Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

Chapter 46 Visions Of The Cursed

Parker stood in the center of his room, glaring at the random objects scattered around. His eyes locked on a stray pen on his desk. It was nothing, just a pen, but it suddenly felt like his greatest enemy.

"Alright," he muttered, cracking his neck. "You're just a pen. I can do this. Easy peasy."

He took a deep breath, planting his feet firmly on the ground, and extended a hand toward the pen like he was about to use the Force or something.

At first, when he first tried nothing had happened.

No twitch, no wiggle, no freaky supernatural glow. Just like before when the compass sitting there, mocking him silently.

But this time it was bound to be different on the first try, or rather the second try.

Parker clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes. "Okay, focus. Connect with it or whatever. Feel it like… part of me. A thread. Yeah, a thread."

Again, he imagined some invisible line tying his mind to the pen, pulling energy from somewhere deep inside. The room felt heavier, like the air was pressing down on him.

Suddenly, the pen trembled—just a tiny twitch, like it might roll off the desk.

"Hell yeah!" Parker grinned, his heart racing.

But that tiny success previously would have come at a cost. His temples would have throbbed like someone was drilling into his skull. But not this time

"Shit, that good. Okay, okay. Take five."

Five minutes turned into twenty, he tried and moved as many objects as possible.

Parker, now pacing, stared at his bed. It looked more like a challenge now, a mountain to conquer. "Alright, big guy. Let's see if I can make you move."

He squared up, raising both hands toward the bed.

"Mind Fortress, don't fail me now," he whispered.

This time, he didn't just focus—he pushed. He poured every ounce of concentration into the bed, imagining it sliding across the floor like a damn magic carpet.

The bed shuddered.

It didn't move, not really, but it shook enough to make the bed frame creak. Parker's breath caught.

"Holy shit," he gasped. "It's—"

Before he could finish the thought, a wave of exhaustion slammed into him like a truck. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the very bed he was trying to move.

"Okay, maybe I'm not a Jedi just yet, let's sleep, alright," he mumbled, his eyelids already drooping. Even with the Mind Fortress there was so much a newbie could push.

As he drifted off, Parker had no way of knowing what was happening far beyond the quiet confines of his room.

Deep underground, in a tomb forgotten by time, under a certain mountain, something a stirred. A monstrous presence long dormant, older than some new gods, had awaken.

And high above, in the endless expanse of the cosmos the gods from different pantheons watched, a shadow of greatness moved closer to them in the image of Parker Black.

Not even the High Council, in all their divine glory, could stop what he was becoming.

Parker too, had no idea, but he was about to turn the world upside down.

****

The apartment, tucked into the corner of an older, mid-tier complex. It wasn't exactly run-down, but it definitely had its quirks. The hallway lights flickered every now and then, and the faint hum of a neighbor's TV was always in the background. Inside, the three-bedroom apartment was dimly lit, cluttered but lived-in. Mismatched furniture gave the place character—one couch was modern and sleek while another looked like it had survived multiple owners.

Three young women slept soundly—or appeared to, at least. Isis and Chione occupied two of the bedrooms, and Cassandra took the slightly larger one at the end of the hall. For their youthful looks, they seemed far too young to afford this place. But looks could be deceiving.

Cassandra wasn't exactly enjoying her sleep. Her body jerked every so often like she was being electrocuted by invisible currents. Sweat drenched her nightdress, the fabric clinging to her figure. She looked like someone fighting a battle no one else could see.

Her face twisted between terror and shock, a silent film of emotions too fast to read.

And then—

Gasp!

She shot upright, clutching the sheets as if they might anchor her to reality. Her breaths came in sharp bursts, her chest rising and falling as though she'd just sprinted a mile. For five long minutes, she didn't move.

She sat there, processing whatever horror had just gripped her.

"This stupid curse…" she muttered, her voice sharp with bitterness. The words practically spat out of her mouth. If she could strangle Apollo, she probably would. But, as always, her visions were a double-edged, a sword and blessing.

They disturbed her deeply, but they also offered clarity—directions she couldn't afford to ignore.

Dragging herself out of bed, Cassandra waved a hand, and her sweat-soaked dress dried instantly. Magic had its perks. She padded out of her room, her bare feet barely making a sound on the cool wooden floor.

She was already strategizing how to explain things to Chione and Isis without mentioning her visions.

Her visions weren't exactly "let's sit and chat over coffee" material. Most people didn't believe her—or worse, they dismissed them altogether. Her companions, though? They were smarter than most, but that didn't mean Cassandra could just drop a bombshell and expect blind faith.

They wouldn't still believe her—her, visions at least.

She knocked softly on each of their doors before retreating to the living room.

Sitting on the couch, she crossed her legs and stared at the ceiling, rehearsing her words in her head, what she was going to say to convince them without mentioning her visions.

Chione was the first to emerge, her footsteps light but purposeful. The soft glow from the hallway caught her blue nightgown, the fabric clinging just enough to hint at her figure. She was stunning, and she knew it.

Modesty wasn't really Chione's thing.

She slid onto the couch beside Cassandra without a word, her calm demeanor radiating quiet strength.

Isis followed not long after, her black lace nightgown leaving little to the imagination. Her messy hair somehow added to her allure, giving her an effortless beauty that could stop traffic.

She flopped onto the armchair, looking at Cassandra through half-lidded eyes.

"What the fuck, Cass? It's the middle of the damn night," Isis muttered as she plopped onto the couch, rubbing her temples. "This better be good."

Cassandra swallowed hard, then cleared her throat. "I want to tell you something… ahem… Since we haven't decided on which school to join yet, let's go with Silverbrook High." She blurted it out and immediately regretted her delivery.

Isis's eyes widened as she stared at Cassandra like she'd lost her mind. "You seriously woke me up for this? A school decision? Are you kidding me? This couldn't wait till, I don't know, tomorrow?"

Cassandra opened her mouth but no words came out. She felt heat creep up her neck and turned her eyes to Chione, silently begging for backup.

Chione sighed softly, her patience unwavering. "Okay, Cass. Why Silverbrook? And why now?" Her tone was gentle but firm, leaving no room for evasion.

"I just… I have a feeling about it. A strong one," Cassandra said, her voice low. She avoided their gazes, knowing she couldn't explain without sounding insane.

Chione studied her for a long moment before pulling out her phone. "Alright, let's see this Silverbrook."

The glow of the phone screen reflected off her face as she typed. Her brows furrowed as she looked through the search results. "Huh. It's pretty far from here," she muttered, her voice tinged with curiosity. "How'd you even hear about this place, Cass?"

Cassandra's lips parted, but she clamped them shut again. She didn't know what to say without giving too much away.

Chione's sharp gaze lingered on her for a moment before she sighed again. She wasn't dumb. Cassandra could see the gears turning in her head, piecing things together.

Isis groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Look, I've got shit to wrap up here. Work, people, you know… my life. Why the hell do we need to go there all of a sudden?" Isis had some unfinished business with someone.

"It's important," Cassandra said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "For your own good, Isis. Trust me on this."

Isis gave her a skeptical look, crossing her arms. "You're really not giving me much here, Cass. You gotta give me a better reason than 'just trust me.'"

After several minutes of Cassandra's quiet persistence—and Chione's eventual nod of agreement—Isis finally caved. "Fine," she said with an exaggerated sigh. "But you owe me big time."

Cassandra exhaled in relief, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks, Chione, Isis. I promise it'll be worth it."

Chione closed her phone and leaned back, her expression thoughtful. "We'll need to let Atalanta know. She won't be thrilled, but she'll listen. Especially if I bring it up."

With the meeting over, Isis headed back to her room, muttering something about needing her beauty sleep. Chione followed soon after, leaving Cassandra alone in the dimly lit living room.

"That went smoother than I expected," Cassandra murmured to herself, though the tension in her chest refused to fully dissipate.

As she headed back to her room, a sudden chill ran down her spine. She froze in place, her eyes darting above her where a strange eye was, locking on her.

*****

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