Parker had a lot of questions in life, but right now, the biggest one had to be—who the hell told these guys that wearing suits made them more heroic? Seriously. Was this, like, an official Olympian policy? Were the three big boss gods—Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades—actually out here coaching their kids on fashion choices?
"Listen, son, if you're gonna save lives and be a beacon of hope, you gotta do it in a designer suit. Humans respect a crisp lapel."
The idea alone made Parker want to laugh. Maybe it worked in the movies, but in real life? Theseus standing there in his stupidly well-tailored suit just made him look like some overpaid security guard cosplaying as a superhero. Like, what was the message supposed to be? That he was classy while punching through walls?
That he could kick ass and attend a gala on the same night? The heroic drip made no damn sense.
But that wasn't the important part. The important part was the Ether rolling off this guy in waves, familiar in a way Parker immediately despised. The raw, oceanic weight of it, the way it pulled and crashed like a goddamn high tide—he knew that power source. Had felt it before. And even though Parker didn't know Theseus personally, he knew his father.
Which meant this guy wasn't just some random hero with an ego problem. He was an Olympian legacy, a direct son of one of the big three. A living myth. And yeah, mundane Parker before awakening had read about him—the slayer of the Minotaur, the so-called greatest hero of Athens, the dude who had way too much drama in his life to be functional. But myths weren't exactly known for their accuracy, and honestly? Parker hadn't bothered digging deep.
Because by the time Theseus existed, he wasn't. It was so recent?
Or maybe he was. Maybe he was somewhere else. Maybe he was in a different version of this world, one where he had never crossed paths with guys like Theseus. It wasn't the first time Parker had felt the disconnect, the gaps in history that didn't quite make sense to him.
He knew the myths, sure, but knowing a guy from a book and knowing him in real life? Completely different things.
And right now? The only thing Parker needed to know about Theseus was that he was in his way.
Theseus had that classic golden boy energy—tall, stupidly handsome, and way too confident for someone about to get his ass beat. Blue hair, blue eyes, and that whole "I am the son of a god and therefore better than you" posture.
Honestly, Parker might've respected the look if Theseus wasn't currently pissing him the fuck off.
"Smart move stopping," Theseus said, rolling his shoulders was some casual Tuesday night patrol. Like Parker was just another street thug he had to put in his place. "You can't outrun me."
Parker just stared. No reaction. No blinking. Just pure, unfiltered judgment.
Like he was debating whether this idiot even deserved words.
Spoiler alert: he didn't.
But Parker was in a mood. His patience? Gone. His rage? Very much present. And now this bastard was standing here, acting was his moment to shine?
Parker finally spoke, his voice calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that came right before something got destroyed.
"You're about five seconds away from regretting every single decision that led you here."
See, Parker had been playing nice. For way too damn long. He should've been snapping necks and cashing checks ages ago, but he'd let things slide. Big mistake. Because apparently, word might have got out that he was an easy target.
Maybe Perseus had been talking shit. Maybe Theseus thought interrupting a street race was his big hero entrance. "Ooooh, look at me, stopping the outlaw street racer! Behold, my moral superiority!"
Theseus snorted. Deadass snorted. Like Parker's warning was a joke. Like Parker was a joke. His stance shifted slightly, shoulders squaring up. Dismissing Parker's words like he'd heard it all before.
"Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do?"
Parker barely reacted. Barely moved. Just the slightest twitch of his lips. Not a smirk. Not amusement. Something worse.
Something Theseus should've paid attention to.
"Ruin your whole fucking second chance life."
Before stepping away from his car, he placed a hand on it. Just a tap. But with sheer raw power, he spun the entire Jesko around like it weighed nothing. The car screeched, tires twisting, its body whipping perfectly into position behind him—a shield, a throne, a declaration.
And oh yeah. Before that? He'd already flipped his phone camera off.
No, not literally, but his speed was so fucking ridiculous that to the human eye? It might as well have been teleportation. The ground should have cracked beneath his launch, but Parker was too refined for that. Too effortless. He moved with a weightless, lethal grace, a precision that defied physics.
Parker's fist found his chin like it had been summoned by destiny.
LIFTED THESEUS OFF HIS FEET.
The hero went airborne.
Sent flying like Parker had just personally introduced him to a first-class trip to the moon. Parker put his hands in his pockets as the system fed him Theseus's stats while he was still airborne.
Power Level: Primal (Tier 5)
Superpowers: Water Dominance, Water Beast Summoning, Spatial Lifts
Corruption/Purity: Hero (98%), Lustful (30%)
Parker's lips curled, the grin forming naturally. Oh, this was gonna be fun. He was facing someone right at his level. A rare occurrence. Theseus had magic, sure. Parker wasn't using his. Not just because he couldn't, because he would've refused to use magic on a weakling even if he had it. He could've tapped into Omni Energy, pulled out infinity stats card, and turned this idiot into a fucking smear on the pavement.
But nah. He wasn't gonna do that. He was going to crash this bug.
Not just to win. To prove a fucking point. To remind these holier-than-thou heroes that Parker Nyxilith Black wasn't some rookie they could test their luck against. To show the gods watching that he wasn't some footnote in their story.
That when they came for him—when they finally decided to move against him—they'd have to be ready for death.