July 13, 2026

The Incubus System Chapter 1492. Blood Coma

Ethan’s PoV

I opened my eyes slowly.

The morning sun peeked through the curtain in a very unusual way.

My brain rebooted like an old computer that had been kicked by a demon and blessed by an angel at the same time.

First thought? ‘Ceiling.’

Second thought? ‘That is not my ceiling.’

Third thought? ‘Am I kidnapped again?’

At this point, waking up somewhere unfamiliar had become less of a shocking event and more of a weekly scheduling hazard.

I stared at the foreign ceiling for several seconds.

Dark wood beams.

Subtle silver pattern along the edges.

A chandelier-like thing hanging in the middle, small and elegant, with red crystals instead of normal bulbs.

Okay.

That wasn’t my room in Lust City.

Not my room in the Demon World capital either.

So…

Where the hell was I?

I turned my head toward the clock.

Or where the clock should have been.

The clock was gone.

Murdered by interior design.

In its place? A coffin.

Mounted elegantly against the wall.

Ah.

Right.

My bedroom. Redecorated by demon queens and my little sister while I was at college.

Fantastic.

Nothing said “normal student life” like waking up, looking for the time, and making eye contact with a luxury coffin.

I blinked at it.

The coffin did not blink back.

Good. If it did, I was moving.

Then I looked toward the corner.

Syntyche was sleeping in a hammock made of her own silk web, suspended near the window like an extremely beautiful nightmare spider who had decided beds were for peasants. Her hair spilled through the webbing like black water, one arm hanging lazily over the side, her expression softer in sleep than she ever allowed herself to look while awake.

I turned my head the other way.

Nefaris was in bed beside me.

Completely out.

The vampire queen’s hair spread over the pillow, her lips faintly parted, her face peaceful in a way that made her look almost innocent.

Then I remembered last night and corrected myself.

Not innocent.

Food coma.

Okay, correction. Blood coma.

Because yesterday she drank my blood like it was premium royal wine from a forbidden cellar, then proceeded to act like she had discovered enlightenment through neck biting.

She was still asleep now, one hand resting near my waist, fingers curled lightly against the sheet.

I stared at her.

Then muttered, “You look way too proud for someone unconscious.”

I slowly sat up.

My body felt fine. Better than fine, actually. The usual demonic regeneration had handled everything. My muscles were relaxed. My mind was clearer. The heavy feeling from yesterday had not disappeared, but it had been pushed into the background enough for me to function.

Which meant…

My gaze moved toward the desk.

The new desk.

On top of it, my book was still open.

My homework was there.

Unfinished.

I stared at it.

The homework stared back.

Judgmentally.

Yeah.

I remembered now.

I had tried to do it last night after the whole thing. Shockingly, my brain had not cooperated.

I had opened the book, held a pen, read the same paragraph five times, then started thinking about whether Aurelion could track holy resonance through dreams or whether Larry’s veil would hold, whether Celia was still safe.

Pathetic.

Eventually, I had decided to call it a day.

Or rather, my brain filed a formal complaint and shut down.

I rubbed my face.

“Okay,” I whispered. “I’m still here. Now… homework.”

I carefully moved Nefaris’s hand off me.

She made a small sound and curled into the pillow.

I slipped out of bed like a thief escaping a royal chamber and moved to the desk.

I sat down and looked at the homework.

“Alright,” I muttered. “Round two.”

Then I started working.

And yeah.

When I actually focused?

It was fast.

The concepts that had felt like swamp water last night arranged themselves neatly in my head. Notes connected. Arguments formed. My hand moved across the page, writing answers, structuring paragraphs, finishing sections one by one.

It almost made me angry.

Because if my brain could do this, why did it choose last night to become a haunted soup?

Okay. After what happened, maybe haunted soup was justified.

I worked quietly for a while.

The room stayed peaceful.

Thirty minutes later, I finished.

All of it.

I stared at the last line.

Then leaned back.

“I’m proud of myself.”

And honestly?

I was.

A normal person would not understand how heroic that sentence was.

Homework looked simple from the outside. But for me? Finishing homework after yesterday was practically an achievement worthy of a system reward.

That was character development.

“See? This is why I still go to college.”

I placed my pen down.

A normal bath waited for me.

Then my system pinged.

[Warning! An unidentified creature is approaching!]

I froze.

The towel in my hand sagged.

The air in front of my desk twisted.

The crack widened.

Then something peeked through.

An eyeball.

Tennis ball size.

I stared.

It stared back.

Then it looked at my homework.

Then back to me.

I narrowed my eyes. “What? You want to comment about my homework too?”

The colossal eye blinked.

Slowly.

Then its voice entered my head directly.

Straight inside the skull.

‘The light already made their move’.

I sighed. “Yeah. I know that clearly.”

The eye floated closer.

I leaned back slightly because even though I had fought angels, demons, and nightmare creatures, nobody enjoyed having a disembodied eyeball invade personal desk space before breakfast.

It stared at me.

Then somehow, despite being an eyeball, it looked offended.

‘No.’

I blinked. “No?”

‘They are moving.’

“I just said I know.”

The eye drifted near my finished homework again, glanced at the pages like it was judging my essay structure, then returned its pupil to me. ‘The one who wants purity.’

A cold feeling slid into my chest. ‘The one who sees you as failure.’

The eye’s pupil tightened. ‘Just like me.’

I didn’t joke immediately.

That alone said enough.

I slowly placed the towel on the chair. “The king?”