Parker's heart skips a beat. He reads it again, then looks back at the pigeon, which now seems to be casually pecking at a leftover crumb on the floor.
"This has to be a prank," Parker says, trying to convince himself. But deep down, he knows better. The note is too specific. Whoever sent this knows things they shouldn't.
The pigeon lets out a loud coo, startling Parker out of his thoughts. Then, just as mysteriously as it arrived, it flaps its wings and takes off through the open door.
Parker closes the door, leans against it, and exhales slowly. "Guess sleeping isn't an option tonight."
This sets the stage for a mix of cody and tension as Parker dives into figuring out who sent the note and how they know about the system. Is it a rival? A friend? Or sothing far bigger?
Whatever it is, it's clear his millionaire journey just got a whole lot ssier.
Parker lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind swirling with thoughts about the mysterious note. He couldn't just brush it off, even if it ca by pigeon express. Overthinking was inevitable. "Alright," he muttered, sitting back up. "If I don't look into this now, I'll be staring at the ceiling all night."
He grinned to himself and activated the system. "Let's see what you've got. Appraisal."
The system humd to life, and the answer appeared before his eyes:
[Divine Paper. A paper made with the divinity of Goddess Aphrodite!]
Parker stared at the words for a mont, then burst out laughing. "Aphrodite? Seriously? The Greek gods are sending hate mail now? What's next—Zeus DMing on social dia?"
It was oddly amusing, almost ridiculous. Parker rubbed his temples and chuckled again. "So, Greek myths are now real, like they're still alive, huh? Makes sense. My life's weird enough already."
After thinking about it for a mont, he shrugged. "Whatever. If the gods wanna ss with , they can wait till morning."
He flopped back onto his bed, pulling the blankets up. Within minutes, Parker was snoring peacefully, completely unbothered, like the millionaire boss he was. Nothing—divine notes, pigeons, or even Greek god drama—was going to disturb his well-earned rest tonight.
****
Two Hours Ago In The Castle.
Nestled on a small, remote island off the coast of Maine, the castle looked like sothing straight out of a fantasy RPG. It rose from the rocky cliffs like it had been there since the dawn of ti—stone spires piercing the clouds, cascading waterfalls flowing off its edges into the sea below. At a distance, the sound of the water crashing against the ocean blended with the wind, singing an ancient lody that never quite settled into words.
From afar, the castle might've seed abandoned, a relic left to ti. But get close enough, and you'd notice sothing else. The soft glow of lights emanating from its stained-glass windows, modern solar panels barely visible atop the towers, and a faint hum of hidden technology.
It was a place where modernity and mythology clashed perfectly, where sleek lines and ancient arches coexisted like old friends.
Inside? That was sothing else entirely. Walk through the enormous wrought-iron doors, and the first thing you'd hear was the voices—a cacophony of whispers, shouts, giggles, and quiet murmurs. They were silencing, unsettling, yet strangely magnetic. Each voice ca from the sa source—teenagers. Hundreds of them. Voices of all tones and timbres, playful but layered with sothing more, sothing otherworldly.
****
The Movie Room
The in-house cinema felt like sothing you'd find in a billionaire's mansion. Huge black leather couches sprawled across the room, a projector beam cutting through the dim air. Netflix was up on the screen, but no one was paying attention to the ti anymore—it felt infinite in a place like this.
In the center of it all, four teenagers sprawled in their spots like they'd been there for hours.
"Yo, Chione. What ti did they say we're supposed to go?" Cassandra asked, flipping her red hair with impatience. She was the loud one, her voice always breaking the stillness when it got too quiet. She wore a cropped white turtleneck and a pleated navy skirt, showing off legs and abs that looked like she lived in the gym.
The girl sitting beside her—Chione—sighed like she'd been doing it all day. She sat perfectly still in the middle, calm as a still lake, her hoodie a shade of gray-green that no one could quite na. She turned her gaze on Cassandra, a look that said,
"You're exhausting," but she didn't say it out loud. "Patience, Cass. They'll tell us when they tell us. You know they don't rush."
"Ugh," Cassandra groaned dramatically, flopping back into the couch. "You said that three days ago. I'm dying here, girl. DYING."
Across from them, lounging like she had all the ti in the world, Atalanta smirked. She had silvery-white hair braided into two perfect plaits and wore high-waisted shorts with a bomber jacket, her whole vibe effortlessly cool.
She chuckled softly at Cassandra's dramatics, earning a glare from the redhead.
"What's so funny, Atalanta?" Cassandra snapped, propping herself up on her elbows.
Atalanta grinned even more, the corners of her lips tugging upward. "Nothing, nothing. You're just so predictable, girl."
That only annoyed Cassandra more. "If you've got sothing to say, spit it out."
The silver-haired girl tilted her head and lazily turned to Chione. "I'm kinda with Cass, though. I'm lowkey sick of waiting too. Like, they said they'd call us when it's ti, but that was a week ago. What gives?"
Chione sighed—again. "You know they don't move unless it's the right mont. Plans and whatever. Stop being so dramatic. Both of you."
Cassandra and Atalanta groaned at the sa ti, perfectly in sync.
"Plans, plans, plans," Atalanta mimicked sarcastically, flopping back. "I swear, they've been playing chess with us this whole ti."
A sudden silence fell as Chione's gaze dropped to the fourth mber of the room. On the floor, his back against the couch, sat Perseus—quiet as ever, fiddling with so electronic device they had received month ago.
His golden hair fell over his face as he ignored the entire conversation.
Chione's brow furrowed slightly as she studied him. 'Why him?' she thought—not for the first ti.
Cassandra, picking up on the look, pouted imdiately. "Yo, Chione, stop looking at Perseus like that, or I swear I'm cutting you off as a friend."
Chione raised an eyebrow at her. "Relax. I'm just wondering why he's here and not sowhere else. It's not my fault you're blinded by whatever feelings you've got going on."
Atalanta broke in before Cassandra could explode. "Let her be, Chione. Cass only learns the hard way."
Cassandra huffed, crossing her arms and sinking into the couch again. Atalanta smirked, and even Chione cracked a half-smile. For a mont, all three girls looked at each other with exasperated grins, like sisters who fought but wouldn't trade each other for the world.
The entire room suddenly froze as a boom sounded from outside—deep and thunderous, like a gong struck in the heavens.
****
And so we bring them!
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