amid the omnipresence of death.

"Let’s hatch you, little one," he murmured. "And then we’ll go home."