The Omnipotent System

God Ascension Plane, 20 years later

"So, what's this I'm hearing about Mother starting a charity house?" a young man in his twenties remarked with a casual grin, his long black hair cascading over his shoulders. His golden eyes glinted with mischief, yet there was a flicker of weariness hidden beneath his confident posture.

This was Adams Albert, the most feared and dangerous man in the God Ascension Plane, known far and wide by the moniker "the Phenomenal Cultivator." His nickname wasn't just for show; every time he learned a new technique, created one, or even practiced a different form of cultivation, a phenomenon would be triggered—an event that once fascinated but now bored him.

It had become a tiresome side effect of his overwhelming power. In his heart, he often wished for a simpler existence, free from the cosmic reactions his every move provoked.

Laden, his father, stood beside him, arms crossed with an amused but stern expression, his brows furrowing slightly. "First of all, it's not a charity house," Laden corrected, his voice deep with paternal authority. "It's an orphanage for the less privileged. And secondly, don't you have some big brother duties to fulfill?"

Adams let out a soft chuckle, a smirk forming on his lips. His stance shifted as he leaned back slightly, folding his arms across his chest in a relaxed but defiant manner. "Oh, Lovigary? I gave him a few exercises to work on," he said, a glint of humor flashing in his eyes as he looked over at his father. "Which means I've done my big brotherly duty for the day."

Laden's expression softened just a touch, though a flicker of exasperation crossed his features. He gave his son a knowing glance, shaking his head slightly but unable to hide a hint of a smile.

Adams, however, turned his attention elsewhere, his gaze drifting toward the distance. His golden eyes narrowed slightly as he felt a familiar presence—aura unmistakably his mother's, accompanied by several unknown energies.

"Mother, you're really going all out with this charity work of yours," Adams remarked, his voice softer but with a trace of genuine curiosity. He took a few steps forward, his eyes sharpening as they landed on the small group approaching. Children of all kinds, from various species, walked behind his mother, each one distinctly different in appearance.

Among them were a few humans, but the diversity was striking—beings of different races, each radiating a different story.

His mother, Aria, stood at the front of the group, her warm smile reaching all the way to her eyes as she led the children toward them. There was a gentleness to her aura, a nurturing energy that made her seem like a beacon of safety to the little ones surrounding her. She caught Adams' gaze, her expression soft but knowing, a mother's quiet pride reflecting in her eyes.

Adams, though maintaining his usual air of nonchalance, felt a twinge of something deeper. His smirk faded ever so slightly as he watched the kids, most of them looking up at his mother with wide-eyed admiration. He blinked, and for a brief moment, the hardened facade he usually carried seemed to crack.

"Charity or not," he muttered under his breath, "you're really something else, Mother."

As the children drew closer, their laughter and chatter filled the air, bringing a liveliness to the space that contrasted sharply with the usual stillness of Adams' world. The man who could shake planes with a thought stood quietly, observing them with a mixture of quiet amusement and curiosity, a slight tilt of his head betraying his intrigue.

Laden, watching his son's subtle reaction, smiled knowingly. "It seems you've got more to learn from your mother than just cultivation techniques, Adams."

Adams let out a small huff, shaking his head but saying nothing. He knew his father was right—Aria had a strength that didn't come from raw power, but from something deeper, something that couldn't be cultivated. For the first time in a long while, Adams found himself in the presence of something he couldn't quite understand or control.

And that, perhaps, was more intriguing to him than any technique he'd ever mastered.

Life in the God Ascension Plane carried on, and the days seemed to blend together with a serene rhythm. Adams, who once found the constant phenomena that followed him exhausting, had settled into a new routine—one where his life was filled not just with cultivation and power, but with family and unexpected joys.

Aria, his mother, had fully established the orphanage, much to Adams' surprise and, secretly, his admiration. Though he never said it aloud, he found himself drawn to the children she had taken in—beings from different races, each with their own stories of hardship. He would stand on the outskirts of their gatherings, arms crossed, pretending to be uninterested as they played or trained.

But Aria always saw through him. Her soft smiles as she caught her son observing the children with quiet curiosity spoke volumes, though she never teased him for it. Adams' pride wouldn't allow it, and Althea knew better than to shatter the thin layer of aloofness her son wore.

Time moved on, and with it came new life. One day, news spread across the God Ascension Plane that Aria was expecting twins. The excitement in the air was palpable, but it was nothing compared to the wave of power that surged through the heavens when they were born.

Lokk and Arianna arrived on a bright, clear day. The sky seemed to shimmer with the energy of their birth. Lokk, with his father's blonde hair and green eyes, was the perfect image of Laden, while Arianna was a blend of both parents—half of her hair as dark as her mother's and the other half blonde like her father's. Her eyes were a captivating mix of gold and green, both vibrant and mysterious.

When Adams first laid eyes on his newborn siblings, something shifted in him. The legendary cultivator, known for his unshakable power and fearsome reputation, stood quietly at the door, gazing at the two tiny forms wrapped in soft blankets. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by something softer, almost reverent.

His mother was exhausted but glowing with happiness as she held them both close, her eyes meeting Adams'. For a moment, no words were needed. The pride in her gaze said everything.

Arianna was special, even by their family's standards. It wasn't long after her birth that the entire God Ascension Plane trembled with the realization of what she possessed—true immortality. Not just a long life or near invulnerability, but the inability to die, ever. It sent waves across the plane, and powerful beings began to take notice.

To possess immortality in its truest form was rare, even among the gods, and Arianna's presence marked the beginning of something new, something unknown.

Despite the power that surrounded his siblings, Adams loved them fiercely. Lokk, the more adventurous of the two, constantly followed his older brother around, eager to learn and train. Arianna, quiet and observant, would watch them from the sidelines, her unique presence always felt, even in silence.

Adams took on the role of a big brother with surprising dedication. Though he often grumbled about it, he never missed an opportunity to train with Lovigary and Lokk, guiding them through exercises with a patience that seemed uncharacteristic of the man known for his overwhelming strength.

And though Arianna didn't need much protection, Adams still found himself keeping an eye on her, as if her immortality wasn't enough to ease his instincts to protect.

Meanwhile, the orphanage flourished under Althea's care, and Adams became more involved than he ever thought possible. He found himself drawn to a select few of the children—those whose potential stood out to him, not just in terms of power, but in spirit.

There was Saryna, a dark elf with a sharp mind and an even sharper wit. Her cold exterior masked a deep desire to prove herself, and Adams saw in her a reflection of the determination he once had.

Ulthra, the giantess with a split personality, was a challenge. Her dual nature often caused chaos, one side calm and gentle while the other was fierce and uncontrollable. Adams found himself intrigued by her, teaching her not just how to control her strength but how to balance the war within her.

Varek and Veloria, the vampire siblings, were almost opposites. Varek was calculated and ruthless, while Veloria was compassionate and warm. Adams knew the power they possessed as vampires, but he saw in them the potential for even greater strength, tempered by wisdom.

Ulfang, the orc, had raw power but lacked discipline. Adams drilled him relentlessly, knowing that if Ulfang could harness his energy, he would be a force unlike any other.

Zelorn, a fae with a mischievous streak, often tested Adams' patience. But there was something about the fae's lightheartedness that Adams found refreshing, even if he wouldn't admit it.

Then there was Xynis, the lich, and Veloria's best friend. Quiet and introspective, Xynis sought knowledge over power. Adams admired his thirst for understanding, guiding him toward ancient techniques long forgotten by the undead.

Fenris, a beast man, and Thraxis, a dragon, were among the more physical students. Their training sessions often ended in spectacular displays of power, and Adams couldn't help but enjoy the challenge they posed.

The demon siblings, Gorrath and Amara, were relentless in their pursuit of strength, each with their own demons to battle—both literally and figuratively. Adams pushed them hard, knowing that their inner conflicts would one day fuel their ascent.

Myrris and Ember, the Phoenixes, had a rivalry that burned as brightly as their flames. Adams often let them fight it out during training, stepping in only when the flames threatened to get out of control.

Gabriel, the four-winged celestial, carried himself with a calm nobility. Adams had a soft spot for him, though he never showed it. Gabriel's quiet wisdom reminded him of something beyond power—something spiritual.

Elfreda, the elf, and Drax, another dragon and Lovigary's best friend, were both quick learners, absorbing everything Adams taught them like sponges.

Each of these children became more than just students to Adams. He didn't call them his disciples, but they were family to him in every sense of the word. He trained them with the same intensity and care he showed his own siblings, pushing them to their limits but always watching over them.

For a time, everything seemed perfect. Life had fallen into a peaceful rhythm, with Adams juggling his duties as a cultivator, brother, and mentor. His personal students flourished under his guidance, and his family grew closer with each passing day.

But peace, as always, was fleeting.

The winds changed, the skies darkened, and something sinister began to creep into the God Ascension Plane. A disaster unlike any other was brewing on the horizon, and even Adams, with all his power, couldn't stop the feeling of impending doom that gnawed at the back of his mind.

Everything was about to change.