Incubus Living In A World Of Superpower Users-Chapter 241: Mother!!

The ride back was silent.

None of them said anything, and there was no need to. The silence wasn’t awkward or tense. It just... fit like the air had nothing left to carry.

The wind outside had calmed. The snow wasn’t rising anymore, but it hadn’t started falling either. It hung in the sky, motionless, like it was waiting for something.

Lilith sat near the front of the vehicle, her posture straight. Her coat was still smooth, unwrinkled, not a single flake of frost on it.

Her silver-white hair rested softly over her shoulder, catching the red from the sky that hadn’t fully faded yet.

Seraphina was behind her, checking the interface panel in front of her. The signals from the other temples were still gone—each one dimmed, disabled, silenced. Every cult cell, every backup line, everything they’d hidden... gone.

Liliana leaned back with her arms crossed, eyes half-closed but alert. Her lance rested beside her, humming quietly, almost like it hadn’t stopped sensing danger.

Isabella stayed closest to the rear door. One leg crossed over the other. Relaxed. But her eyes hadn’t stopped scanning the world outside, and the shadows at her feet hadn’t returned to normal. They stayed close to her boots, rippling gently, as if still hungry.

None of them felt like this was over.

Not really.

They didn’t say it out loud, but something had changed back there. The moment Lilith laid that black stone down, the room felt heavier not just with presence, but with attention. Something had noticed them.

And it hadn’t turned away.

The vehicle rolled past a frozen ridge, then followed a narrow trail along a mountain ledge. They didn’t take the usual return path.

Seraphina had changed the route manually. Not because it was safer, but because the old one no longer felt usable. It felt tainted. Not by magic. Just by what had happened.

When they finally saw the mansion in the distance, none of them reacted. It was just there, tall, still, and untouched. Its walls lit faintly from within, the lights steady and warm.

But none of them looked comfortable.

Not yet.

The vehicle stopped just outside the side entrance.

Lilith stepped out first. The air shifted slightly as her boots hit the stone steps, and the snow near her feet flattened again.

She didn’t rush. She didn’t speak. She simply walked toward the door, and it opened before she touched it.

Inside, the warmth greeted them as usual, but even that felt different.

No servants moved through the hall—no sounds of cooking or conversation. The entire staff had been quietly dismissed earlier that day by Isabella, just in case.

Lilith walked through the hall, and her daughters followed. They didn’t head to the lounge. They didn’t go to their rooms. They walked straight to the war room.

Once the door sealed behind them, the soundproofing clicked in. The lights inside stayed dim, and the central table lit up, showing the map of all known cult activity.

Red zones. Blue lines. Archive tags. The works.

Only now... it was almost empty.

Seraphina stood in front of the display and tapped the map open wider.

"All thirty-four base nodes are dark. Confirmed." Her voice was calm. Professional. "No external movement in the past three hours. Nothing has responded to the fallback signals. Either they’re truly gone..."

"Or hiding deeper," Liliana finished for her. "In something we couldn’t trace."

"Even if they are," Isabella said from her side, "they’ve lost their foothold. That temple was the last stable access point."

Lilith didn’t say anything.

Her eyes were still on the table, but not focused on the data—more like she was staring through it.

Seraphina hesitated, then added, "There’s one small ping. Below us. In the vault system. Sector Nine."

Isabella’s eyes flicked over.

"That’s not supposed to be active. That floor was sealed two years ago."

Liliana looked up now. "What’s the signal?"

Seraphina adjusted the zoom. "It’s faint. Non-aggressive. Reads like a localized scan request. Duration: five seconds. No spread. No pulse."

"Could it be something related to the cult we destroyed?" Isabella muttered.

"No." Lilith finally spoke. "Whatever it is, we need to check it."

The room quieted again.

Everyone knew what she meant.

Sector Nine had nothing in it. That was the whole point. It was a blank shell, meant to absorb signal chaff and cloak real pathways. If something was inside it now...

It had entered uninvited.

Lilith stepped away from the table and walked toward the reinforced stairwell door.

"Stay here."

Seraphina didn’t argue.

Isabella straightened but didn’t follow.

Liliana uncrossed her arms. "You sure?"

"Yes."

Lilith’s tone was light. Not cold. But absolute.

She turned and walked toward the far wall of the war room.

A narrow section of paneling slid open without a sound, revealing a private transit shaft—one only she could access.

There was no elevator inside. Just a small circular platform that shimmered faintly under her feet as she stepped onto it.

The descent began instantly.

No sound. No motion.

Just darkness pulling past the edges of the shaft like water slipping down glass.

Seconds later, the platform slowed to a stop.

The panel opened again.

She stepped out alone.

The halls here were different. Narrower. Older. The light didn’t hum. It just pulsed softly along the edges of the floor, responding to her presence.

Not everything in the house was built to handle her when she was like this.

She reached the sealed door of Sector Nine.

The scan pad flickered once, then glowed blue.

"Identity confirmed," a calm voice spoke.

The door opened.

Inside was quiet.

Not empty—quiet.

The room was large. Circular. Walls made of reinforced alloy and suppression crystal. It had been designed to contain high-tier anomalies.

But right now, there were no restraints, no barriers, no restraints active.

Just a single massive fruit hovering in the center.

Black, smooth, about the size of a human.

It turned slowly in place.

Lilith didn’t get closer.

She just looked at it.

The fruit didn’t react.

But the room did.

The walls pulsed once. Faintly. And then... the air shifted.

A whisper—not in her ears. In her mind.

One word, or maybe more like a question, something that would shock the everyone else in the Nocturne family if they were here.

"Mother?"

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