The Incubus System Chapter 1370. Falls to Man

The Incubus System Chapter 1370. Falls to Man

Puriel stood there, arms folded gently, robes glowing with that soft ambient radiance angels always seemed to have, even when exiled. Even when they didn’t know what to do with themselves. Her brows were drawn ever so slightly, eyes focused on me like she already sensed something big had snapped out of place.

“It’s nothing,” I muttered first. Weak excuse. The kind you throw out when your soul feels like it got run over by a theological truck.

Shadow let out a quiet mrrp as he pawed my chest, like he wasn’t buying it. Red whined, ears pressed back.

“It’s not nothing,” Puriel said calmly.

Of course she’d call my bluff.

Of course she wouldn’t drop it.

So I sat up. Slowly. Pushed Rave off my shoulder, ran a hand through my messy hair, and stared at the floor like it might write my feelings for me.

Then I started talking.

“Today…” I began. My voice cracked a little, which pissed me off more than it should have. “I fought angels. Five of them.”

Puriel blinked. “What?”

“High-ranking,” I added. “Not some low-level choir boys. They were designed for judgment. Shields for chests, runes for bones, wings like rotating guillotines. The real deal.”

She took a step closer, her light dimming a little. Not visibly, just emotionally. Like she already sensed where this was going.

“They came to take me,” I continued. “Said I was disrupting the balance. That my existence was a problem. Not my actions. Not my choices. Just me, being alive.”

Her lips parted like she wanted to speak, but I shook my head and pushed on.

“I tried to talk. Really. I told them I didn’t want a fight. Told them I saved people. That I didn’t ask for this power, or this split bloodline. I just wanted to live.” I let out a dry laugh. “You know what they said?”

Puriel didn’t answer. Her eyes were soft but focused, like she was bracing.

“They said it wasn’t their concern. That the mortal realm wasn’t their problem anymore. That their duty was done the moment they sealed the borders. Everything else? ‘Falls to man.’”

Her breath hitched.

I kept going. My words started coming faster, angrier. My hands curled into fists.

“They abandoned it. The humans. The realm they used to protect. And now I’m standing here, the guy who actually saved people, being hunted by the same assholes who claim to be divine guardians.”

Red whimpered softly again. Shadow curled closer. Buni nestled between my arms, quiet and warm.

“I killed them,” I said flatly. “All five.”

Puriel flinched. It was subtle. But it was real.

“I used everything I had. Demonic power, holy magic, instincts. The whole damn mess. And I didn’t even feel anything when they died. No guilt. No relief. Just… hollow.”

I looked up at her.

“And then... The queen.”

Puriel blinked. “You… met her?”

I nodded. “She sat across from me like we were two students at some brunch mixer. Beautiful. Poised. Smart. She looked at me like she was studying a puzzle. Not judging. Not exactly. But not… warm, either.”

“She didn’t attack you?”

“No,” I said. “She was diplomatic. Graceful. Even kind, maybe. But it didn’t matter. Because when I looked into her eyes, all I saw was calculation. And I realized something.”

“What?”

“I don’t have anyone there,” I said quietly. “Not really. Not in the Light Dimension. In Hell? I’ve got allies. Lilieth, Azrael, Damon. Some of the others. Even demons care more than they admit.”

Puriel’s jaw tensed. Her light shimmered unsteadily now.

“But the Light? They even left you behind,” I said. “You, of all people. If they could cast out their own high angel, what hope do I have?”

She looked like she wanted to argue.

I beat her to it.

“So yeah,” I muttered. “Maybe this is it. Maybe this is my last week of college. Last chance at pretending to be Ethan Strongheart.”

I looked around the room. The furniture. The soft pillows Celia picked out. The clutter of a life I tried to protect.

“I think I need to start preparing to let go.”

Puriel stepped closer. Sat on the couch beside me. Our knees didn’t touch, but her presence brushed against mine like a prayer someone forgot to finish.

“You don’t have to choose yet,” she said gently.

“I think I already did,” I replied.

There was silence.

Then she said something soft. So soft I almost didn’t catch it.

“Why? You don’t have to choose, Ethan.”

I turned to look at her, really look. She wasn’t glowing anymore. Not in that holy-lantern way she usually did. Her light dimmed down to a soft shimmer, like moonlight after a storm. She sat close, posture stiff, hands in her lap like she didn’t trust herself to speak without breaking.

I stared for a long second.

And then I exhaled. Again.

“You heard me,” I said. “Right? What they said?”

She nodded.

“Then you get it. They said they don’t care. About this realm. About mortals. About the humans who still look up at the sky and pray.”

My voice cracked toward the end, not with emotion exactly, just... disbelief. The kind that hits when your foundation buckles and you’re trying not to fall with it.

“I mean— hell, they literally said it. ‘Not our concern.’ After sealing the borders, they’re done. Just clock out. Retire their wings. No follow-ups. No second thoughts.”

Puriel didn’t interrupt. Didn’t flinch. She just watched me quietly. And somehow that made it easier to go on.

I leaned forward, arms on my knees, head in my hands.

“Do you realize what that means?” I said. “It means they could be using humans as shields. Or ignoring it when they get caught in the crossfire. Or… and this is the fun one, maybe even using them as hostages. Leverage.”

My hands clenched.

“I can’t believe this. I literally can’t believe this. I grew up thinking angels were noble. You know, ‘fight for the innocent,’ ‘defend the weak,’ the whole shiny propaganda package.”