Lily's Hope pulsed with life—thousands of mutants from every corner of the globe wove their powers into its fabric: flame dancers from India lit forges, vine-weavers from Brazil greened fields, ice shapers from Russia cooled homes, speedsters from Japan ferried goods—Bill's templates shaped it—Captain Universe terraformed cliffs, Upgrade powered aquafarms, Quadra-Hulk carved homes, Steve built foundations—Clara led gardens, Lily's fire enriched soil, Lena's crew trained—mutantkind's haven stood defiant against the world's hate.Days of peace stretched—mutants rebuilt—Bill stood atop the cliff tower, cosmic senses sweeping—Clara pruned vines below, Lily laughed with Ellie—Rok, Buzz, and Spike fortified—comics' Krakoa thrived—but hate simmered—Upgrade's HUD caught whispers—"Mutant empire threatens humanity"—governments allied—UN resolutions, militia pacts—war brewed—Bill's resolve deepened—family, mutants, his world—he'd protect them all.A hum shook the air—cosmic, infinite—Bill's Captain Universe glow flickered—Upgrade glitched—SCP-096's rage stilled—a figure appeared—elderly, bearded, radiant—SCP-343—God—comics' Beyonder, SCP's enigma—"You've built much," it said—voice everywhere—"Power grows—take mine."The system chimed:
"New Template Unlocked: SCP-343 ('God'). Reality alteration, near-omnipotent manipulation—matter, energy, time. Trigger: Ultimate guardianship. Warning: Control unstable—focus required."Bill transformed—light engulfed—robes flowed—eyes burned with creation—power surged—beyond Captain Universe, Quadra-Hulk—he waved—stone reshaped—fields bloomed—cosmic senses saw all—Upgrade synced—tech bent to will—SCP-343's might hummed—divine, overwhelming—"Whoa," he breathed—voice echoing eternity.Clara climbed up—awestruck—"Bill… you're…""God-like," Lily finished—glow wide—"Protecting us?""Always," Bill said—SCP-343's calm steadied—comics' Secret Wars, godhood's burden—he tested—fields doubled—fish spawned—walls hardened—mutants gasped—Lena's night vision widened—"You're our shield.""More now," Bill said—cosmic senses caught it—fleets massed—jets armed—world's hate struck—"They're here."