The Incubus System Chapter 1224. Special Interview
The Incubus System Chapter 1224. Special Interview Elenna’s and others’ PoV Down below, amidst the chaos of press badges, humming generator
The Incubus System Chapter 1224. Special Interview
Elenna’s and others’ PoV
Down below, amidst the chaos of press badges, humming generators, and blinking drone lights, Elenna’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding.
She stood firm, center stage in the paved courtyard of the south complex building, boots planted, hair tied tight, coat flaring just enough to look accidental — but very much not.
She was surrounded by it all — boom mics poised like spears, shoulder cameras adjusting for light, reporters murmuring updates into headsets. The city was still healing, but this place? This was a goddamn warzone dressed up in caution tape and streetlights.
And she loved every second of it.
Her fingers curled around the mic. “Team, are we rolling?”
A quick voice crackled back through her earpiece. “Audio sync locked. Drone 2’s feed clean. Standby for visual countdown.”
Elenna didn’t respond.
She couldn’t.
Because her eyes had locked upward.
High above.
On the rooftop.
A shadow against the night sky.
A tall, lean silhouette — unmistakable.
He stood on the edge of the world like it was built for him.
And beside him, two women.
No.
Not women.
Queens.
One cloaked in shimmering red, her long hair flicking like blades in the wind. The other in violet and black, skin like porcelain, eyes like daggers dipped in wine.
And behind them? Shapes that moved wrong.
Shadow beasts. Creatures with too many eyes. Familiar but corrupted. Loyal.
Elenna swallowed hard.
“C’mon…” she whispered.
Her grip on the mic tightened.
“Get down here already…”
And then—
“HEY! You!”
A burly man in a bulletproof vest stepped in front of her, waving his arm. His badge read City Enforcement – Response Unit.
“This area is closed. You and your crew need to clear out. Now.”
Elenna barely glanced at him. “I have clearance. Special access from the Crisis Broadcast Board. Check the file.”
The officer didn’t budge. “Don’t care what board you’re from. There’s classified movement happening in this sector. That rooftop is a red zone.”
Her camera team tried to stay calm, but the moment she turned back to them, another officer appeared—pushing a tripod aside.
Tension spread like spilled gasoline.
“Sir,” one of her interns said nervously, “we’re with Channel Omega. We were invited to—”
“Move back. This is your last warning.”
The officers tightened their formation. Two more vehicles pulled in. Flashing red-blue lights bled across the pavement like an open wound.
Push.
A tripod clattered.
Shove.
One of her photographers cursed.
Elenna growled. “Hey! Back off! This is protected coverage—”
“I said clear out!”
Another push. Her shoulder slammed against the news van.
She spun toward the rooftop again—
Gone.
The figures.
The queens.
Him.
Had he teleported? Jumped?
She didn’t know.
Didn’t care.
She just knew she needed to get this coverage.
“Hold the perimeter,” she barked into her earpiece, voice low and urgent. “Nobody pulls out. Keep the drones in hover until I say otherwise.”
One of the younger officers stepped forward, his voice softer. “Ma’am, this really isn’t safe. We’ve had some serious casualties tonight. This whole thing’s spiraling.”
Elenna didn’t respond right away.
Because she heard it first.
The hum.
Not from the sirens.
Not the drones.
Mana.
Thick, electric. Vibrating in the bones before it reached the ears.
It pulsed like thunder disguised as silk.
A second later—
-Boom!
Wind exploded outward in every direction.
Lights flickered.
The air shifted like it was being rewritten.
And then, in the middle of them,
Right there—on cracked cement between a fallen street lamp and the Channel Omega drone van—
He appeared.
Cloaked in blackened infernal armor that shimmered like obsidian dipped in blood.
Two curved horns arched from his head, obsidian and smooth, glowing faintly from within.
His eyes burned like eclipses—dark gold rings around endless red.
His wings spread out like a predator stretching after a long nap.
And behind him—
Two queens.
One smiled like she wanted to taste someone.
The other? Tilted her head like she was calculating which officer would scream loudest.
Cameras were already rolling.
Drones refocused midair.
Reporters froze.
Some gasped.
One officer outright fell backward.
The demon prince looked up.
Right at the lens.
“Good evening, everyone.”
His voice cut through the air like a sermon of sin.
Not loud. Not cruel.
But final.
Like a full stop to a sentence no one had the courage to finish.
And in that instant—
The entire world leaned in.
To watch.
To fear.
To remember.
The broadcast had begun.
And he was the story now.
Elenna’s breath caught somewhere between her ribs and her throat. Her pulse—already chaotic from the rooftop sighting—flatlined for a second. Not from terror. No. It was something more primal than that. Reverence, maybe. Awe. That thing you feel when the sky splits open and you realize the gods you’ve been praying to your whole life were looking the wrong way.
The demon prince stood in the wreckage like he was born from it.
And maybe he was.
Elenna’s knees almost gave out.
Not from fear.
From want.
She had imagined this moment a hundred times.
This was not some moody half-demon with a secret.
This was the next king of hell, and he had just arrived on camera.
Behind her, the press line was collapsing into barely organized panic.
The younger reporter to her left was shaking so hard his lens cap fell off. One of the sound techs dropped their boom mic entirely. Another tried to run but tripped over the tangled cords near the news van.
“Fall back!” a City Enforcement officer barked, his voice cracking with effort. “Everyone—FALL BACK! Get down! Guns ready!”
But they weren’t talking to the demon.
Not directly.
The rifles aimed to the demons. But they retreated.
The order wasn’t a command to him.
It was a command because of him.
“Shut the feed!” one of the police captains yelled. “Pull all live feeds—pull it now—!”
“No,” Elenna said, louder than she meant.
No one listened.
A camera behind her panned away.