Reincarnated as an Apocalyptic Catalyst-Chapter 45: The Slums Stir

I’d spent the better part of the evening weaving through the underbelly of the capital. I wasn’t perched high on a rooftop this time—no, I preferred the anonymity of the pavement, where I could blend with the shadows and forgotten souls. I kept my face slow as I made my way toward the tannery.

It was time to check on my first "child." Garrett, the slaver-turned-host, whose cocky arrogance had become his trademark. Rumors had trickled in like gutter water, whispers that he’d begun expanding his influence, recruiting new enforcers, and even "reshaping" his operations at an alarming speed. I knew all too well that the bloodshed he boasted about was nothing but a reflection of my own handiwork. His guard had been dispatched quietly in the dark by Vance, at my command. A command that likely could have ended Garrett if I’d so chosen. But I hadn’t; I’d let him strut for now, to remind him whose orders truly mattered.

I slipped into the narrow, corridors behind the tannery. The stench of decay, sweat, and old leather filled my nostrils. There, hidden in the shadow of a crumbling wall, I observed Garrett. He was in full regalia; a man who believed himself untouchable, despite his pitiful quantity of life experience. He leaned against a rusted doorframe, smirking like a spoiled child. His voice, dripping with pride, carried across the space between us.

"You think I haven’t noticed you?" he spoke into the darkness, loud enough for his few lackeys to hear. "I built this with my own two hands. And if I feel like it, I could take you out. Lucian, your meddling isn’t worth a damn." The thugs around him exchanged odd glances, but none of them were grave enough to speak up.

I felt my pulse spike at that challenge, though I forced my expression into impassivity as I worked to keep my emotions in check. Garrett was a puppet dancing to the tune I played. It’s true, I had not intended for him to be given so much so early, but I had a way to make the plan work.

It would be easier if Garrett would just fall in line rather than strutting along as though he were the master and I the slave. I stepped into the periphery of his vision, just barely allowing myself to be seen, silently reminding him that his newfound independence was entirely an illusion.

As I watched, memories tugged at me from after I had sent Vance away, after he had taken out the guards. Garrett left the building and stood in shock as he caught a glimpse of his guards on the floor. After scanning the area for threats, he heard the second guard moan in pain as he began to come to. Garrett pressed the door shut behind him and glanced around one more time, in absolute panic. Thinking quickly, he took a blade in his hands and shouted, "You think you can speak to me like that?" he made sure he was as loud as possible before driving the blade down through the semi-conscious guards eye, twisting the blade and coating his hand in blood. freewёbnoνel-com

When the deed was done, he knocked on the door again, was let inside, and cleaned his hands with a handkerchief. From the window I could see him boasting to anyone who’d listen that he’d taken down his own guards, how total and complete obedience is a necessity–I know, right? If only you practiced what you preached–. But I knew the truth. It was Vance, commanded by myself, who had struck those men down in the dead of night. I understood why he needed to take credit for the kills, he couldn’t risk it being known that someone was out there, fully capable of taking out his men. Besides, the fear his lackeys fed to him by the cart-full only served to elevate his feelings of power.

Reaching through something I had only just begun to understand, I spoke with Garrett through my mind, through a tether that bound us parasites together. Remember, Garrett, you need me. I could crush you with one thought. You’d do well to keep your mouth shut and follow my orders. The moment you forget that, I’ll have no choice but to erase you.

He met my gaze with a sneer that dripped defiance. "I work for myself now, Lucian," he spat, his voice echoing with false bravado. "You may have brought me into existence, but I’m the one running this show." It was clear Garrett both had no idea how to respond through the link, and had no problems shouting like a lunatic into the darkness.

I nearly laughed but held it in. Keep underestimating me. Your so-called empire is built on borrowed time. Your guards fell at my feet and I didn’t so much as have to lift a finger. If you don’t get ahold of your senses, it will be worse next time. I wasn’t lying, but the lack of details would serve their purpose.

Around us, the clamor of the slums continued, indifferent to our exchange. I could sense the stirring of unrest among him, I could see his enforcers questioning their loyalty, viewing this madman as a possible liability. I already had another parasite in the chamber, pulsing beneath my skin, reminding me of the moment I gave Garrett life, and also that I could take it from him, and replace him with another version of myself.

I moved further into the light, lacing the link between us with utter menace, I know you’re buying up new slaves by the dozens, taking big risks. But remember: Morgana doesn’t know the nuances of life on this pitiful planet. She’s blind to our real power. I could teach you things you would never, in your wildest dreams, imagine. I don’t expect an answer now, but I’ll be around when you are ready to play nice.

For a long, charged moment, he said nothing. His eyes narrowed, and I caught a glimmer of uncertainty behind that smug, oh-so-punchable face. But the glimmer faded, replaced by the same defiant look. "I’m not afraid of you, Lucian. I’ll do things my way, so just fuck off!"

I knew I’d delivered my message despite his resistance. The time to show him my strength had not yet arrived. I would take out a few more men, disrupt his slave trade, and maybe then would he listen. If not, I’d have to take him down a notch in a direct confrontation. I wasn’t worried—on the contrary, I was quite confident in my ability to crush him—, I just hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that. I was a busy man and still had much left to accomplish before I switched bodies.

I could see his hands clench into fists at his sides, waiting for me to come lunging at him, waiting for a fight. I turned away, leaving him to stew in his rage, knowing that this was only the first lesson. Yet in the distance, I caught word, rumors of disappearances, hushed voices of men and women vanishing into the night, slaves taken in numbers never seen by the slums in decades, and they were taken by this very parasite. His influence was expanding, and if I wasn’t careful, it would tip the scales in Morgana’s favor—and in mine, but for all the wrong reasons.

Garrett’s empire was growing, that was true, and his new enforcers were strong, but no more than fodder to me. Every step he took away from my direct control was a step toward chaos, which would ultimately be my undoing if left unchecked.

I knew that somewhere in Garrett’s twisted mind, his parasite had registered my threat. It was adapting like Vance had, just as swiftly, but far too recklessly. I had to contain it.

Garrett, began to gather a small cadre of new recruits, nothing impressive, just a bunch of bodies with rusty weapons. The whispers among his subordinates grew louder, they were full of fear as they questioned their master. My heart sank at the thought of that parasite, at my own mistakes. How I had not anticipated this happening, how I had not picked my first target better. I had Vance under my wing, but there were still half a dozen or so I had to create, and I doubted that most of them, if any, would follow me directly.

I needed to remind them that every life they took, every order they defied, would be met with severe retaliation, without tipping off Morgana to what I had planned. The city was full of predators, and I was the apex, for now.

As the night deepened, I couldn’t force myself to stray too far from the vantage point overlooking Garrett’s makeshift headquarters, that ridiculous battered structure on the edge of the slums. With the concept of our mental link still fresh in my mind, I worked to dim my presence. Something had given me away, and I needed to remain invisible to his sixth sense if I were to remain watching him.

Through a narrow, grimy window, I could see him pacing in a cramped office, surrounded by his loyal, if nervous, lieutenants. His posture was nervous, his smirk faltering, and through these observations, I could tell he was rattled from our last interaction. I had become obsessed with this man, with myself.

For now, I would let him believe he was in charge, to an extent, let him parade his supposed triumph over his underlings and the slaves they commanded. I would need to send word to Vance; be discreet, be patient. Vance could be a threat not just to the slaver’s operation, but to Morgana’s bullshit that she dared to bury me in.

I leaned forward, my eyes narrowing as I observed Garrett’s actions. If I were still bound to Morgana, that is, if I still embraced her divine task with the passion I had weeks ago, Garrett’s actions would have been the perfect play to cement my power in this world, and I may have made similar choices, but not with slaves, that was just stupid. The thought churned my stomach. I’d made him, and now he was taking the liberty of using that power to ruin all of my efforts to clean up this city. If he got too bold... if he dared to act independently, he would have to die.

I shifted my focus back to the immediate danger. Vance’s recent test run had shown me something vital: the newer generations of these parasites were adapting faster than I’d anticipated. They were beginning to mirror not only my skills but also my vulnerabilities. I needed to know if he had access to the shadows or if his knowledge was limited to his hosts’ abilities. This was not just a matter of maintaining control—it was a race against time. If Garrett’s replication spread unchecked—and I had no way of knowing if he had already begun splitting—, his network would soon become an army, a dangerous loose end in Morgana’s intricate design, but somehow I felt like she wouldn’t mind. This was chaos after all.

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