The Omnipotent System

The oppressive energy from Adams's declaration rippled outward, an unfathomable presence rolling across the entire hall, then expanding far beyond. His Domain Expansion wasn't contained to the walls around him; it reached through layers of existence, through realms, and dimensions, rippling across the Omniverse with the force of an unstoppable wave. Every creature, every being across infinite worlds, felt the silent whisper of a presence that defied all, an aura so potent it struck fear even into the heart of entities who had ruled their planes for millennia.

A shockwave trembled outward, disrupting the very fabric of reality. In distant realms, powerful warriors paused mid-battle, weapons faltering in their grip. Divine beings seated on thrones of celestial light looked up, their regal expressions flickering with shock as a shudder of something darker, an instinctive fear, crept into their expressions. What manner of power could hold such terrible weight? whispered a deity on the Luminal Plane, his voice an echo lost in the wind. His followers, unaware of what he sensed, gazed up in confusion, watching as their god's divine aura dimmed, its brilliance paled by the distant, indomitable shadow cast by Adams's might.

On the Abyssal Plane, where demons reveled in chaos and conquest, a deep rumble stilled the writhing masses. The fiercest demons—ancient, immortal beings that fed off destruction—froze. A Dark Prince, clad in armor forged from the remnants of countless fallen worlds, stared into the void, his eyes narrowing. His smug expression fell away as he felt the tide of Adams's aura pass over him like a cold, unyielding wave, leaving him feeling as small as a mortal in the presence of something infinite. His servants murmured nervously as he clenched his fists, concealing the tremble within. "This is… beyond godly," he whispered, unable to fully comprehend the sheer vastness of what he felt.

Elsewhere, on the Realm of Elementals, beings made entirely of energy and raw elements quaked, their forms flickering in discordant hues. The Primordial Flame, a blazing figure embodying the essence of fire, collapsed into embers before flickering back to life. "Impossible," it hissed, tendrils of fire dissipating into smoke. "Such a presence… I am but a spark in comparison." Continue exploring at m|vl-em,py-r

But the reach of Adams's aura didn't end there. It touched even the lowest planes, where mortal beings lived ordinary lives, unaware of the forces that governed the worlds beyond their sight. Mortals across countless worlds—humans, elves, giants, and countless others—felt the faintest ripple in their hearts, a strange unease like a premonition, a feeling that something cosmic and boundless had stirred far, far beyond their reach. It was an instinct, buried in their souls, reminding them that somewhere in the vastness of the Omniverse, something had awakened.

In the Deva's Plane, a plane of near-divine beings and celestial lights that wove through endless cities of glass and gold, beings with radiant forms paused. They stood tall, towering figures with skin that gleamed like polished marble, eyes of pure white radiating an ancient wisdom. Their clothing flowed like living light, draped in hues that shimmered and danced like the sky at dawn. They walked with an elegance that bespoke centuries of refinement, of rule over the highest peaks of creation.

In the deepest part of their realm, where even the highest Devas seldom dared to tread, lay a dark chasm known as the Overlord's Hole. Here, the architecture twisted into jagged shadows, the light itself dimmed as though reluctant to penetrate its depths. And at the heart of this forsaken place, bound by chains of ethereal metal, a young woman hung, her body suspended above a cracked, cold platform. The chains bit into her flesh, leaving raw, bleeding wounds that stained her pale skin. Below her, a rune glowed dimly, pulsating as if alive, feeding on her suffering, drawing strength from the very essence of her being.

Her figure was thin, weakened, but even in her state of despair, there was an unmistakable grace to her form. Her long hair spilled down her back, its colors a striking duality—one side a deep raven black, the other a brilliant blonde. Her face, beautiful even in torment, was marked with lines of pain etched by years of silent suffering. She hung limply, her body sagging in her restraints, breaths shallow, as though life itself were slipping from her.

But then, as the wave of Adams's Domain reached her, she stirred. The aura washed over her like a breeze from a distant storm, a breath of something familiar yet indescribably powerful. Slowly, her eyelids fluttered, and she lifted her head, every movement a struggle, every inch resisted by the biting chains. Her eyes opened, revealing irises that swirled with a blend of emerald and gold, a depth and vibrancy that seemed untouched by the pain surrounding her.

Her lips parted, and though her voice was faint, hoarse from disuse, there was a spark—a flicker of hope that hadn't been there before. "Brother…," she whispered, her voice carrying a quiet strength, a tenderness that cut through the silence of her prison. "You are… finally back." Her lips curved into a weak smile, a single tear tracing down her cheek as she clung to the faint glimmer of hope, an anchor in her desolate world.

The faint glow in her eyes flickered, mixing with the pain, as she gazed into the void beyond her prison, her expression a mix of relief and longing. Her fingers twitched, straining against the chains, her wrists raw and bleeding from her efforts. The metal cut deeper with every tremor of her movement, but she didn't care. There was something beyond the pain now—a connection, a resonance that reminded her of home, of a time before the darkness.

The Devas sensed it too. In their halls of glass, in their towers of light, they paused, expressions twisting from serene detachment to worry. They felt a fracture in their world, a stirring in the heart of their hidden secret. Whispers echoed through their ranks as they exchanged glances, their radiant faces marred with unease. They knew who resided in the Overlord's Hole, knew the power she held even in her weakened state. And now, the presence they had feared, the one they had hoped would never return, was unmistakably here, casting its long shadow over them.

But for the girl in chains, Adams's arrival meant something different. She tilted her head back, her gaze distant, looking past the walls of her prison as though she could see him—her brother, the one she had waited lifetimes for. Her weakened body trembled with a mixture of relief and determination. In the depths of her eyes, hope flickered brighter, stoking the fire that had lain dormant, kept alive by nothing but the sheer force of her will.

"Brother," she murmured again, her voice barely audible, but within it, a newfound strength resonated, a spark of defiance aimed at her captors. "I knew you would come." She held on to that certainty, letting it fill the void that had surrounded her, letting it steady her as she prepared for the storm that was sure to come.

And as Adams's aura expanded, reaching deeper, bending reality with the gravity of his presence, the Devas knew that the time for hiding was over.

Ashura's Plane

Adams gazed down at the Ashura King and his general, his eyes an unwavering blend of rage and profound disdain. His expression was calm, but the weight behind his words carried a venomous promise that hung thick in the air, suffocating in its intensity. The hall seemed to darken as his voice resounded, each word pronounced with an almost surgical precision.

"For the unforgivable crime you have committed against me and my family," he began, his voice so low it seemed to chill the bones of everyone who heard it. The Ashura King's face twisted, an involuntary tremor running through his powerful form, yet he clenched his jaw, trying to muster some semblance of defiance. The general, on the other hand, stood paralyzed, his once-fierce eyes now flickering with a thinly veiled dread, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned pale.

Adams continued, his gaze unwavering. "I hereby declare your race extinct across the Omniverse."

The words sank in like a blade. The Ashura King faltered, a brief flash of horror breaking through his mask of fury. The general's shoulders slumped as if the weight of his impending fate had crushed his spirit entirely. Their breaths came shallow, beads of sweat gathering as Adams' condemnation continued, each sentence punctuated with an unbreakable finality.

"There will be no escape. No chance of reincarnation. Your souls," Adams said, his voice hardening, "will be condemned to eternal suffering. Suspended in a state of agony, pain, torment… beyond death, beyond release."

The King's fists clenched in a futile burst of rage, his eyes darting as if searching for some escape, any reprieve from this impending nightmare. His pride had once been his shield, his weapon, but now it was cracking under the relentless force of Adams' judgment. The general, usually stoic, shivered despite himself, his lips parting as if he wanted to speak, to plead, but his voice seemed strangled, choked back by terror.

"Since you longed so deeply for immortality," Adams continued, his tone almost mocking in its cold gentleness, "then so shall you have it… in your own personal hell."

Adams' words sank in, and an oppressive silence filled the hall. The Ashura King's eyes, once blazing with fury, now seemed lost, flickering with the desperation of someone cornered, his once powerful stature now heavy with the weight of impending damnation. The general swallowed hard, his eyes wide and haunted, as if he had already begun to feel the fires of eternal torment licking at his soul.

Adams stood over them, a figure of terrifying calm, the finality of his words hanging in the air like a noose tightening around their necks. His gaze was distant yet piercing, as if he could already see their descent into the hell he had crafted for them—a fitting punishment for a crime that could never be forgiven.