Incubus Living In A World Of Superpower Users - Chapter 180

Chapter 180: Choosing the Dropping Zone
But they were safe. This wasn’t the first time the school had done this.

The engines beneath the ship gave a soft pulse.

The loading ramp pulled up behind them, locking into place with a quiet hiss.

Overhead, a soft chime sounded as the flight AI activated.

All systems are online.

Departure: Imminent.

The ship didn’t shake or rattle as it lifted. It rose like it had done this a thousand times—silent, smooth, and exact.

The hum in the floor deepened, but no one flinched. Through the windows, the launch site got smaller, fading under the thick protective clouds above the city.

No one clapped, no one smiled, not only because almost all of them were used to this scene.

But also because they weren’t heading to a tournament or a prize ceremony.

They were heading into the wild, into the real test, where their lives might not be at risk, but the chances of a heavy injury are not low.

Ethan sat still.

Everly shifted beside him and leaned in slightly, her head almost resting near his shoulder. Her breath was soft. Steady.

Evelyn sat on his other side, eyes closed, arms crossed. Calm and still.

They didn’t speak, but none of them had to.

The bond between them didn’t need words.

Their warmth lingered in the quiet space between their shoulders, hands, and silence.

Time passed.

The ship traveled at high speed, cutting through the sky. Outside the angled windows, the view shifted, moving from open plains to old ruin zones to dense forests.

The edges of the world, where man-made borders faded into untamed space, rolled slowly beneath them.

Some areas looked dead—scorched lands where nothing moved.

Others were green but twisted, with colors that didn’t belong. Bright blue moss across blackened trees. Thorny vines pulsing like veins.

Forbidden zones weren’t always violent. But they were always strange.

Ethan had seen the reports, the archived footage, and the drone feeds.

Still, seeing it from this high up made it feel different, like a line had been crossed. Like the stories weren’t just stories anymore.

A student a few rows down let out a sharp breath and tapped his foot.

Someone else was whispering too fast for anyone to understand.

Ethan leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes—not to sleep, but to reset.

Around him, the others slowly began to drift. Some pulled jackets tighter. Some hunched forward, staring at their hands.

It was hard to know how long they had been flying when the lights in the cabin dimmed to an amber glow.

An announcement came overhead, calm and direct.

“Final approach in thirty minutes. Please prepare for descent procedures.”

A slow wave of movement went through the ship.

Students sat up. They pulled their bags close. Checked their gloves. Tightened their belts.

Staff walked down the aisles, calling names and checking IDs.

Each student showed their wristband, scanned their badge, and got a decent token.

One pod per person. No teams. No shared drops.

You land alone. Survive alone. Come back alone.

The rules were clear. Stay in the forbidden zone for five days. Hunt beasts to earn points. Bigger, stronger beasts gave more points.

The top scorers would pass with honors. The rest just needed to survive and return.

The teachers had warned them more than once.

This wasn’t a drill.

Ethan heard his name.

“Nocturne, Ethan. Pod Nine.”

He stood without pause, approached the checkpoint, and accepted the small glowing key.

His thumbprint locked the ID.

Behind him, he saw Evelyn being handed her own. She gave him a soft nod. Everly didn’t wave, but she tapped her fingers against her leg three times, quick and light.

It was their signal. Their way of saying ‘we’ll see each other again’ without actually saying it out loud.

He walked through the main chamber to the pod bay.

The lighting here was colder. White walls, polished floor, faint hum from the launch mechanisms hidden in the walls.

Rows of deployment pods stood open, cylindrical and dark with reinforced panels. Inside, you could see the seating harness, supply rack, and interface screen.

Every pod had one job—drop you, keep you alive until landing, and open when the system confirmed ground contact.

A line of students waited.

Each one stepped forward, confirmed their vitals, and selected their drop zone.

A panel opened with three simple options:

Low Beast Density: Safe, fewer points.

Medium Beast Density: Moderate risk, balanced score.

High Beast Density: Dangerous, high score reward.

Most students hovered over Medium.

A few picked Low, lips tight and eyes darting like they were worried who was watching.

Only a few picked High.

When Ethan’s turn came, he walked up, confirmed his scan, and stepped in front of the selection screen.

Three options glowed softly: Low, Medium, High.

He didn’t pause.

He pressed his finger on High.

The light blinked once, bright red, then turned green.

A low murmur passed through the few students close enough to see.

One of the staff members glanced up, held his stare for half a second, then nodded and moved on.

No comment. But the shift in mood was clear.

People noticed, but no one said anything as this was their own personal choice and not something that they could comment on.

As the zone is locked.

The pod hissed open.

He stepped inside and placed his equipment bag into the rack beside him. The seat molded around his back as the restraints closed over his shoulders and legs.

Inside the pod, it was quiet. Sealed. He could still see through the clear panel, but the sound from outside faded out.

The lights above shifted to blue.

His vitals flashed once, synced to the system.

Status Confirmed.

The countdown timer began in the top right corner of the screen.

00:59…

He let out a slow breath.

The air smelled sterile, with a faint hint of metal and a faint hint of cold plastic. It wasn’t comfortable, but that wasn’t the point.

He looked forward.

Through the glass, he could see other pods sealing.

One student bit his lip until it bled. Another was whispering something—maybe a prayer, maybe nothing.

Some stared straight ahead, trying not to think too much.

Ethan wasn’t tense.

He just felt focused. Like something inside him had quietly locked into place.