Incubus Living In A World Of Superpower Users - Chapter 107

Chapter 107: You All Failed 4
Finally, the silence in the Grayson study had shifted.

Before, it had been cold.

Now, it was heavy.

Mr. Grayson didn’t move from his seat. His hands rested on the desk, his fingers no longer tapping. His eyes were fixed on the last remaining son in the room.

Lucas.

The youngest of the Grayson brothers.

The one with the brightest smile and the darkest shadow.

He had always been the pride of the family, not for his business skills like Vincent, quiet strategy like Darren, or political leverage like Thomas.

Lucas was different.

He had the charm, the confidence, and the raw instinct to get into people’s heads, even though it might cause people to cling to him.

Which was why he’d been given the most important target.

Ethan Nocturne.

The adopted son of Lilith Nocturne.

The only male in the house of monsters, and someone he hated the most and would do anything to switch places with.

But, he could not and he cannot do anything to him either, as that would cause the entire Nocturne family to go after him and the Grayson family.

Lucas didn’t look up.

He sat in the leather chair across from his father, his head slightly bowed, fists clenched on his thighs.

He didn’t dare speak first.

Not after the disasters of his brothers.

And not after what had happened at the academy.

Mr. Grayson finally broke the silence.

“You were our closer.”

His voice wasn’t loud.

It didn’t need to be.

“You were supposed to strike last after the others made contact. After the seeds were planted.

You were supposed to show up, make Ethan crack, and then let us walk in with the rescue. Play the hero. Build favor. Gain access.”

Lucas nodded slowly. “I know.”

Mr. Grayson’s jaw tensed. “And instead, look at you, losing a match so badly, were you even trying?”

Lucas took a breath. “He wasn’t supposed to be that strong.”

Mr. Grayson stood up again, walking to the window behind his desk.

The view outside was flawless—rolling hills, manicured gardens, fountains that cost more than some people’s homes.

But right now, none of it mattered.

“I asked you to handle one boy. One. Not a family. Not a military unit. Not a superpower cult. A single teenage boy, something that was never supposed to be hard.”

Lucas’s voice was quiet. “He’s not normal.”

“I know he’s not normal,” Mr. Grayson snapped, spinning around. “That’s why we were targeting him in the first place.”

He pointed a sharp finger toward Lucas.

“Because he’s the key. Not Lilith. Not Seraphina. Him. They move around him. Protect him.

The entire family is shaped by his presence, and we still don’t know why, but just knowing that he is the key is enough for the plan to work…but it still didn’t.”

Lucas looked up finally, his jaw clenched. “He beat me.”

The room went still again.

“I tried everything. I went after his pride, his position, and even provoked him in public. But he didn’t react the way he should’ve. He waited. He planned. And when he hit back—”

Lucas flinched.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then, finally, I forced the words out.

“It wasn’t just a normal fight. The moment I triggered my gravity and dropped that mist, I thought I’d gained full control.

The arena was mine. I even felt his body give in. The pressure crushed him. I could feel it.”

He paused, face twisting.

“But it wasn’t real. None of it was. He was never under the pressure. He never took a single hit.”

Mr. Grayson raised an eyebrow. “Then what were you doing all that time?”

Lucas swallowed.

“Fighting an illusion,” he muttered. “He… he slipped something into my mind the second I opened it with my ability. Just one second of vulnerability. That was all it took.”

He looked up, his expression haunted.

“I didn’t even know I was under it. I thought I was winning. I thought I beat him. I acted out everything I imagined—mocked him, taunted him, humiliated him. I played the part of the victor… in front of the entire school.”

A bitter laugh escaped him.

“But in reality, I was just attacking empty air. Everyone saw it. They watched me scream and shout and swing at nothing for almost two hours. I didn’t even realize it until I passed out from exhaustion.”

Mr. Grayson said nothing.

He just stared.

Lucas looked away.

“When I woke up, I was in the infirmary. My ribs hurt, but not from any actual fight. They’d cracked because I slammed myself into the floor. Repeatedly.”

He let out a shaky breath.

“I didn’t just lose, Father. I became a joke. A walking embarrassment.”

Mr. Grayson’s jaw tightened.

“And you didn’t think to report this sooner?”

“I was trying to understand what happened,” Lucas said. “I thought I could spin it, fix the narrative somehow, before you got involved.”

Mr. Grayson scoffed. “And now? It’s public. The footage is sealed, but enough students saw it. Word’s already spreading.”

Lucas stayed silent.

Mr. Grayson tapped a finger on the desk, slowly.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Then it stopped.

“You weren’t fighting some unknown child, Lucas. You were fighting the adopted son of Lilith Nocturne. Did you really think it would be simple?”

Lucas’s voice was flat now.

“I thought he’d be strong. Not like this.”

Mr. Grayson leaned forward. “So what do you think he is?”

Lucas didn’t hesitate.

“He’s not just a superpower user. And he’s not just Lilith’s son. There’s something else. Something inside him. It didn’t come out fully, but I could feel it.”

“Describe it.”

Lucas frowned.

“It felt ancient. Like… being watched by something that existed long before any of us. Like whatever I was doing didn’t matter, because the real him hadn’t even moved yet.”

Mr. Grayson’s eyes narrowed. “You think he has an awakened bloodline?”

“I think he has something more,” Lucas whispered. “Something even he doesn’t understand yet.”

A long silence followed.

Then Mr. Grayson leaned back in his chair.

He didn’t yell.

He didn’t curse.

He just sat there, thinking.

One son ruined their commercial contracts.

Another almost caused a political incident.

One was played by Isabella and exposed to the underworld.

And now this.

Lucas.

The final chance.

Beaten in the most humiliating way possible.

Not with strength.

But with a calm illusion and flawless execution.

Mr. Grayson exhaled through his nose.

“Get out.”