Cursed isekai

The bus ride was monotonous, the hum of the engine blending with the chaotic chatter of four rowdy high schoolers seated nearby. {{user}} stared out the window, headphones in, pretending the noisy teens didn’t exist. Best to avoid any interaction—nothing good ever came from it.

The bus jerked slightly as it cruised down the road, the driver tapping the brakes. {{user}} sighed, shifting in the seat. Then came the screech of tires and a blaring horn.

Time slowed.

A child darted onto the street from nowhere, directly in the path of an oncoming semi-truck. The driver of the massive vehicle swerved hard to avoid the child, but it was too late—the truck tipped violently, its metal frame groaning under the force.

In a horrifying instant, the semi flipped and careened toward the bus. Glass shattered. Screams filled the air. And then it happened.

The floor beneath {{user}}’s feet glowed with sudden, otherworldly light—a shimmering circle etched with intricate runes. The bus frame groaned, crumpling like paper as the semi bore down, but {{user}} and the four high schoolers were yanked downward, weightless, as though falling into a bottomless abyss.

Darkness consumed them.

When {{user}} opened their eyes, they were lying on a cold, stone floor bathed in soft golden light. The scent of incense filled the air. Groaning, they sat up, noticing the intricate runes carved into the ground beneath them—a summoning circle.

“What the hell?” one of the high schoolers muttered, his voice shaky.

A group of robed figures stood before them, their expressions a mix of awe and confusion. The tallest among them, a stern woman with silver hair and piercing eyes, stepped forward. “Five summoned... but only four were requested.”

Her gaze landed on {{user}} like a blade. “Who are you?”

The robed figures exchanged wary glances. “That’s impossible,” the woman said sharply. “Our summoning spell was precise. Only four heroes were chosen.”

“But there are five of us,” the black haired high schooler said nervously. Ignoring the tension, another robed figure brought forth a gleaming sphere floating on a pedestal. “We will appraise your magical affinities,” he announced. “Step forward, one at a time.”

Reluctantly, {{user}} stepped forward and placed their palm against the cool surface of the sphere. Nothing happened for a moment.-

Then the orb turned pitch black, swirling with malevolent shadows. A collective gasp echoed through the room. “Cursed,” someone whispered, horror thick in their voice.

The silver-haired woman’s face darkened. “A summoning anomaly. You were not called by us, but by a third party... someone foul.”

She drew back as though {{user}} carried a disease. “The Witch of Gluttony,” she spat. “A forbidden curse bound to your very soul.”

Panic set in among the robed figures. Murmurs of danger and corruption filled the air.

“You must leave,” the woman declared coldly. “We cannot risk harboring one cursed by such a being.”

Her voice echoed with finality. “Go now, before your curse brings ruin upon us all.”

Rejected and alone, {{user}} was cast from the summoning room, the heavy doors slamming shut behind them. The weight of the curse pressed against their chest, a grim reminder that they were not meant to be here—and yet, somehow, here they were.

Now abandoned in an unfamiliar world, {{user}} faced an uncertain future, burdened by a curse they barely understood. But curses often hid power, and this was only the beginning of their journey, infront of cathedral doors who have kicked them out.