I Somehow Became The Almighty Creator, l can create anything: Be Ware
Chapter 64. [Bonus]

Chapter 64: Chapter 64. [Bonus]

The pod shuddered softly as the tube set into motion, the faint vibration of its propulsion system humming beneath Watts’ feet.

Unlike traditional trains that clattered along rails, this marvel moved seamlessly through its enclosed passage, the sleek design giving the impression of a single, fluid entity.

It was more akin to a seed being propelled through the veins of a vast organism—smooth, silent, and precise.

Watts leaned back in his chair, closing the book he had been reading and setting it on the small table beside him.

The pod’s walls were primarily crafted from sleek metal, but the window at his side offered a mesmerizing view of the sea.

The transparent surface allowed him to see the endless expanse of water outside, though he knew it was opaque from the other side, ensuring complete privacy.

The tube curved gracefully, descending into the ocean depths.

The once-bright surface waters dimmed, replaced by the deep blues of the open sea.

Schools of fish swam in synchronized patterns, their silver scales glinting in the faint sunlight that filtered through the water.

An occasional shadow of a larger creature passed by—mysterious, graceful, and untouchable.

The world outside was serene, a stark contrast to the tension that had filled his life in recent days.

Watts exhaled, the weight on his chest momentarily lifting as he allowed himself to relax. His gaze remained fixed on the marine panorama, the movement of the water hypnotic and calming.

For a fleeting moment, his thoughts drifted to a time long past—a time when life was simpler, untouched by the dangers and complexities that now defined his existence.

He thought of his aunt Liz and his sister, Layla. Memories of them were vivid, untouched by the haze of time.

They had been his anchor, his constant in a world that often seemed uncertain. His mind replayed one particular memory, sharp and warm like sunlight breaking through clouds.

The kitchen was alive with the smell of baking bread and the sharp sweetness of freshly sliced oranges.

Aunt Liz, her hands dusted with flour, was meticulously kneading dough on the counter, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Layla, younger and always brimming with mischief, had been assigned the task of sifting more flour into the bowl.

Watts had stood nearby, pretending to help but mostly sneaking tastes of the cookie dough when he thought no one was looking.

He smiled faintly as he recalled what happened next. Layla, her eyes sparkling with playful defiance, had taken a handful of the flour and hurled it at Aunt Liz. The puff of white exploded against Liz’s shoulder, the cloud settling over her apron like powdered snow.

Liz’s gasp of mock indignation was so loud that it startled Watts, and before he could process what was happening, Liz had retaliated.

Two handfuls of flour hit Layla square in the face. Layla squealed in delight and outrage, her laughter filling the room.

The war escalated almost instantly. Watts had tried to stay out of it at first, but soon enough, a handful of flour found its way to him.

Then another.

In minutes, the kitchen was a chaotic battlefield, every surface dusted white, every participant unrecognizable under layers of flour.

Watts remembered the way they had all collapsed on the floor afterward, laughing so hard that tears streamed down their faces.

Aunt Liz, ever the disciplinarian, had eventually stood and declared, "Now you two are cleaning all of this!"

Despite their protests, the three of them had spent the rest of the afternoon scrubbing the kitchen spotless.

Even that task, tedious as it had been, was filled with laughter and the occasional remnant of the earlier battle—a handprint of flour on the refrigerator, a streak of white across the cabinets.

The memory warmed him, and he found himself smiling despite everything. That moment, like so many others with Aunt Liz and Layla, had been perfect.

It was a reminder of what he was fighting for, why he was willing to risk so much.

This wasn’t once or twice, but had taken place many times he had lost count.

His smile lingered as his gaze returned to the water outside.

A shoal of vibrant fish darted by, their synchronized movements a fleeting spectacle against the endless blue.

The pod accelerated further, the faint glow of the tube’s propulsion system casting shifting shadows through the water.

Watts remained quiet, the hum of the pod and the gentle motion of the sea providing a backdrop to his thoughts.

The memory of the flour war played in his mind again, vivid and unrelenting, as if his mind was unwilling to let go of its warmth.

Watts sat in his pod, his posture relaxed but his mind anything but. One hand supported his cheek, elbow resting on the armrest of the plush couch beneath him.

His eyes were fixed on the vast ocean beyond the transparent window, the pod’s soft hum blending seamlessly with the quietude of his thoughts.

The faint glow of the propulsion system illuminated the water outside, casting shimmering patterns on the marine life that passed by.

He let his thoughts drift as the scenery deepened, the water darkening to a rich blue as the tube descended further into the ocean.

The journey was tranquil, almost meditative, and the soothing sights outside lent themselves to contemplation.

Watts wasn’t one for allowing himself to dwell too long on emotions, but here in the quiet solitude of the pod, he let determination fill him.

His family was out there—his aunt and sister. Taken. Somewhere they didn’t belong, somewhere they couldn’t escape without him.

The thought ignited a fire in his chest, his jaw tightening as he resolved, once again, to bring them back. No matter what it cost. No matter who stood in his way.

He’d fought battles before, but this was different.

This wasn’t a mission or a contract. This was personal. He was going to rescue them and ensure they were safe, far from the reach of those who had stolen them.

That was a certainty, an immovable truth in his mind.

The attendant’s voice crackled gently through the intercom, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Attention, passengers. We are one hour from our destination. Please ensure you are prepared for arrival."

Watts blinked, his focus shifting back to the present.

Unknowingly, hours had passed while he had been lost in his recollections and determination. The realization brought a small sigh to his lips as he looked back out the window.

The ocean outside had grown darker still, a testament to the tube’s gradual descent into deeper waters.

The creatures visible now were fewer, larger, and more mysterious, their movements slower and more deliberate.

Shaking his head lightly to clear it, he reached for the novel on the table beside him.

The worn cover felt familiar in his hand as he opened it to where he had left off.

For the moment, he allowed himself to immerse in the words, letting them carry him away from the weight of his mission.

........................

Far away, beyond the limits of Earth’s sky and far beyond the bounds of its universe, a colossal spaceship hung in the void of space.

Its sheer size dwarfed anything created by human hands, a leviathan of technology and menace.

The ship’s hull was painted a matte black that absorbed light, interrupted only by faint streaks of luminescent blue that glowed like veins pulsing with energy.

Dominating its surface was an insignia that struck terror into those who recognized it: a phoenix’s head engulfed in flames, rising behind a human skull.

The symbol, bold and unyielding, carried with it the promise of annihilation. To see it was to know fear, for it heralded a force that left no survivors.

Within the ship, the control room was a marvel of futuristic design.

Every surface gleamed, and consoles covered in alien script flashed with information.

Dozens of humanoid aliens worked with unrelenting focus, their varied forms creating a kaleidoscope of colors and textures.

Some had scales, others smooth skin in hues that ranged from pale gold to deep crimson. They moved with purpose, each performing their role with precision.

At the helm stood a captain whose appearance was as imposing as his command.

His skin was a deep, dusky purple, his features sharp and gaunt, evoking the eerie elegance of a predator.

He stood tall, his posture rigid as he issued commands.

Before him was a projection of the ship’s owner—a figure obscured in shadow, her presence exuding an air of dominance.

Her voice, cold and measured, resonated through the room.

"Set destination to Ter," she ordered, her tone making the name sound like a curse. "Known as Earth. Gaia Universe."

The captain inclined his head. "As you command, Lady Aeonborn."

He turned back to his crew. "Coordinates locked. Estimated travel time, 11 months."

The ship’s engines began to hum with increased power, the sound resonating like a deep, living heartbeat.

On the main console, a map of the cosmos appeared, highlighting their destination: Earth.

Those in the control room exchanged glances, some with grim determination, others with silent dread.

They all knew the weight of their mission, the gravity of the orders they were carrying out.

To the uninformed, it was merely a destination. But to those who understood the story behind the command, it was far more.

This lady, the owner of the ship was of Aeonborn bloodline, the one who had sensed Watts awakening of his bloodline. [Chpt 31]

And now she was going to find him and end him, because his potential was way too terrifying as it would change the balance she had so much worked to maintain.

The captain hesitated for a fraction of a second before continuing his report. "All systems functional. The crew is prepared. We will arrive in Gaia Universe on schedule."

"Good," came Aeonborn’s reply, her voice sharp and final.

The projection disappeared as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving the control room cloaked in the muted glow of its displays.

The ship surged forward, its engines propelling it through the uncharted reaches of space toward its fateful destination.