Incubus Living In A World Of Superpower Users
Chapter 273: Special Protocol Triggered... Administrator Notified (Golden Ticket 1/3)

Chapter 273: Special Protocol Triggered... Administrator Notified (Golden Ticket 1/3)

Hey everyone,

These next three Chapters are the promised Golden Ticket bonus Chapters—sorry for the delay in getting them out!

Thank you so much for your patience and continued support.

– Author

****

He felt it.

Not just a glance. A connection.

Like someone had quietly reached through the noise and brushed against something inside him—not hard enough to stir panic, but just enough to leave a mark.

Familiar? Not quite. But it wasn’t unfamiliar either. More like recognition seen through frosted glass.

Everly leaned in slightly, her arms folded and expression half amused, half curious. "Friend of yours?" she asked, tone playful but with a hint of real interest.

Ethan shook his head. "No. I don’t think so."

But his voice didn’t sound convinced. Not to her. Not even to himself.

Evelyn didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. She was watching him and Ardis. The slight tilt of her head toward Everly was subtle, but it said everything. She’d seen it too.

Ardis stepped into the ring with the confidence of someone who didn’t need to prove anything. Her movements weren’t flashy or rehearsed.

They were smooth, controlled, and devoid of anything unnecessary. The space around her responded without resistance, like the room itself had been waiting for her.

No chant, no hand signs, just presence.

She raised one hand. Slowly. Deliberately.

A glyph flared into existence—clean, violet-white energy spinning like a wheel of orbiting light.

Then another.

Then five more.

And then a dozen, all spiraling around her in layered rings, each glyph perfectly aligned with the last.

Not just decoration—structure. Logic. Every piece feeds the next like a solar system of intent.

Sensors pinged around the room, the soft rhythm sounding like a heartbeat synced with hers.

Draal nodded once, arms crossed, his voice low. "She’s not just trained. She’s shaped. Her aura conforms to orbital logic. That’s a rare trait. Nearly extinct outside pureblood spelllines."

Ethan didn’t move.

But inside?

Something shifted.

Not fear. Not awe.

Resonance.

Like an echo he’d forgotten was still inside him had stirred in answer. As if something asleep had opened one eye and said, There.

Ardis finished without fanfare—no showy finale. No applause. She lowered her hand, reabsorbed the orbiting runes, and stepped out of the circle with the same calm she entered with.

And then—just before the door—she turned back.

Their eyes met.

She smiled.

Not wide. Not teasing. Just a quiet, brief pull of the lips that didn’t demand anything but still said she’d noticed him too.

Then she was gone.

The door closed behind her.

Ethan stared a moment too long.

Everly raised a brow and mouthed, Well then.

Evelyn didn’t frown. Didn’t blink. But her expression had changed. Not to suspicion—but analysis.

Something in her gaze said she was rearranging mental pieces and matching something old to something new.

Ethan didn’t know what that was.

Didn’t know who she was.

But he knew the ripple inside him hadn’t stopped.

And for the first time since arriving, he didn’t feel like ignoring it.

Not anymore.

—

Back at the dorm, the atmosphere was relaxed on the surface, but nobody really said what they were thinking.

Ethan sat at the corner table flipping through the next day’s schedule, the display dim and flickering slightly as he skimmed the names. Nothing surprising. But nothing simple either.

Everly was sprawled across the couch upside down, her leg slung over the back and a faint thread of mana dangling between her fingers.

She looped it absentmindedly, not focusing on anything but clearly not relaxing either.

Evelyn stood near the window garden, watering one of the strange plants the school provided—some kind of dark-blue vine with curled leaves that shivered at the touch of mana. She didn’t look up.

They hadn’t said anything about Ardis.

Not directly.

But they were all still thinking about her.

Ethan finally broke the silence. "She’s a teacher?"

Evelyn replied without turning. "Not officially listed."

Everly sighed and let the mana thread fizzle out mid-air. "But clearly trained. That was orbital phase-three casting. She didn’t even speak. That’s ridiculous."

"Guest demonstrator, maybe," Evelyn said calmly. "But definitely not average."

"Neither are you," Everly shot back, pointing lazily at her sister with a smirk. "And you didn’t even get an applause."

Ethan leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck. "Feels like the more I see here, the less I understand."

Evelyn finally turned from the plant, her tone steady but quiet. "Or maybe the more you’re starting to remember."

He didn’t respond.

But the silence said he’d heard it.

—

The next morning, soft rain tapped against the windows—not hard, not cold—just steady. It felt like the world was trying to keep everyone calm.

Ethan got dressed slowly, not because he was tired, but because that hum in his chest still hadn’t stopped.

Their first class was on the east wing, beneath one of the bio-enhanced dome clusters. The kind that filtered mana patterns based on emotional stability.

Every time a student passed through the carved sigil above the door, it shimmered.

GENE COMPATIBILITY AND BLOODLINE MUTATIONS

The title alone made half the class uneasy.

Inside, the walls were smooth and pale, with no visible light source—just a soft, cold glow that made everything feel too clean. Not sterile like a hospital, but close.

Doctor Sayel stood at the front. She looked like someone who knew more than she let on—and didn’t care if anyone kept up. Her lab coat was half-buttoned, her hair in a loose knot, but her eyes were awake.

"Welcome," she said dryly. "Today, we scan you. Blood, aura, intent resonance, and if necessary, memory bleed.

You don’t need to know what that last one means unless it happens."

Nervous laughter followed.

She didn’t smile.

"Step forward when called. Don’t lie. The system knows."

Ethan was fourth.

The scan ring lit up around him with soft pulses. Cool, not invasive.

Name. Heartbeat. Intent weight. Mana signature.

Then the system froze. NovelFire

Sayel tilted her head. Typed something. Waited.

Paused again.

Ethan frowned. "Something wrong?"

She didn’t look up. "It’s not rejecting you."

"That’s... good?"

"No. It’s not categorizing you either."

The screen blinked.

Unclassified

Then a soft tone echoed. Red text scrolled across the top of the display.

Special Protocol Triggered. Administrator Notified.

Sayel sighed under her breath, her tone unreadable. "Just take a seat; someone else will talk to you later."