Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

Ethan Wilder looked like a college kid who'd just discovered he could accidentally level city blocks with basic bodily functions, and honestly, that wasn't far from the truth. His voice created ripples in the air that made everyone want to stare—not because they were pretty, but because they were true. Sound made visible, truth given form in waves that made the windows weep.

"I think I broke the sound barrier when I woke up," he admitted, and the words carried harmonics that seemed to reach into everyone's chest and tune their heartbeats to his rhythm. "There's a hole in my bedroom wall that definitely wasn't there last night, and I'm pretty sure I time-traveled my alarm clock because it's been playing yesterday's news for the past hour."

Time travel via accidental morning routine wasn't covered in any physics textbook, but then again, physics had never accounted for someone whose very existence demanded more room than any space was willing to give. The hole in the wall wasn't damage—it was honesty. His voice revealing that the barriers he'd been taught to respect had never been as solid as advertised.

He'd always been too loud for the world's comfort, but now he understood why. Some truths couldn't be whispered.

Vivian Wilder was the only person who seemed genuinely thrilled by the chaos, and watching her was like witnessing joy learn to reshape reality according to its own rules.

She'd managed to freeze her entire vanity table while creating a symphony of destruction that was somehow perfectly timed to her heartbeat—ice and lightning and crystallized laughter dancing together like elements that had been waiting their whole existence for someone who understood that harmony didn't mean holding still.

"This is fucking amazing!" The words came out as music—literally. Her joy created ice sculptures that immediately shattered from the sonic waves her excitement generated, turning into sparkly snow that danced around the room in patterns too beautiful for accident. "I feel like I could redecorate reality!"

Which was probably exactly what everyone was afraid she might try to do. Vivian had never learned to dim her light for other people's comfort, and now the universe was finally learning to keep up with her tempo.

She wasn't chaos—she was composition, writing symphonies in forces that had never learned to harmonize until she taught them how.

Annabelle and Bella stood together, watching the unfolding beautiful disaster with the kind of horror that came from suddenly being responsible for cosmic daycare—the kind where tantrums could accidentally end civilization and bedtime stories involved restructuring the fundamental laws of physics. Chесk fоr thе lаtеst updаtеs оn Мy Virtuаl Librаry Еmpirе (М-VL-ЕМР-YR).

"We have kids with nuclear-level powers," Bella said faintly, her voice carrying the shell-shocked tone of someone who'd just realized that parenting had gotten infinitely more complicated. "One wrong tantrum and this entire building becomes a smoking crater in the ground."

"Forget tantrums," Annabelle replied, watching Ethan accidentally create a localized blizzard while trying to apologize for the architectural damage to his bedroom. "One strong emotion and we're looking at citywide destruction. Remember when their biggest worry was them breaking dishes or not showing up in family meetings?"

Those were the good old days, when the worst-case scenario was grounding someone, not accidentally ending civilization because someone had feelings about their algebra homework.

Parker's eyes turned to Robert. Robert was watching the chaos with the expression of someone who'd just been handed the world's most dangerous and unpredictable classroom full of cosmic toddlers—and was absolutely delighted by the challenge.

Understanding what he wanted, Robert nodded slowly. He knew exactly what the Prince was thinking, and more importantly, he knew what these newly awakened souls needed to hear.

"Y'ALL!"

Robert's voice cut through the chaos like a hot knife through butter, except the butter was made of pure authority and the knife was forged from decades of dealing with unruly supernatural beings who could reshape reality when they sneezed wrong.

The transformation was instant and beautiful in its own terrifying way—the gentle, polite society figure who'd been graciously opening portals for freaked-out billionaires just fucking vanished, replaced by someone who radiated the kind of authority that made cosmic forces sit up, shut up, and pay attention.

This was Robert Blackwood in his natural habitat—not anything like a proud Voidhowl but like a teacher who'd spent lifetimes learning how to guide beings through the delicate art of not accidentally unmaking reality while having emotions.

Everyone froze instantly. Literally, in some cases, as Elena's surprise sent another wave of ice across the marble floor in patterns that looked like abstract art but felt like crystallized attention.

Even the shadow creature stopped eating curtains and looked attentive.

"From this moment forward," Robert continued, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority mixed with the patience of someone who'd taught cosmic kindergarten before, "regardless of your age, your social standing, your bank account, how many politicians you have in your pocket, or how many zeros are in your net worth—"

His gaze swept deliberately over Diana and the others, making his point crystal fucking clear.

"—you will be training with me and everyone else in this room. You'll train as equals, learn as equals, make mistakes as equals, and get your asses handed to you as equals. I expect complete respect for my instruction, my methods, and my corrections. Anyone who thinks their previous status entitles them to special treatment is welcome to volunteer for my advanced lesson program."

The threat hung in the air like a promise of very creative and educational punishment.

"And just so we're absolutely crystal clear about what 'advanced lessons' means," Robert added, his smile sharp enough to perform surgery, "that's where I teach you control while actively while give a good beating. Picture learning to juggle while someone's throwing rocks at your head, except the rocks are cosmic being. And trust me I'm older than y'all so you're like kinds and I won't feel like I'm disrespecting you."

The silence that followed was broken only by Alessandro's shadow creature making a sound that might have been nervous laughter—or possibly applause.

"He's completely in his element," Annabelle whispered to Tessa, grinning as she watched Robert transform into the kind of teacher who could make grown adults remember being terrified of detention. "I haven't seen him this happy since he got to lecture Julian about cosmic responsibility and proper behavior after the punishment."

Robert did love a good teaching moment, especially when it involved beings who could accidentally unmake reality while learning basic emotional regulation.