Strongest Incubus System

The vibration in the frozen world didn’t disappear immediately. It continued to ripple through the air in almost imperceptible waves, as if something enormous were breathing behind the landscape itself. The snow stopped falling for a few seconds, suspended in the air, and Damon realized it wasn’t an illusion. Each flake seemed trapped between one instant and another, motionless, awaiting a silent command to return to normal existence.

Xue Lian remained standing in front of him, her eyes fixed on the horizon. The layer of ice on her body slowly advanced, climbing up the side of her neck and reaching part of her jaw, but she didn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps she did notice and had simply chosen to ignore it. Her attention was entirely focused on something beyond the black mountains, something Damon couldn’t yet see, but already instinctively felt.

”What do you mean by ’shouldn’t be here’?” Damon asked, keeping his voice low, though he didn’t know exactly why.

Xue Lian took a while to answer. When she finally spoke, her voice was different. Less distant, less ironic, less tired. There was precision in her now, a practical coldness that left no room for jokes. ”This place is sealed off,” she said. ”Not completely, but enough to keep certain things out.”

Damon looked around at the crystalline pillars, the corpses trapped in the ice, and the mountains that seemed to watch silently. ”You’re saying something got in anyway.”

”Yes.”

”Something alive?”

Xue Lian narrowed her eyes. ”I don’t know if that word applies.”

That answer didn’t help at all. Damon felt his fingers slowly close at his sides, without realizing it. There was something about that environment that made every instinct sharper and, at the same time, more useless. He wanted to run, but he didn’t know where. He wanted to fight, but he didn’t know what against. He wanted to ask more, but he was beginning to understand that perhaps too many answers would only make things worse.

The snow started falling again suddenly.

Not gently.

It fell all at once, as if the world had remembered to keep functioning. Thousands of snowflakes descended simultaneously, filling the air between them and the horizon. But behind that white curtain, Damon saw something move. Not a clear figure, nor a defined shadow. Just a distant displacement, too large to be mistaken for an animal, too fast to be a falling mountain.

Xue Lian slowly raised one hand.

The wind died down.

The snow ahead of them parted into a narrow corridor, pushed aside by an invisible force. The path revealed a stretch of smooth ice that followed between crystalline formations to a lower depression in the terrain. There, in the center of a shallow crater, was something dark.

Damon squinted.

It looked like a door.

Not exactly a door built by human hands, but a vertical opening in the air, surrounded by black cracks that spread through the space like broken veins. The very reality around it seemed wounded. Tiny particles of ice were pulled into the opening and disappeared without a sound. Every now and then, a dark pulse escaped from there, making the surrounding crystalline structures vibrate.

”Was this here before?” Damon asked.

”No.”

”Great. Of course not.”

Xue Lian started walking toward the crater.

Damon grabbed her arm before thinking better of it. The contact was so cold it burned, but he didn’t let go immediately. ”Wait. You’re getting worse. I can see it.”

She looked at his hand holding her arm. Then she looked at him. She didn’t seem annoyed, just surprised by the gesture. ”I know.”

”Then maybe we shouldn’t walk straight to the thing you can’t even explain.”

”If we don’t go to it, it will come to us.”

Damon was silent for a second. ”I hate when bad answers make sense.”

”Then you’re going to hate this place a lot.”

She pulled away easily, but not abruptly. She just kept walking. Damon took a deep breath and followed her, keeping a certain distance while observing the dark opening ahead. With each step, the pressure increased. It wasn’t like ordinary mana, nor like murderous intent. It was more like remembering something that had never happened to him. A false, unpleasant nostalgia that tried to take root in his head.

Then he heard voices.

Low.

Many.

Whispering beneath the ice.

Damon stopped.

Xue Lian also stopped, but didn’t look back. ”Don’t answer.”

He swallowed hard. ”I didn’t even hear anything clearly.”

”You will.”

The voices grew louder the next instant. Some seemed distant, others so close that Damon had the impression someone was speaking directly behind his ear. They weren’t complete sentences at first, just fragments of words, broken names, interrupted requests. Then they began to organize themselves.

Damon.

He froze.

The voice was familiar.

Very familiar.

Damon felt his stomach sink before he even fully recognized it. It was the voice of someone long dead. Someone who shouldn’t exist in that place, in that world, at that moment. He clenched his jaw, trying to stay focused, but the voice continued.

”Why did you let it?”

Xue Lian turned his face slightly. ”I told you not to answer.”

”I didn’t answer.”

”Inside matters too.”

That irritated him because it was probably true. Damon closed his eyes for a second, forcing his breathing to remain steady. When he opened them again, he realized the crater was closer than before. Not because they had walked. Because the distance had decreased on its own.

”Is it pulling us in?” he asked.

”It’s trying.”

”And you’re letting it?”

”I’m watching.”

”That’s the kind of thing insane people say before they die.” Xue Lian almost smiled, but the expression vanished too quickly. ”I’ve died in worse places.”

Damon couldn’t decide if that was a joke or a confession. Before he could ask, the dark opening pulsed again. This time, something emerged from within. First a hand, long and pale, with fingers too thin. Then another. Both gripped the invisible edges of the fissure, as if pulling a body out of a narrow well.

Damon took a step back.

The creature emerged slowly.

It was tall, thin, almost human, but not quite. The face had no eyes, only a smooth surface of translucent skin marked by dark lines that moved like ink underwater. The mouth existed, but it was sealed shut by strands of black ice stitched directly onto the skin. Its body was covered in plates of broken crystal, and within those plates Damon saw faces.

Many faces.

Trapped.

Screaming silently.

”Xue Lian,” he called, now barely concealing his tension.

”I saw.”

The creature turned its head toward her, even without eyes.

Then it knelt.

Damon stopped breathing for a moment.

Xue Lian didn’t react.

The creature bowed its head until it touched the ice before her, as if paying homage. When it spoke, the voice didn’t come from its stitched mouth. It came from all the faces trapped within its body, layered in a low, broken chorus.

”We finally found the flower.”

Damon felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Not because of the creature itself, but because of Xue Lian’s reaction. For the first time since he’d met her, her expression truly changed.

Not much.

But enough.

Her eyes were empty for a second.

Then dangerously calm.

”Who sent you?” she asked.

The creature remained kneeling. ”The one who remembers the first winter.”

The ice around Xue Lian’s feet began to crack.

Damon immediately sensed that this answer meant something. Something ancient. Something personal. Something that perhaps was better left untouched. ”Do you know this name?”

Xue Lian didn’t answer.

The creature continued speaking, the chorus of voices coming out in mismatched tones. ”He said you would walk to the fortress. He said you would still search for the flower. He said you would still believe you were choosing.”

The wind returned all at once.

Violent.

The snow swirled around them as Xue Lian’s pressure exploded without warning. It wasn’t a direct attack, but the world reacted as if it were. Nearby crystalline formations cracked. The crater sank a few centimeters. Damon had to steady his feet to avoid being thrown backward.

”Enough,” said Xue Lian.

The creature slowly raised its head. Even without eyes, he seemed to smile.

”He also said you’d bring someone.”

Damon felt the nonexistent gaze turn to him.

”Someone still warm.”

The ice beneath his feet darkened.

Damon leaped back the instant crystalline hands broke through the surface, attempting to grab his ankles. He reflexively drew his blade and severed one, but the broken hand rebuilt itself almost immediately within the ice. Others surged around him, many, all trying to pull him down.

Xue Lian moved two fingers.

A white line streaked across the floor.

All hands froze in a deeper state, so rigid they began to crumble to dust seconds later. Damon regained his balance, breathing heavily.

”Thank you.”

”Don’t die yet.”

”I’ll try not to interfere with your schedule.”

The creature finally stood up.

Its height seemed greater now. The crystal plates on its body opened like broken petals, revealing more faces trapped inside. One by one, they began to whisper the same name.

Xue Lian.

Xue Lian.

Xue Lian.

She took a step forward.

She didn’t seem furious.

This was worse.

The ice covering part of her body stopped growing. For an instant, all decay seemed suspended. Her presence became absolute, as if winter itself had decided to take human form and walk. ”Damon,” she said, without looking back.

”Yes?”

”Stay behind me.”

He looked at the creature, then at the dark crevice, then at the shattered hands on the ground. ”For the first time today, I liked your suggestion.”

The creature opened its arms.

The crevice behind it widened.

And, within the darkness, something much larger moved.