The Incubus System Chapter 1373. My Peace

The Incubus System Chapter 1373. My Peace

I frowned. The thought had been creeping there, quiet and sharp.

I stared up at the eye. “Wait… you. Are you… a Nephilim too?”

“No,” it said simply. “I am not Nephilim. But I am… a strange creature. I was born of power no realm wished to claim. I have no place in heaven. None in hell. None in the realm of mortals. So I remained here.”

It floated a little higher, orbit shifting. “I dwell in the borders. The space between. I guard it. Not for purpose. Not for glory. But because this… this is my peace. This edge of everything, where judgment cannot find me.”

I went still.

Yeah. That place. The edge.

Where rules blur. Where no gods write laws.

That did sound like peace. The kind where no one knocks. No one drags you out by your wings or horns.

It floated closer. Not threatening. Just… sincere.

“So, Ethan… if you want peace… you can join me.”

The temperature around me dipped. The world felt thinner.

“This emptiness… is peace.”

I shuddered. The offer wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t even seductive.

It was real. A kind of final stillness.

But I knew, deep in my gut, that wasn’t the peace I wanted.

“No,” I said. My voice trembled a little, but I didn’t look away. “That peace… isn’t what I want.”

The eye’s gaze held mine. “Then you seek belonging. But know this, if you wish to belong, to be held in the hearts of others… you will find endless battle.”

“I know,” I whispered. “But I’ll make my own peace. On my terms.”

The eye was quiet a long moment.

Then, softly…

“I will wait. To see how far you go… and where you fall. Or rise. And if you ever wish to try my peace… we can guard the border together.”

And then…

It vanished.

No sound. No flash. Just gone.

The silence that followed felt hollow. Not heavy. Not dark.

Just… breathless.

No, we were silent.

Until Buni finally broke it.

“That thing gives me the creeps, but like… respectful creeps.”

Rave ruffled his feathers. “An existential midlife crisis in eyeball form.”

Shadow flicked his tail, his gaze still focused on the air where the eye had been. “He offered what he knew. I don’t think he was lying.”

Red whined low. “He sounded… lonely.”

I nodded slowly. “He was.”

Puriel placed her hand gently on mine. Warm, grounding. Her voice was low, steady. “And you’re not.”

I looked at her.

Then at all of them.

The ones who stayed. The ones who saw me as more than my blood.

“…Yeah,” I said, exhaling softly. “Not yet.”

Red tilted his head, ears flopping. “Not yet?”

I ran a hand through my hair, fingers catching in the mess of it. My voice came out quieter than I expected. “I don’t know the future, Red. I wish I did. But… I hope I won’t be alone.”

He whined softly and nudged his head under my hand. “Then we’ll just stay.”

Rave fluttered down from the top shelf and landed on the back of the couch, talons clicking gently. “For how long?”

I shrugged. “Until I fall apart, I guess.”

Shadow let out a sigh from the windowsill, his tail flicking like a metronome. “So… what’s your plan then? For the angels?”

That made the room go quiet again.

Because yeah.

I didn’t have one.

I looked at Puriel, hoping, just maybe, that she’d give me something. A suggestion. A strategy. A hint of divine wisdom. Anything.

She caught the look and frowned like I’d just asked her to solve a calculus equation while juggling swords.

“What?” she asked. “Don’t look at me like that. I have nothing to say.”

Red groaned. “Wait. So… no plan?”

I raised both hands in mock surrender. “Not yet, alright?”

They all stared at me.

Buni’s ears drooped. Rave tilted his head dramatically. Shadow blinked slowly like he was already writing my eulogy.

I sighed. “Okay. Hey. In my defense, I have minimum knowledge about the Light Dimension, alright? It’s not like I can pull up a divine map and go, ‘Ah yes, step one, smite the bureaucracy.’”

Rave mumbled, “I bet there is a map…”

I rubbed my temples. “So pardon me if I haven’t written a thesis on how to de-escalate centuries of celestial prejudice and divine xenophobia while still attending business classes and hiding from stalker angels with flaming spears.”

Buni raised his paw. “What’s xenophobia?”

“Fear of things not like you,” Shadow answered before I could.

Buni blinked. “Like frogs?”

“No, Buni. Not like frogs.”

“I mean frogs are weird.”

“They’re not the enemy, Bun.”

“Are you sure?”

“Buni,” I groaned.

Puriel chuckled softly, just once. Quiet. The kind of laugh that slipped out when someone forgets they’re supposed to be serious.

I sighed and leaned back into the couch, the cushions swallowing me up again. “Fine. Whatever. I’m hungry. I’m gonna make dinner before I have another philosophical meltdown or someone else shows up to question my existence.”

“Permission to assist in the kitchen, sir?” Red barked, already bouncing to his paws.

“You can watch,” I said.

I grumbled and stood up, stretching until my back popped. My bones felt heavy. Not from age, but from weariness. A tiredness that had nothing to do with muscle or sleep. I could still feel the echo of that colossal eye behind my ribs. Not watching me. Just… waiting. And somehow that was worse.

The lights in the kitchen flickered on as I stepped in. Everything was quiet, too quiet, except for the soft tap of paws and feathers trailing after me.

I grabbed a pan, the cold metal grounding in my hand. Opened the fridge. Scanned. Closed it. Reopened it again even though I couldn’t changed the contents with magic. Just… hoping, I guess.

Eventually I settled on noodles. Easy. Fast. Comfort food in a bowl.

The stove clicked to life. Heat curled under my fingers. The sizzle of garlic hitting oil filled the room. That familiar scent, salty, savory, rich with toasted spice, wrapped around me like a hug.

I stirred the noodles, watching the steam rise, the smell of soy and chili and something buttery filling the air. It didn’t fix anything.

But for a moment, it helped me breathe. Just breathe.

And that was enough. For now.