Arin

ℜ𝔢𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 ℭ𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔬𝔯

Creator: Me

Arin, born powerless in a world of magic, endures years of betrayal and humiliation. After a devastating betrayal on his wedding day, he transforms into The Creator, a being of god-like power, and seeks revenge by rewriting reality and destroying those who wronged him.

~Here start my story~~

In a world where power was everything, there lived a young man named Arin. From the moment he was born, the world saw him as inferior. People were born with powers—magical abilities that ranged from rare to epic, legendary, and even mythical. At the pinnacle of this hierarchy stood the Ultimates, those whose power surpassed anything the world had ever seen. But Arin was different. He was born without a single trace of magic.

His family, members of the Ultimates themselves, abandoned him as soon as they realized he had no powers. His father, a powerful Ultimate, rejected him without a second thought. His mother, a legendary healer, turned her back on him, saying that a child with no magic had no place in their world. They left him in the care of distant relatives who had no power but still treated him as a burden, a reminder of their family's failure.

Arin's daily life was one of torment. In school, he was mocked and bullied by classmates who were born with powers that could change the world. They'd taunt him, calling him useless, weak, and an embarrassment. Arin was never given a chance to show what he was capable of, for in their eyes, his lack of magic made him nothing. Even in his own home, he was left to fend for himself, ignored by the people who were supposed to love him.

Days turned into years, and Arin's heart became numb to the world's cruelty. He had no friends, no family, and no hope. Yet, despite everything, he kept going, finding solace in the simplest things—books, nature, and small acts of kindness from strangers. But even those couldn't fill the void left by his inability to belong.

Then, one fateful day, a miracle happened. Her name was Lyra, a beautiful girl with radiant silver hair and eyes that shimmered like stars. She was everything Arin had ever dreamed of—strong, confident, and kind. What caught his attention most, however, was her power. She was born with a mythical power, one that could move mountains and control the elements. Despite her incredible strength, Lyra saw something in Arin that no one else had ever noticed. She didn't care that he had no powers. She loved him for who he was—a kind, determined soul who had never given up on life despite all the adversity.

For the first time in his life, Arin felt loved. Lyra protected him, shielding him from the world's cruelty. She became his strength, his beacon of hope. Together, they built a life filled with love and laughter, and Arin felt as if, for once, he had a place in this world.

But as the years passed, something inside Lyra began to change. The love that once flourished between them began to wither. Arin's lack of power, once insignificant to her, became more glaring. She had grown bored of his limitations, and the love she once felt for him faded into indifference. The man who had once been her world was now a burden she no longer wished to carry.

One day, in a public display that shattered Arin's heart, Lyra announced that she had found someone new—someone with a power that rivaled her own. A man named Kael, a mythical power-wielder who had everything that Arin lacked. Lyra humiliated Arin in front of their friends and allies, ridiculing him for his weakness and telling him that he was no longer worthy of her love. The world that had once seemed cruel to Arin now felt like a nightmare.

In that moment, something inside Arin broke. The pain of rejection, of years of being told he was nothing, consumed him. He had given everything to Lyra, and in the end, she had discarded him like everyone else. As she walked away with Kael, Arin stood alone in the crowd, the weight of his powerless existence crashing down on him.

But amidst the pain and humiliation, Arin did something he had never done before—he looked up. For the first time, he saw the world around him differently. The absence of magic, the emptiness that had once defined him, was not a curse. It was his greatest strength. He realized that while others had power, he had something they lacked: the ability to change, to grow, to rise above their expectations.

With renewed determination, Arin decided that he would no longer be a victim of his circumstances. He would forge his own path, one not defined by magic or the expectations of others. He would find his own power, not in spells or ancient artifacts, but in his heart, his will to live, and his desire to prove that even without magic, he could be something great.

Arin's life after Lyra's betrayal was a bitter blend of loneliness, anger, and helplessness. The world around him had always been cruel, but now, it felt like everyone took pleasure in reminding him of his worthlessness. His ex-girlfriend, Lyra, seemed determined to make his life even more unbearable. Whenever their paths crossed, she would sneer at him, mock his lack of power, and remind him that he would never be good enough for her, nor for anyone else.

She would circulate rumors about him, claiming that he was weak, pathetic, and a failure. Every cruel word, every snide remark from her left a scar, but Arin never showed it. He learned to endure, to push the pain aside. He spent his days wandering through the streets, seeking small comforts in the mundane—watching the sun rise, reading books at the local library, or observing the world around him, trying to make sense of the chaos that filled his life.

Despite the pain, there was still a flicker of hope inside him, a stubborn belief that things could get better. But every time he thought he was beginning to heal, Lyra's actions and the cruel world would remind him that magic and power ruled everything.

One evening, as Arin was walking through the city, he received a letter in the mail. It was from his parents—his ex-parents, the Ultimates who had abandoned him years ago. They were hosting a grand party for the elite of the world, a gathering of powerful families, legendary figures, and mythical beings. The invitation seemed more like a mockery than an actual gesture of goodwill. It was an event where power, status, and wealth were everything, and Arin, powerless and insignificant, was not meant to belong.

But a deep part of him, a part that had long been buried under years of rejection and pain, decided he would go. He wasn't invited, but that didn't matter. This was his chance to show the world that he wasn't defined by the magic they so highly valued. He slipped into the event unnoticed, wearing plain clothes, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn't sure what he hoped to find there, but he knew he needed to see for himself what life had turned into for the people who had cast him aside.

When he entered the grand hall, the opulence of it all nearly overwhelmed him. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the guests—each more powerful than the last—milled about, talking and laughing as if their power made them superior to everyone else. Arin felt out of place, like a speck of dust in a world of perfection. But he refused to leave. He walked around quietly, observing the guests, trying to remain unnoticed.

Then, his ex-parents arrived.

His father, towering and imposing, was flanked by other Ultimates—people who were legends in their own right. His mother, graceful and commanding, stood by his side. As soon as they saw Arin, their faces twisted in disgust. His father sneered, as if seeing the dirt beneath his feet. His mother's eyes flared with a look of shame, as though her very bloodline had been sullied by his presence.

"What are you doing here?" his father's voice boomed, loud enough for everyone to hear. "We don't have a child like you."

The words hit Arin like a physical blow. He had heard them before, but hearing them again, in front of such a powerful crowd, in such a humiliating manner, was unbearable. His mother stepped forward, her voice dripping with contempt.

"Look at you," she said. "A pathetic nobody. A failure. What could you possibly be doing here? Do you really think you belong with us? With them?"

The guests, who had been minding their own business, all turned to stare. Murmurs spread through the crowd as they watched Arin—the powerless, worthless son of the Ultimates—stand there, humiliated, as his parents made a spectacle of his existence.

His ex-parents mocked him openly, as if his entire life was a joke. His father laughed coldly, saying, "You were nothing from the start, and you'll always be nothing. Don't fool yourself into thinking you could ever rise above your place in life."

Every word they spoke felt like it pierced his heart. They treated him as if he was less than a person, as if his entire existence had been a mistake.

The other guests laughed along, some even making snide comments about his pathetic appearance, his lack of magic. They whispered among themselves, adding to the cruelty of the moment.

Arin wanted to leave. He wanted to run far away and escape the suffocating presence of his past, but his legs felt like lead. He stood there, frozen, absorbing the insults, each one more damaging than the last. For a brief moment, the years of pain and rejection flooded back in a wave, threatening to drown him. But deep within, something stirred.

A quiet resolve began to take root in his heart. He wasn't going to let them break him. He wasn't going to let them define who he was, not anymore.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Arin turned and walked away. He didn't shout, he didn't retaliate—he simply left. But in that moment, something inside him shifted. The pain was still there, the humiliation still stung, but the anger had ignited a fire within him. He would never forget what they had done to him, but instead of letting it destroy him, he would use it as fuel to prove to the world that he was worth more than they could ever imagine.

Arin knew the road ahead would be long and difficult. But he was done being weak. He was done being invisible. This was just the beginning of a new chapter—a chapter where he would reclaim his own destiny, no matter how impossible it seemed.

Arin's heart pounded in his chest as he slowly made his way out of the grand hall, trying to escape the suffocating humiliation, but just as he reached the door, a heavy pressure slammed into his body.

His vision blurred, and his body was crushed against an invisible force, as if the very air around him was turning to stone. The next thing he knew, he was lifted off the ground and dragged back into the center of the hall.

He crashed to the floor in front of everyone, blood pouring from his nose, his lip split open, his chest aching with the impact. His body trembled in pain, but there was nothing he could do.

He was helpless, crushed under the weight of not just the magical force, but the weight of everything that had led him here.

Lyra's new boyfriend, Kael, stood with a smug grin on his face, his eyes cold and unfeeling. His power, a sheer force that seemed to warp the space around him, had crushed Arin with the flick of his wrist. The crowd stared in awe at Kael's power, but Arin could barely focus on the scene. His vision was blurred, and the world around him felt distant, his body screaming in agony.

But what hurt the most wasn't the pain in his body. It was the words that followed.

Arin's ex-parents, standing beside Kael, looked on with pride as if this was some great victory. His father, whose once-icy gaze was now warm with approval, spoke in a voice that echoed through the hall.

"If we had a son like him," he said, his voice full of praise, "we would be so much happier.

Someone with strength, someone who could actually make a difference in this world, not someone like... him."

The words stung more than anything else he had ever heard. His parents—the very people who had abandoned him when they realized he had no magic—were now praising another man for doing to him exactly what they had never cared to do: crush him. They didn't even see him as their son anymore.

To them, he was nothing. They had been embarrassed by him for years, and now they celebrated the power that Arin lacked.

Arin's body shook in agony, and his breath came in ragged gasps. His ex-parents, the ones who had given him life, who had once been the only people he thought could ever care for him, had just proven to him that he was nothing more than a disappointment. That feeling of abandonment, of worthlessness, clawed at him once more.

It wasn't just the physical pain that tore him apart; it was the realization that the two people who were supposed to love him, had completely rejected him, choosing to idolize the man who had just hurt him.

As if that wasn't enough, Lyra, the one person he thought truly understood him, walked into the room. Her eyes met his, but they were different now—cold, indifferent. She glanced down at him with a mix of annoyance and pity, her lips curling into a mocking smile.

"You were always so deluded, Arin," she said, her voice cutting through the air. "I don't know why I ever wasted my time with you. You were just... a distraction."

Arin's heart sank as she continued, her words shattering whatever little hope he had left.

"I couldn't stand how you always thought you were enough," Lyra said, her gaze flickering toward Kael, who stood confidently by her side.

"Even when I was with you, I was thinking about him. I just made excuses to be away from you so I could sneak off to see Kael behind your back. You were just... an afterthought. A placeholder."

Her words hit him harder than the blow that had crushed his body. Arin's entire existence, the love he had given her, the years he had spent believing she cared, all of it had been a lie. She wasn't even pretending anymore.

And then, as if to rub salt in the wound, Lyra pulled out her phone and showed Arin a picture—an intimate picture of her and Kael. They were together, tangled in a way that only lovers could be, their faces flushed with pleasure. The image was a gut punch, the final nail in his coffin. His ex-girlfriend, the woman he had loved so deeply, had been lying to him all along, sneaking around with another man, and now she was proudly showing him how much better Kael was than him.

"Look at it, Arin," she said coldly, holding the picture up to his face. "This is what I wanted. This is who I really wanted. You were just... convenient for a time. But now, I've got someone who actually matters. Someone powerful."

Arin's eyes blurred with tears, but he refused to cry in front of them. His fists clenched, but the pain was too much. He felt like his very soul was being torn apart. Lyra had never loved him. His parents had never loved him.

The world had never cared about him. All the pain, all the rejection, all the years of living in the shadows of those with power—it all rushed back in that moment.

But in the depths of his despair, something inside him finally broke free. The pain, the anger, the humiliation—they fueled something inside him.

It was as if the years of being crushed beneath the weight of other people's power had awakened a fire within him. He wasn't sure where it came from, but for the first time, he felt a sense of clarity.

Arin would no longer let the world decide who he was. No longer would he be the weak, powerless fool they all thought he was. He had been broken down, humiliated, and abandoned—but that didn't mean he had to stay down. The path ahead wouldn't be easy, and he didn't know how he would do it, but Arin vowed one thing: he would rise.

And one day, the people who had crushed him would regret the day they ever thought he was nothing.

The laughter echoed in Arin's ears long after they had thrown him out. It was as if the whole world had turned into a cruel joke, and he was the punchline. The crowd's mocking voices, the harsh words from his parents and ex-girlfriend, and the feeling of being discarded like trash all combined into a suffocating darkness that consumed him.

For days, Arin wandered the streets, aimlessly, numb to the world. He had no home, no purpose, no will to live anymore. The pain of rejection had hollowed him out. He felt like a ghost, drifting through a world that didn't care if he existed or not. He thought about ending it all, but the thought of doing so seemed too final, too irreversible. So, he just kept walking, through the streets, through his misery, not knowing where he was going, just knowing he couldn't stay where he was anymore.

It was then that fate intervened.

One day, as he sat on a cold, abandoned bench in the corner of the city, his body bruised and bloodied from the events of that night, a soft voice broke through the fog of his thoughts.

"Are you alright?"

Arin lifted his head, startled. A young woman stood in front of him, her warm brown eyes filled with concern. She was dressed simply, her clothes not extravagant, but there was a kindness in her gaze that made Arin pause, something he hadn't seen in so long. He didn't speak, not at first. He was too ashamed to speak, too numb to even form a sentence.

The woman knelt down in front of him, placing a hand gently on his arm.

"You look like you're in pain. What happened to you?" she asked softly, her voice full of genuine care.

Arin didn't answer, only looked away, not wanting to burden her with his story, not wanting her to see how broken he was. But the woman was persistent. She didn't press him for details, but she didn't leave him either.

She could see the despair in his eyes, and she couldn't walk away from someone in such pain.

"I can help you," she said, after a long silence. "I'm a nurse. I know a doctor who can fix you up. Let me take you there."

Arin wanted to refuse. He wanted to stay in his misery, to be left alone, to fade away. But something in the woman's gentle insistence made him hesitate. She wasn't asking for anything in return.

She didn't see him as a failure or a burden. She simply wanted to help.

With a deep, exhausted breath, Arin nodded.

She helped him to his feet and guided him to a small clinic nearby. There, she paid for his treatment, ensuring he received the medical care he desperately needed. The doctor cleaned his wounds and stitched up the worst of the cuts.

The healing process was slow, but the woman never left his side. She brought him food, sat with him, and even helped him with his recovery, offering him comfort and encouragement when he had none left to give himself.

In the days that followed, Arin began to open up to her, albeit slowly. She never pried, never forced him to speak of his past, but she was always there, offering kindness and a sense of normalcy that he had long forgotten. She didn't see him as the broken man the world thought he was. She saw him as a person, a human being deserving of care, and she gave him just that.

Her name was Elara, and as time passed, Arin found himself drawn to her, not just because she had helped him, but because she genuinely cared.

She didn't ask for anything in return. She simply gave him love, attention, and the space he needed to heal.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Arin began to heal, not just physically, but emotionally. Elara helped him regain a sense of self-worth that he had long lost. She reminded him that he wasn't just the sum of his failures. She taught him how to trust again, how to open his heart, and most importantly, how to love himself.

They spent countless hours together, talking about everything and nothing. Slowly, Arin began to see a future that didn't involve the pain and rejection of his past.

Elara was patient, understanding, and gentle. She never made him feel like he had to rush. And, in time, he realized he had fallen in love with her.

Years passed, and with them, Arin's healing.

He wasn't the same person who had walked into that clinic all those months ago. He had grown stronger, wiser, and more at peace with himself. And Elara had always been there, his constant source of support and love.

One day, as they sat together, watching the sunset from their small apartment, Elara turned to him with a smile.

"Arin," she said, her voice soft but certain, "I've been thinking about something.

I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Tears welled in Arin's eyes as he gazed at her, overwhelmed with emotion. He had never thought he would have a chance at happiness, at love. Yet, here she was, offering him the kind of life he never dreamed possible.

"Yes," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Yes, I will."

The wedding was set, and the day finally came.

Arin stood at the entrance of the grand hall, dressed in a simple yet elegant suit, his heart pounding in his chest. The world outside felt like a different place, a place where he was no longer the weak, powerless man he had once been. He had risen from the ashes, with Elara by his side, and now he was about to begin a new chapter of his life.

As he stood there, waiting for Elara to walk down the aisle, Arin couldn't help but think of all the pain he had endured. The humiliation, the rejection, the cruelty of those who had abandoned him—it was all in the past now.

The life he had once thought was impossible was now within his reach.

He was no longer defined by the cruelty of others. He was Arin—someone worthy of love, worthy of happiness, and, most importantly, worthy of a future with the woman he loved.

As Elara entered the venue, her smile, once warm and loving, now seemed like a mask, hiding something darker.

But it wasn't just her-standing beside her were Arin's ex-family, his parents and ex-girlfriend, Lyra. They walked in together, laughing, mocking, their voices echoing through the grand hall like knives in Arin's chest.

The shock and confusion swirled inside Arin's mind like a storm, a hurricane of emotions he could no longer control. His heart, already fragile from years of rejection shattered into a thousand pieces as the laughter of those he once loved rang in his ears.

His breath quickened, his chest tightening as his anger grew. He couldn't hold it back any longer Why? Why were they here? After everything, after abandoning him and humiliating him at his lowest, they had the audacity to show up at the one moment he thought he had reclaimed some happiness?

He stood frozen for a moment, eyes wide with disbelief. And then, his voice broke through the chaos, raw with fury. "What are you all doing here?!" he shouted, his words like a scream, a desperate plea for answers.

Elara, now standing beside his ex-family, turned to him, her face twisted in a mocking smile. "This was always part of the plan, Arin, she said, her voice dripping with disdain.

"You were just a stepping stone. I was never meant for someone like you."

His heart, already bleeding from the past, tore open at the betrayal.

His own ex-family, his parents-the ones who had abandoned him because he was born powerless-were here, laughing, enjoying the spectacle They watched with pride as Arin's entire life unraveled before him.His ex-girlfriend, Lyra, stood with them, her gaze cold and unfeeling.

She had used him, discarded him, and now she mocked him in front of these high-status guests, who all laughed at his pain. The humiliation burned through him, suffocating everything inside.

Arin felt his chest constrict, his heart splintering further. No more. The tears he had held back for so long the years of hurt, the pain that had built up like a pressure cooker, could no longer be contained.

In that moment of pure, unfiltered rage, something inside Arin broke- something far deeper than his soul.

His chest began to burn, the feeling spreading out from his core. His hand gripped the area where his heart once was. It felt like a weight inside him, too heavy to bear.

With a guttural scream, Arin tore into his own chest, ripping through flesh, muscles, and bone. His fingers found the spot where his heart had been and yanked it out. It throbbed in his hand, still beating with a dark unnatural pulse.

Without hesitation, Arin brought it to his lips and drank the dark blood that flowed from the organ. It was cold, heavy, and ancient--a blood that carried with it the power of the ages The moment it hit his tongue, the world around him seemed to warp, and the change began.

His skin turned deathly white, as though drained of all color, and black tattoos started to spiral across his body. They twisted and grew like dark veins, each symbol representing the godlike power coursing through him.

His fingers elongated, sharp claws replacing nails, the skin stretching to accommodate the monstrous transformation. His hands became weapons of pure darkness.

His back arched as an agonizing pain filled him. Two dark horns sprouted from his skull, twisting upward, their tips sharp and gleaming like obsidian. A halo, pure and white, appeared above his head flickering with an eerie light. And then, the wingsThree massive white wings, angelic and radiant, emerged from his back, their feathers shining with a divine glow.

But alongside them were three black wings--dark, twisted, and shadowed, each one representing a fragment of his broken soul. Together, they created a terrible juxtaposition of light and darkness

And then, the third eye opened.

His forehead split as a third, onyx-colored eye appeared, its gaze all-seeing and infinite. His other two eyes turned black, their pupils now endless voids, reflecting the chaos inside him.The change was complete. Arin no longer stood as the man who had been broken.

He stood as The Creator, a being of unimaginable that had been unlocked

His hands contorted into monstrous shapes, sharp claws extending from his fingers, and his nails became long, jagged talons that shimmered with an unnatural, deadly sheen.

His body continued to change, the power of the dark blood flooding his veins, as his skin hardened into something unrecognizable, a patchwork of black and white.

Then, something even more terrifying happened.A third eye appeared in the center of his forehead, opening wide with a sickening crack. His vision became sharper, more focused, as the world around him seemed to slow.

His original two eyes, once human, turned pitch black, their pupils dilating until they were nothing but voids of endless darkness

Arin's heart, or what was left of it, no longer needed to beat. His power was no longer contained.

The God within him, the power that had been buried deep within his soul, was freeHis body pulsed with an unholy energy as he turned his gaze upon the people who had ruined him.

His ex-family, his ex-girlfriend, and the guests who had mocked him-they were all nothing now. He could feel their fear, the weight of their guilt. He was no longer Arin, the powerless fool.

He was something far worse something beyond their comprehension.

He stood there, his claws trembling with rage, his heart-a black hole of darkness-pounding in his chest. The world around him was dimming as the very air seemed to crackle with raw power"You thought you could break me?"

Arin's voice was no longer his own. It was deeper, heavier, resonating with an otherworldly force.

"You thought you could destroy me? I was nothing before, but now...

I am everything

Elara, standing at the front, froze. She had seen the man she had once known, but now, before her stood something more terrifying, more powerful than she had ever imagined. She took a step back, her eyes wide with fear.

Arin took one slow, deliberate step forward, his eyes scanning the room his gaze full of vengeance.

This was the moment he had been waiting for -the moment when he would reclaim everything the stolen from him.But before he could make his move his ex-girlfriend, Lyra, who had once mocked him, now stood terrified, her smug expression long gone.

She attempted to run, but Arin's eyes locked onto hers

A dark, twisted smile spread across his face.

The world had changed.

Arin had changed. And now, there would be no stopping him , Arin's psychopathic laugh tore through the twisted, broken air, a sound that was more of a scream than a laugh—full of madness, anger, and unyielding power. It echoed for what felt like an eternity, reverberating off the walls of the world he had just torn apart and rebuilt.

The laughter was the last sound they would hear before everything they knew was shattered.

With a flick of his hand, reality itself began to warp and twist. The world around them unraveled like a fragile tapestry, collapsing into nothingness as Arin reshaped the fabric of existence.

The venue, the guests, the mockery, all faded into a haze of darkness as Arin rewrote the laws of reality itself. In its place, a new world emerged.

The sky turned blood-red, an ominous glow bleeding through the torn heavens. A massive, dead tree, its bark blackened and decayed, loomed in the center of this new hellish landscape.

Its roots twisted deep into the ground like serpents, coiling in every direction. But the most horrifying feature of this dark world was the giant red eye embedded in the tree's trunk, unblinking, watching with a predatory gaze.

The air was thick with a suffocating heat, and the ground cracked open, spewing black ash and dark miasma. It was a place of utter chaos, where all light was consumed by the darkness, where only the strong could survive.

The people—his ex-family, his ex-girlfriend, and the guests who had humiliated him—found themselves standing in this new world.

They tried to scream, tried to fight against the overwhelming sense of dread, but their efforts were in vain. This was not the world they knew. It was Arin's world now.

And he, as The Creator, had complete control.

The guests who had once mocked him, the family who had cast him aside, all tried to transform, to take on their so-called ultimate forms, hoping that their power would be enough to face the wrath of the being they had thought was weak.

But no matter how they changed, no matter how many wings they sprouted or how bright their powers shone, it was nothing compared to what Arin had become. Their efforts were futile—pathetic.

With a single, effortless motion, Arin's fingers curled, and his black claws shot out, like the talons of a predator.

He moved with blinding speed, and before they could even react, he tore their wings from their bodies. Their once-beautiful, powerful wings—symbols of their power, their pride—were nothing more than crumpled, useless appendages in Arin's hands. He tore them apart like paper, leaving their bodies shattered and broken, their wings fluttering uselessly to the ground.

The chaos in the air grew more intense as Arin moved with a terrifying grace, his black and white wings unfurling behind him like a cruel parody of heaven and hell. The very ground beneath their feet trembled, as if even the world itself was in fear of him.

But Arin didn't stop there. He reached forward, his claws growing longer, sharper, and with a sickening grin on his face, he began to rip them apart one by one.

He reached into their hearts, into their minds, breaking them as they had tried to break him. Their ultimate forms were nothing in comparison to the might of his new power.

His ex-girlfriend, Lyra, the one who had betrayed him most cruelly, tried to scream, tried to fight back with whatever power she could muster, but Arin's gaze was enough to stop her.

The intensity of his black eyes burned through her very soul, and her form began to disintegrate under his will, her body no longer able to hold the power that once seemed so great.

"You thought you could crush me?" Arin spat, his voice a low growl, filled with venom.

"You were nothing more than an obstacle—a stain I wiped from my life. Now, you'll be nothing but dust in the wind."

His ex-parents, still trying to fight their way out of their transformed forms, were also no match for him. Their arrogance, their belief that their power made them untouchable, evaporated the moment Arin's claws pierced their defenses.

The walls they had so carefully constructed around themselves crumbled, their power meaningless in the face of the god that stood before them.

As they screamed, as they tried in vain to fight back, Arin looked at them with cold, black eyes. There was no mercy in him, no pity—only rage.

They had made him a monster, and now he would show them what a monster could do.

With one final movement, Arin unleashed his power in a flood of dark energy that consumed everything.

His wings flared, his third eye glowing with a blinding, terrifying light, and in an instant, everything they had known, everything they had built, was ripped away.

The last thing they saw was Arin standing over them, his silhouette framed by the blood-red sky, his wings outstretched, his claws dripping with their blood. And then, darkness.

In the end, it was not just a world that Arin had created.

It was his world—a place where power was absolute, where only those worthy of creation could exist. His tormentors had learned too late that they had been nothing more than dust in his path, their existence extinguished by the very god they had mocked.

As their ashes scattered to the winds, Arin stood in silence, his eyes calm. He was no longer the broken man they had abandoned. He was the creator now, and this dark world was his to shape.

The past, their mockery, their betrayals, no longer mattered.

This was his domain, and he would rule it forever.

After Arin's transformation into The Creator, the world that had once rejected and tormented him was no longer recognizable. The heavens themselves seemed to tremble under his newfound power, and the very earth quaked in fear as his wings spread across the horizon. He had become the pinnacle of humankind—an apex being, a god who could bend the laws of reality with a mere thought.

Arin's revenge was only the beginning. The more he destroyed, the more he rebuilt, shaping the world in his own image, ridding it of every trace of the weakness and corruption that had led to his suffering. No corner of the earth was safe, and no being—human or otherwise—could withstand his wrath.

The first to fall were those who still clung to the old order, the kingdoms and empires that had long abused their power, oppressing the powerless, just as his family had oppressed him. With a single gesture, Arin crushed their armies, turned their cities to dust, and shattered their kingdoms into ruin. The strong, who had once ruled through force, crumbled beneath his power. They could not fight him—he was their creator, their destroyer. Every rebellion he quelled, every resistance force he obliterated, only added to his strength. The humans who opposed him became nothing more than fleeting sparks in the darkness.

But Arin's vision extended beyond revenge. He saw the flaws of humanity for what they were—the greed, the jealousy, the hatred, the futility of striving for power when one could achieve godhood with but a thought. There would be no more hunger, no more pain, no more betrayal. He was not just destroying the world—he was remaking it, eradicating the cycle of suffering and failure that had plagued his kind. He would shape a new world where only those worthy of his vision would remain. The rest were expendable.

With every step he took, the land twisted and reshaped itself, warping to match his desires. Mountains fell, oceans dried up, cities collapsed into nothingness. The sky itself bled, turning a permanent crimson red as Arin's will became the only law.

And then, at the very edge of reality, Arin reached the final barrier—the last remnants of humanity that dared to resist. They had gathered their strongest forces, their most powerful warriors, but all their efforts were in vain. No army, no magic, no technology could stop him. Their final stand ended with him standing in the center of their battlefield, holding the very essence of the world in his hands.

Arin gazed down at the world, his creation, now fully within his grasp. He could feel every pulse, every breath, every soul that remained. His heart, or what was left of it, no longer held the weakness it once did. His eyes, black as the void, scanned the remnants of civilization.

The world, broken and reshaped by his will, was nothing more than a tool in his hands—a tool for his vision of a new order. He no longer needed the affection of others, no longer needed to prove his worth. He was the end and the beginning, the Creator of all.

The last humans who opposed him begged for mercy, but mercy had no place in Arin's world. The pity he had once felt for the helpless was gone. His fingers curled into a fist, and the world itself trembled as his immense power surged through it.

He clenched his hand tighter, and in that moment, the final resistance crumbled, their screams echoing in the void. All that was left was silence—a silence that stretched to the farthest reaches of existence.

Arin stood in the center of the world, holding it in his hands. The entire universe, bending to his will, was his domain. He had become the god of creation and destruction, the ruler of reality itself.

As he gazed upon the ruins of humankind, Arin whispered to himself, "This is the end. But also the beginning. The world will be mine… forever."

And so, with the last remnants of humanity vanquished, Arin stood alone in his dominion, a god with no equals, holding the world in the palm of his hand, its future now entirely shaped by his will.

The Creator had remade the world. And it was his.

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