I Somehow Became The Almighty Creator, l can create anything: Be Ware Chapter 92

Watts exhaled softly. "You know, Nova, I really don’t know what I’m doing anymore."

His words were barely above a whisper, yet they carried a weight that even he wasn’t sure how to unpack.

"It feels like life is moving too fast, like I can’t keep up. One mont, I was just so normal guy, doing normal things with normal people... and now?"

He chuckled dryly. "Now, I’m wanted by gods. Like literally!"

He let the statent hang in the air, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. He was talking to a bird. Maybe he was losing his mind.

Nova, however, seed to have other thoughts on the matter.

With a sharp chirp, she suddenly jabbed her small beak downward.

Straight into his crotch.

Watts nearly fell off his chair.

Even though his body was impervious to most physical damage, the sheer surprise of the attack had him doubling over, clutching himself in exaggerated agony.

"Fuck! Okay, okay! You’re not a bird, I an... you are, but.." he groaned, pulling his knees to his chest, his expression contorted in pretend pain.

"You’re... special, alright? God, did you really have to go for my balls?"

Nova, now satisfied, ruffled her feathers proudly and settled down against him once more.

Watts let out a sigh, shaking his head in amusent. "God, what the hell is this life?"

And with that, they sat together in the peace and quiet of the literal realm, waiting for what was to co next.

Watts stood in the quiet expanse of the Literal Realm, his senses stretched outward, perceiving the awakening of the newly transford Supre Humans. The once-rescued captives, now completely changed, had erged from their cocoons. Their bodies had undergone a tamorphosis beyond imagination, and with it, the dawn of a new era began.

They were the first of their kind, the pioneers of a race destined to shake the very foundation of the omniverse. But they themselves had yet to realize their own potential.

In an instant, Watts vanished from his position and reappeared high above the stadium he had created for them. Below, the 47 individuals he had saved now stood, visibly bewildered by their transformation. Murmurs filled the air as they touched their skin, ran hands over their muscles, and looked upon each other with disbelief.

The Supre Human race had not just granted them power; it had refined them to the peak of human potential. Their appearances had shifted—every scar, every imperfection erased as though they had never existed.

They were taller, stronger, more refined in their build. The n bore powerful physiques, each one seemingly sculpted from marble, the kind that would make them instant stars in any movie industry.

The won had beco breathtakingly beautiful, their forms refined to an ideal balance—whether they had been petite or curvaceous, their transformation only enhanced their natural aesthetics rather than forcing uniformity.

They were staring at themselves, at each other, at their newfound forms, unable to comprehend what had happened. So gasped in amazent, so ran their hands over their faces in stunned silence, and others simply stood there, speechless.

Watts looked down at them with a satisfied smile. He now had an army—47 Supre Humans, each a warrior in their own right, bound to him in unwavering loyalty. But as he was taking in the sight of his new force, sothing unexpected happened.

As if compelled by so deep-seated instinct, all 47 suddenly dropped to one knee, bowing their heads in unison.

Watts raised an eyebrow. "What the..." he muttered, genuinely caught off guard.

And then he rembered.

Just like vampires and their progenitors, Supre Humans instinctively revered their creator. They felt a deep-rooted loyalty to him, an unbreakable bond, a connection that transcended rational thought.

It wasn’t just respect—it was sothing far greater. They would follow his every command without hesitation, their very beings attuned to his will.

Nova, who had perched on his shoulder, chirped happily and fluttered off, soaring in circles above the kneeling warriors as if celebrating their new existence.

Shaking his head with amusent, Watts sighed and waved his hand. "Okay, okay, rise. It’s uncomfortable seeing you guys like that."

As one, they obeyed, returning to their seats with a newfound sense of purpose. So still looked dazed, but others now sat straighter, more confident. The power coursing through their veins was undeniable.

Watts surveyed them all, considering how best to utilize them. He needed structure—an organized force.

"Now, I’m going to divide you all into groups," he announced, his voice firm yet composed. "But first, let’s give you all a na. You are the first-ever Supre Humans, the first of your kind. A new race. A race greater than any before it. And you... you are going to be my army. A force that will shape the galaxy. The Nexus Army."

A ripple of excitent passed through the group.

"Now, I will categorize you based on your abilities and strengths. Those of you with support-type abilities, those designed more for strategy and infiltration rather than direct combat, step to the side."

A mont of hesitation passed before 27 individuals separated from the rest. These were the ones with skills suited for intelligence, reconnaissance, and subterfuge.

"You will be the Espionage Division," Watts declared. "Your job will be to infiltrate, gather intelligence, and operate in the shadows. But don’t worry—I’ll personally train you to beco the absolute best."

The 27 nodded, so still uncertain, but the way Watts spoke left no room for doubt.

He then turned to the remaining 20. "As for the rest of you, you will undergo training and preparation. I have specific plans that will require specialized roles. You don’t have an assigned division yet, but trust , you will soon. For now, you’ll be trained to maximize your potential."

He let his words sink in, allowing them to grasp the magnitude of what was happening. This wasn’t just so ordinary recruitnt; they were being sculpted into the most powerful force the galaxy had ever seen.

"Right now, I’m in a hurry," Watts continued, "but I won’t leave you directionless. My clone will remain here to oversee your training and arrangents. He will ensure that everything runs smoothly while I attend to other matters."

And with that, he vanished.

A heartbeat later, his clone materialized in his place, standing with the sa calm authority.

anwhile, Watts himself had reappeared back in the Literal Realm, where Layla and Liz still rested in their cocoons. He could sense that they were nearing their awakening.

Nova chirped and fluttered back onto his shoulder. He absentmindedly stroked her head as he exhaled slowly. Things were happening fast—too fast—but for now, everything was moving according to plan.

Soon, Layla and Liz would rise as his Generals. And then, the real ga would begin.

Watts appeared in the secluded chamber where his aunt and sister remained encased in their cocoons of pure energy. The ti had finally co. His Eyes of the Universe had already inford him that their transformation was in its final stages, and in re monts, they would erge as the first of his Supre Human Generals.

The cocoon’s once-vibrant glow began to wane, the blue radiance dimming rapidly until the outer shell turned nearly transparent.

Cracks ford along the shimring surface, spiderwebbing across the structure with audible snaps.

Then, with a sudden, echoing shatter, the energy casing burst apart like a fragile eggshell, dispersing into countless fragnts of luminous mist before dissolving into nothingness.

Standing in the aftermath, two figures were revealed—two incredibly breathtaking won whose appearances had been elevated to near-perfection by the Supre Human transformation.

His aunt, Liz, had always been a mil... ahem, beauty, a woman whose natural elegance and confidence could captivate even the most disciplined of n.

But now? Now she was simply otherworldly. Her figure, already enticing, had refined itself to divine proportions.

She exuded power, wisdom, and an allure so potent that she could command armies with a re glance.

Her once subtle curves were now perfectly balanced between strength and sensuality.

Her hair, longer and more lustrous, cascaded down her back like silken waves, and her erald eyes held an unearthly glow.

Then there was Layla.

If Liz was a goddess in her own right, then Layla was a heart-stopping storm of youthful, vibrant beauty.

Her playful and mischievous deanor had always given her an undeniable charm, but now she had ascended into a league of her own.

Every inch of her radiated confidence and energy, a perfectly sculpted form that carried a subtle but undeniable authority.

Her deep brown eyes sparkled like molten gold, frad by dark lashes that could snare a man’s soul.

Her once petite stature had shifted slightly, her form lean yet deceptively powerful, her presence as electrifying as a thunderclap in a silent night.

Watts stood there, montarily dazed.

It wasn’t just their beauty that stunned him—it was the sheer presence they exuded. They weren’t just ordinary won anymore; they were forces of nature in human form.

And of course, Layla, ever the instigator, noticed his expression instantly.

"Oi, don’t tell you’re smitten by your own sister," she teased, grinning with satisfaction.

Watts, snapping out of his trance, smirked in return, refusing to let her get the upper hand.

"Nah, forget about you, little girl. Look at the real woman here." He gestured dramatically toward Liz, a smug grin on his face.

Layla’s triumphant expression twisted into one of pure fury. "LITTLE GIRL?! Are you kidding ?" She clenched her fists, her face heating up in indignation.