I Somehow Became The Almighty Creator, l can create anything: Be Ware Chapter 67

Tessa’s gaze lingered on Watts as he hesitated, his expression shifting to sothing she couldn’t quite decipher—concern? Determination? It was subtle but undeniable.

Before she could ask what was wrong, Watts turned to her, his voice calm but firm.

"I’ll be back in a minute," he said, his tone leaving no room for argunt.

Without another word, his presence vanished entirely. It wasn’t like soone walking away or even teleporting.

To Tessa and anyone else in the vicinity, it was as though he had been erased from existence itself. No trace of his energy signature, no shadow of his aura, nothing.

Tessa blinked, her mind reeling.

Instinctively reached out to the comm device embedded in her earpiece, calling for a trace on his location, but the reports ca back the sa.

"No sign. Not even residual energy."

Her chest tightened. Who—or what—was this man?

...........

Watts, anwhile, had stepped into a place few others could even comprehend: the Literal Realm.

This dinsion, discovered instinctively when his death powers first manifested, was a parallel overlay to the real world, much like the Mirror Dinsion of certain sorcerers in Marvel.

It reflected reality perfectly, down to the finest detail, but it lacked life. No people, no animals, only the unfeeling architecture of the world as it stood.

The air here was still, carrying an eerie silence. It was a realm of echoes and shadows, where everything felt simultaneously tangible and unreal.

Watts adjusted his focus, his Eyes of the Universe flaring to life.

Seeking the faint traces of his family’s energy signature from wherever they were at this point.

It took only seconds.

A golden thread, faint but resolute, pulsed in his vision, leading him to the heart of the hidden city.

There, deep within the dense forest on the outskirts, was a facility—a stark and cold presence cloaked in layers of security.

Even in this dinsion, Watts could sense the oppressive energy emanating from it.

With a thought, he willed himself forward. Movent in the Literal Realm was not bound by the constraints of distance.

It wasn’t walking, running, or flying—it was willing. Like a shadow slipping through cracks, he traveled instantly to the facility.

Appearing just outside, Watts allowed himself a mont to observe. The building was monolithic and sterile, a fortress designed to blend with its surroundings yet fortified against intrusion.

Through the layers of security and reinforced walls, he could see faint outlines of the individuals inside, ghostly and unaware of his presence in this dinsion.

Watts moved effortlessly through the outer walls, his form passing through them as though they were made of smoke.

The Literal Realm granted him this freedom—he was a ghost here, untouchable and unseen by those in the real world.

Inside, the facility was exactly what he expected: sterile corridors, advanced machinery, and personnel moving with precision and purpose.

His eyes scanned ahead, honing in on the golden threads of his family’s energy. They led him deeper, past layers of locked doors and guarded checkpoints.

Finally, he reached the lab.

The sight before him stopped him cold.

Separated by a glass partition, Aunt Liz and Layla lay strapped to cold tallic beds. Their faces were peaceful in unconsciousness, but their restraints told another story.

Wires and sensors were attached to their temples, their arms, even their chests.

His gaze lingered on Layla, her blonde hair spread like a halo against the cold tallic surface of the bed.

She was his little sister, the one who had once followed him everywhere, begging him to teach her everything he knew.

Now, she lay there, vulnerable and unaware of the horrors around her.

And Aunt Liz, who had raised him like her own child after his parents passed, her face serene but her body confined like a prisoner.

They were his world, and the thought of losing them ignited a fury so fierce it threatened to consu him

Machines surrounding them humd with ominous purpose, their displays filled with readings that ant little to him but were clearly critical to the researchers bustling about.

The people here moved with a focused urgency. A team of five in white coats gathered around one of the terminals, while others adjusted equipnt near the two won.

At the center of it all stood a man who radiated authority—a tall, sharp-featured figure with silver-streaked hair and an unsettling calm.

Watts focused on this man, he heard him issuing precise instructions to the others, his voice steady but with an edge of warning.

"We’ve finally broken those weird symbols," he said, his tone carrying a mixture of triumph and caution.

"But the energy readings from the subjects are unstable. Proceed carefully—we cannot afford to damage them before we understand what we’re dealing with."

Watts felt a surge of cold fury as he pieced together the implications of those words.

These people had been experinting on his family, prodding and probing them without care for their humanity.

The thought of Aunt Liz and Layla—his family—being reduced to "subjects" in the eyes of these researchers filled him with an anger so sharp it almost blinded him.

His fists clenched, and for a mont, the realm around him wavered as his emotions threatened to spill over.

Nova chirped softly, sensing his turmoil from her perch within his mindscape.

Watts’ eyes flicked to the equipnt surrounding his family, taking in every detail.

He saw how their lives were being weighed and asured, their existence reduced to numbers on a screen.

He could feel the oppressive energy in the room, the way the researchers viewed them not as people but as objects to be used.

A storm raged within him, a maelstrom of emotions clawing for dominance—rage, fear, helplessness.

He gritted his teeth, his hands trembling as the temptation to lash out surged through him.

But he knew he couldn’t afford to act impulsively.

Not yet.

Every breath was a battle, every second a reminder of the stakes at hand.

He had to be smart, even as the rage threatened to tear him apart.

The leader, a man with sharp features and a cruel smirk, barked orders to his subordinates, his voice dripping with condescension.

"Do I need to remind you what failure here ans? Get it done, or I’ll find soone who can!..."

One of the researchers flinched, her hands trembling as she adjusted a monitor, while another muttered sothing under his breath before resuming his work.

It was clear they were more afraid of him than of whatever they were tampering with.

The rest of his words were lost to Watts, drowned out by the roaring in his ears.

Watts stood in the Literal Realm, his fury simring just beneath the surface as he focused on the lab’s main server.

The Eyes of the Universe allowed him to bypass the most sophisticated firewalls and encryption, granting him unrestricted access to the heart of the facility’s information.

Streams of data, intricate and layered, unraveled before his vision like a tapestry, each thread revealing truths that deepened his anger.

The first revelation struck him with grim clarity.

The facility’s researchers had discovered the protective runes he had placed on Aunt Liz and Layla.

Although they didn’t fully understand the ancient magic, their analysis showed a growing interest in deciphering it.

After all even with there very advanced tech, it took them almost the whole day to break through.

And now they were behind schedule even.

Files marked "CLASSIFIED: PRIORITY ONE" detailed their findings and speculated on how the runes worked.

They had noted the incredible effectiveness of the protective barriers, not just in shielding their physical forms but in masking their energy signatures.

It was evident that these people sought to harness this knowledge for their own purposes, not caring about the sacred origins or the lives tied to it.

Watts’ fists clenched tighter as he skimd through their plans. They had no respect for the runes’ aning or the devastation that tampering with them could unleash.

All they saw was power, another tool to exploit.

Then ca the second revelation, his clone that had been kidnapped with his family from the hospital had disintegrated into dust later.

The researchers were still looking for the reason for this kind of phenonon according to the files.

Watts pieced it together instantly. The clone’s ti of demise aligned with the mont his powers were sealed after he gained the death ability.

It all made sense now—the clone’s existence was tied to his own energy signature.

When his powers shifted and redefined themselves, the clone could no longer sustain its form.

The researchers didn’t understand the connection, but they had flagged the incident as an anomaly worth further study.

He swallowed hard, the mory of that mont fresh in his mind.

The loss of the clone wasn’t just a tactical setback; it was a reminder of the imnse cost his powers ca with, a cost that he didn’t want to pay again... ever.

Finally, Watts delved into the most recent and heavily encrypted files—the ones tied to the experint about to take place. As the data unfolded before him, his entire body went rigid.

The details were horrifying.

For the first ti since entering the Literal Realm, Watts faltered, his breath catching in his throat.

What they planned to do to his aunt and sister was beyond cruel, beyond anything he could have imagined.

His mind reeled as he absorbed the information, each word driving the blade of anger deeper into his chest.

He froze, unable to move for a mont, his fury and anguish battling for control.