Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

Evelyn was the first to feel it. One second, she was mid-sentence—probably talking about some dumb drama at school, because why wouldn't she be?—and the next, her whole body locked up like someone had just yanked the batteries out of her soul. Her legs folded before her brain could even process the why, dropping her straight to her knees like gravity just got personal. Her breath hitched, eyes wide as she whispered it without even thinking:

"Original."

Annabelle wasn't far behind. The wave slammed into her like a truck made of ice and bad decisions. She didn't even get the luxury of falling gracefully—no, it was more like a face-first-meets-ground kinda moment. Boom. Dirt in her mouth. Humiliating, sure, but when something that big hit you? Pride wasn't even on the list of things you cared about. Her hands clenched the ground like it was her lifeline, voice shaking as it crawled out of her throat:

"Original."

But Maya? Oh, no, Maya was built different.

While her friends were busy doing their holy-shit-we're-not-worthy routine, Maya just stood there.

Didn't fall, didn't flinch—she let that wave crash into her like it was a warm hug from the void itself. And instead of fear? That girl smiled. Not just a little "Oh, cool" smirk—no, we're talking grin-so-wide-it's-almost-creepy territory.

The power didn't knock her down. Hell, it wrapped around her. Like it knew her. Like it remembered her in that you're-mine-and-you-always-will-be kinda way. The cold wasn't cold anymore—it was comforting, like sinking into your favorite blanket after a long-ass day. And her consciousness? Floating. Carried off to some far-off happy place where every laugh was sunshine and the air smelled like fresh rain and home-cooked meals.

"Honey," she whispered—soft, sweet, almost clingy like she was talking to a long-lost lover who just walked through the door after centuries.

And the wave—damn thing was clingy too. It wrapped tighter, like she was all that mattered in the entire fucking universe. Every little piece of energy bent toward her, like it was saying, "Yeah, you're it. You're the one."

Meanwhile, behind her, Evelyn and Annabelle were still stuck on their knees, lowkey freaking out. Evelyn dared to lift her head for half a second, just enough to see Maya standing there all majestic and glowy, and muttered under her breath, "Bro, is she seriously enjoying this while her friend are like this? The fuck? Can't tell your man to let go of us?"

Annabelle, still spitting dirt out of her mouth, groaned, "She's not enjoying it—she's vibing with it. There's a difference. I think."

But Maya didn't hear a damn thing. She was gone—lost in the warmth, in the embrace of something so big, so ancient, it didn't even need to speak to say, "You're mine."

And the others? They stayed on their knees

But Maya? She didn't kneel. She didn't need to..She belonged.

****

It didn't matter where they were—Harvard lecture halls, creepy-ass family mansions, cushy office chairs, or halfway through their overpriced, Instagram-worthy brunch—everyone felt it. Like, seriously, everyone. The Ravencroft descendants, Shadowmire descendants and elites, Bella Harper—Evelyn's sister, who, let's be real, always had that "I'm better than you" vibe—hell, even the Shadowmire patriarch who probably hadn't bowed to anything since the dinosaurs roamed. Maya's brother? Yeah, he felt it too, that soul-punch of raw power screaming, to bow and acknowledge.

And even the Zhangs? If they didn't feel it yet, oh, trust—they were about to, because when something that ancient wakes up, it doesn't whisper. It shouts through the bones of the universe itself.

And here's the thing: nobody got a choice. Didn't matter how powerful you were, how much money you had stacked in your bank account, or how many secret family cult meetings you'd survived—when that wave hit, you bowed. Instinct took the wheel, body dropping to the floor like, "Yup, this is my life now." Knees to the ground, heads lowered, and that one word falling out of their mouths like it wasn't even theirs to control:

"Original."

Even Julian and his Harvard crew weren't spared—and, oh boy, that was a scene. Imagine being in the middle of class, trying to flex that Ivy League energy, and suddenly—bam. You're on your damn knees mid-lecture, the professor staring at you like, "What the actual hell?" Embarrassing? Sure. But embarrassment didn't stand a damn chance against the weight of that feeling. Read the latest on My Virtual Library Empire

Honestly, the consequences straight-up dwarfed any shot of embarrassment—like, we're talking a ratio of 1 to 1000 here. Who the hell cares about feeling a little awkward when the alternative could be, you know, cosmic-level screwed?

Julian's heart? Fucking wrecked. His brain? Full-on panic mode. His bladder? Yeah... let's just say if he wasn't careful, Harvard might be adding "Pants Pisser Extraordinaire" next to his name in the yearbook. Because Julian knew. He knew exactly who that was—the Original—and what he'd been doing behind his back, thinking he was untouchable. Yeah, well, karma's got hands, and Julian was feeling every single one of them about to slap his soul into next week.

But hey, silver lining—he had an excuse. A flimsy, weak-ass excuse, sure, but something to cling to when judgment day came knocking. In anyway, in Julian's case, making him kneel, go down on his knees amongst his peers, was like Parker's first revenge...

Now, while everyone else was out here basically face-planting for survival, there were three people who didn't drop. Not even a flinch.

Maya? Please. She stood there like she was made of sunshine and destiny, that stupidly big grin plastered on her face like the universe had just handed her front-row tickets to her own damn show. She belonged to that wave. It wrapped around her like a possessive ex that never really let go—clingy, familiar, like it knew every inch of her soul and decided, "Yeah, you're mine."

Vivian and Helena? Same deal. Cool as fuck, standing there while the rest of the world hit the deck like a scene outta some Game of Thrones-level cosmic reckoning. They didn't bow because why the hell would they? Power like that didn't scare them—it recognized them.

And, honestly? The chaos was kinda hilarious if you weren't the one eating dirt. Harvard rumors were already being born faster than a TikTok trend—"Did you see Julian? Bro just dropped! Like, mid-sentence!" And the fear? Oh, that was just the icing on the cake.

But deep down? Everyone knew amongst the Origin Families. This wasn't some random magical glitch in the matrix. This was the Original waking up. And that meant shit was about to get real, real fast.

And if you weren't scared?

You were lying.