Seven Sins System Chapter 656. Glitching

Seven Sins System Chapter 656. Glitching

Julia blinked. No surprise. No blush. Not even a scoff. Just an amused exhale, slow and measured, like I’d just asked if she wanted coffee instead of chaos.

“Well,” she said, pushing off the desk with a little roll of her hips, “there’s the devil I know.”

I gave a half-smile. Bitter at the edges. “Didn’t realize I left.”

“You didn’t. You’re just glitching.”

My eyebrow twitched. “Glitching?”

“Mm-hmm.” She leaned in slightly, peering at my face like she was reading my system logs. “Emotionally. Spiritually. Sexually, maybe. You look like a server that just got slapped with twenty fatal errors and decided to flirt with the shutdown button.”

I huffed. “That’s pretty specific.”

She smirked. “I’m good at diagnostics.”

I tilted my head. Let my eyes roam for a second—sharp, slow, deliberate. “You’re also good at keeping a straight face while someone you care about spirals into self-destruction.”

“That’s a requirement for being in your harem, isn’t it?” she said sweetly. Then, softer. “Or do you want me to say no?”

I paused. That… actually made me freeze.

My heart didn’t beat any faster. It just felt like it had gone quieter.

I looked at her. Really looked. And for a split second, I saw it—

Not the smirk.

Not the hips.

Not the confidence or the teasing or the battlefield chemistry.

Just Julia.

Tired. Bright. Loyal.

I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes.

The silence was heavy, but not sharp.

Then I huffed.

Low. Bitter. No real humor in it.

“Right. You got me,” I muttered. “My brain’s doing a full system shutdown.”

She didn’t tease me this time.

Didn’t throw back some witty comeback or flex those goddess-level curves to distract me. She just stepped forward, slow and sure, and straddled my lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her thighs bracketed mine. Her hands cupped the sides of my neck, thumbs brushing lightly against my jaw.

Her voice dropped, soft but not gentle. “Tell me. What is it? What can I do?”

I looked at her.

Really looked.

And all that confidence, perfectly controlled heat—it was still there. But so was something else.

Worry.

She wasn’t playing therapist. She wasn’t seducing me.

She was trying.

I swallowed. My throat felt like it had gravel lining it. “You can’t help me.”

She didn’t move.

Didn’t argue.

Just pressed her thumbs a little harder, grounding me in place. “But you can tell me what’s bugging you,” she murmured. “It’s a love problem, right?”

My laugh was dry. “Love problem. Yeah… kinda. But it’s more complicated than that.”

Her head tilted. “Complicated how?”

I sighed again and leaned my forehead against her collarbone. Just for a second. Just enough to breathe in something not soaked in death or divinity or rage.

She smelled like firewood and rosewater.

Comfort and trouble.

She rested her chin on my head. “Maybe,” she whispered, “I can help lighten your heart a little. Even if I can’t fix it.”

I looked up at her. “As long as you don’t say anything to Red. Or Katrina. Or Penelope.”

Her brow lifted. “They’re involved?”

“No,” I said quickly. “But if they know, I’m sure it’ll become more complicated.”

Julia smirked softly. “Understood. Official mentor privilege invoked. I’ll keep it locked.”

I paused. Just for a second longer.

Then I told her.

Not every detail. Not the bloody parts. But enough.

How I stayed in the desert all night, tearing through monsters like I was trying to dig a grave deep enough to bury my anger.

How I eavesdropped on Puriel’s conversation—yeah, using a tentacle. Sue me.

How Selaphira and Lysathiel went at it with velvet claws and truth daggers.

How the so-called ancient demon that ruined my world wasn’t born in the dark—but thrown into it. Twice.

How it was a corrupted archangel. A god’s own mistake.

And how the Queen of Light sent him crashing into my capital like he was a piece of cursed furniture they didn’t want anymore.

Julia didn’t move the whole time.

Her fingers didn’t twitch.

Her breath didn’t hitch.

She listened.

She stayed.

But I saw it. The flicker in her eyes. The slight tension in her shoulders. She was composed, sure—but yes… she was shocked too.

When I finished, she sat back slightly, her hands still on my neck, but her face searching mine.

“So…” she said slowly, voice low. “Her mom is the reason why…”

I nodded once. “Yes.”

Julia looked past me for a second. “The calamity…”

“Was because of her,” I said. “Because the Queen of Light made a decision. One that destroyed everything. She thought she was saving her realm. She was just outsourcing the cost.”

The words were sharp. They cut coming out.

I clenched my jaw. My fingers dug into the arms of the chair.

“And Selaphira?” Julia asked carefully. “She wants to make Puriel your—”

“My leash,” I said bitterly. “Yeah.”

“And it’s… working?”

I laughed again, this time quieter. Tighter. “She’s in my head, Julia. I didn’t even know I was capable of hesitation like this. Me? The me in the past would slap me so hard right now. Punch me even.”

She blinked. “You hesitated to kill her?”

“I couldn’t kill her.”

I didn’t say it dramatically. I just said it.

Because it was true.

“I’ve destroyed kingdoms,” I muttered, staring past Julia’s shoulder like I was watching the sunrise through someone else’s window. “I’ve ended lives for far less. I’ve watched angels and kings kneel and still finished the job.”

“And her?”

I shook my head slowly.

Julia was quiet for a beat.

Then she looked down at my wrist. At the faint, glowing mark still there—the thread of fate wound tight, golden and pulsing like a heartbeat in my skin.

She touched it gently with two fingers.

“But the thread is still on you,” she said softly. “You can’t kill her, remember?”

I scoffed, bitter and tired. “True. But even without it… Maybe… I still wouldn’t. And that’s the part that gets me.”