Creation Of All Things-Chapter 227: You Not Gods

The skies didn’t move. The stars didn’t shimmer.

Only Adam.

He stood in the center of the Celestial Plane, the lock still rippling like a suppressed heartbeat across space. The gods that had been watching, circling, whispering from on high—all began to descend. Slowly. Cautiously. Like wolves unsure if the prey was actually a lion.

The battlefield cleared itself.

Kael’Thar growled from above but stopped fighting. Even he could feel it.

This was something different.

Aurora rejoined Alice and Joshua, watching with narrowed eyes.

And then—Adam spoke.

"You call yourselves gods," he said, his voice calm, steady, final. "But what have you done with that power?"

None of them answered.

He stepped forward. No resistance. Even gravity moved out of his way.

"You hoard divinity like children holding torches in a storm. Claiming holiness while building castles on suffering."

The gods stiffened. Some clenched weapons. Others looked at Mael—but Mael was still frozen in the lock. Silent. Breathing. Powerless.

Adam raised his voice, just enough to carry.

"Creation gave you gifts. What did you do with them? Turned them into empires. Turned mortals into tools. Turned yourselves into myths."

He pointed at the Council.

"You hold judgment over worlds. Rewrite lives like you’re scribbling on napkins. And when someone steps out of line, when someone becomes too powerful—you try to erase them."

The wind picked up. Not normal wind. Something deeper. Like reality inhaling.

Adam’s eyes scanned the crowd.

"You’re not gods."

He stepped again. The air pulsed.

"You’re tyrants. Pretending to be divine. Ruling by fear. Controlled by prophecy. Afraid of anyone who doesn’t kneel."

He raised his hand.

"You took my world."

He clenched it.

"You took my son."

His other hand rose.

"You took my name."

The ground cracked.

"And now, I’m here to take it all back."

The gods stirred. Their auras flared like suns.

Adam didn’t move.

He just said two words.

"Come then."

And the skies exploded.

BOOM—

The first wave hit him like a meteor storm. Light, flame, thunder, wind, shadow—twenty gods rushed down at once, divine spears and weapons lighting up the heavens like a cosmic battlefield.

Adam raised his arm.

One swing.

CRASH—

A shockwave ripped out from his body. The ground shattered like ice beneath a falling star. Three gods flew backward, ribs splintering. One lost a limb. Another hit the wall of the plane and disappeared in dust.

Still, more came.

A god of storms hurled lightning dragons toward him.

Adam grabbed one mid-air—ripped it in half—and threw it into the sky.

The storm god screamed. Adam punched once. The scream stopped.

Alice moved.

Five gods turned their attention to her—trying to trap her in mirrored space.

She blinked through the folds.

Her crown expanded—an endless circle of refracting prisms.

"Space bends for me," she whispered.

A sphere of shattered dimensions spun outward—like an implosion turned inside out.

Three gods disappeared instantly.

"Next."

Joshua danced through divine fire, his wings burning bright—white and black trails ripping the sky.

He clashed with a goddess of balance—her eyes mirrored, her body made of scale and judgment.

She tried to bind him with truth.

He cut through it.

Her scales cracked.

His spear sank through her chest.

"Half of me’s god," he said, pulling it free. "The other half doesn’t play fair."

He turned just in time to parry a beam of judgment with a whip of hellfire. Spun, kicked, stabbed, rolled—

The battlefield shook with every pulse of his bloodline.

Aurora raised her eyes.

Ten gods tried to predict her steps. Tried to seal her fate.

But she erased each future as they formed.

"Eclipse Rewrite," she whispered.

Her blade carved through probability.

Time stuttered around her.

She became blur. Then beam. Then blade.

One by one, the gods around her dropped.

Not dead.

Wiped.

Like they’d never been there at all.

"Do not measure me with a ruler you made," she said coldly, eyes glowing pitch black.

Back to Adam—

A god of beasts leapt at him—massive, scaled, monstrous.

Adam caught the head.

Slammed it down.

And again.

And again.

Until the god stopped moving.

Another attacked from behind—wielding a blade forged in ancient law.

Adam turned and broke it with his bare hand.

The god stepped back, stunned.

Adam touched his forehead.

"You were warned."

BOOM—

The god collapsed, aura shattered.

Above them, divine cannons fired—high gods launching celestial artillery from miles above. Each blast could level a continent.

Adam opened his palm.

"Collapse."

Every beam folded inward before they could land—sucked into a singular point in his hand.

He closed it.

The energy disappeared.

He looked up.

"No."

He jumped.

CRACK—

The skies tore.

Adam flew up, straight through divine armor, straight through gods mid-flight. His hands slammed down onto the cannon fortress.

With a grunt—he ripped it apart.

It exploded behind him as he dove, catching another god mid-fall.

They landed. The crater was instant.

Joshua was surrounded.

Three gods formed a chain of synergy—speed, pressure, balance. They moved like one.

He smirked.

"You really think teamwork matters when one of us is a chaos child?"

His wings flared—then shifted.

One feather dropped.

The world slowed.

He weaved through their perfect attacks like smoke, like whisper, like nightmare.

His spear snapped—then duplicated.

He fought with two.

One stabbed time.

The other stabbed soul.

They screamed as they fell.

Alice wasn’t done.

Five gods now. All with spatial abilities. Trying to overwhelm her.

"Copy me?" she laughed softly.

"You can’t even stand on the same axis."

The rings behind her spun.

"Absolute Domain: Fractal Labyrinth."

They screamed. Because they were already lost.

Their senses spun. Their positions glitched. The world looped around them like a cruel mirror house.

And in every reflection—

Alice.

Smiling.

"Collapse."

Their bodies hit the ground at once.

Aurora held the line.

Dozens came at her now. Prophets, angels, watchers.

"Future. Erased."

One slash.

"Timeline. Muted."

One blink.

"Prophecy. Denied."

One step.

She was poetry and ruin all at once.

When they fell, they fell not just in body, but in purpose.

And Adam...

Still hadn’t slowed.

He fought five now. All Celestial High-Ranks. Once worshipped. Once feared.

They circled him.

He cracked his knuckles.

"Alright."

He stomped once.

Reality cracked like a dropped mirror.

He punched upward.

The first exploded.

Spun.

Elbowed the second.

It folded inward.

The third lunged. Divine spear. Enchanted.

Adam caught it.

And ate it—converted it to mana, and blew fire from his mouth like a beast.

The fourth god shrieked.

Adam didn’t even look—just pointed.

The god vanished. Gone from memory.

And the fifth?

Tried to flee.

Adam whispered a single word.

"Return."

The god came back—dragged by reality itself.

Adam waved.

"Bye."

He crushed him beneath one palm.

Silence.

Only Kael’Thar roared in the distance.

Only dust moved.

And Mael...

Still locked.

Adam turned.

The gods were scattered. Groaning. Broken. Weakened. No longer divine in presence. Just quiet.

Joshua landed beside him, panting.

Alice wiped blood from her cheek.

Aurora, covered in divine ash, met his gaze.

"You done?"

Adam nodded.

"Now..."

He turned toward Mael.

"...we finish this."

Mael, still unmoving, stared through the lock.

And this time—

He looked like he understood.

Adam raised his hand.

The lock shuddered.

Next—

Was war. Real war.

And this time...

The gods wouldn’t win.