Incubus Living In A World Of Superpower Users
Chapter 206: Glad You Made It Out

Chapter 206: Glad You Made It Out

Then she kept walking.

Not fast. Not slow. Just steady steps, like she didn’t need to look back.

Not long after, Mei passed through as well.

She didn’t say a word. Didn’t sit down. Just walked close enough to glance at Ethan, paused for a second or two, then turned away like she had somewhere else to be.

But her eyes had lingered just a little too long.

It wasn’t dramatic. There were no tears, no nods, no whispered messages. Just a quiet moment stretched between them—brief, but clear.

None of them gathered together. There was no group huddle. No talk about what happened. No shared glance that said "remember?"

They didn’t need to.

Whatever had happened in the forest—whatever they had faced, whatever they had done—it didn’t need repeating. It was already understood.

Not written down. Not shared in a report.

But felt.

The kind of thing that left its weight in the air, even after it was over.

The med staff didn’t ask them questions. Maybe they had been told not to. Maybe they didn’t want to know.

Or maybe it was the way the group carried themselves—quiet, alert, not broken, but not fully settled either.

The other students didn’t try to approach them either.

They just watched from a distance.

Not with panic. Not with open fear. But definitely not with comfort.

It was the kind of attention people gave to a wild animal—one that looked calm, but still had blood on its teeth.

The kind of animal that hadn’t growled, hadn’t lunged, but gave off a feeling. One that said: don’t test it.

Ethan finally shifted. It was the first real movement he’d made in a while.

He leaned back just a little, the bottled drink still unopened in his hand. The label had condensation on it, but he hadn’t even touched it since he got it.

He stretched his legs slightly, slow and controlled, then tilted his head back to rest against the wall behind him.

He wasn’t asleep.

He wasn’t even tired.

But he was still.

The kind of stillness that came from awareness, not rest. A stillness that stayed ready, even when nothing seemed to be happening.

He hadn’t changed.

Not really.

But the way people looked at him... had.

—

By morning, the med tent had quieted down, not in a peaceful way, but in a more controlled, focused kind of calm.

The loud panic from the day before had faded into something more organized. The med team worked in a rhythm now, collecting used mana packs, checking vitals, and clearing away broken gear: broken goggles, cracked masks, torn jackets—scattered signs of yesterday’s rush.

Cleanup crews came through in quiet rotations. Some were staff. Others were students too tired to fight back when they got assigned cleanup duty.

On the digital screens along the tent walls, rotating messages flickered every few seconds.

GROUP A – Transport Prep 06:30

GROUP C – Medical Follow-up Required

GROUP F – Await Escort | DO NOT DEPART

That last one stood out. It always did.

A few students gave it a glance, then looked away quickly. But the message didn’t vanish.

Everyone knew what it meant. Group F had been closest to Zone 14. No one was saying what went wrong out loud, but they didn’t have to.

Group F was being separated. Watched.

Held back.

Ethan noticed it, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t shift, didn’t frown, didn’t even blink. He just sat the way he had been, arms resting loosely, fingers gently curled around the pouch in his lap.

Across from him, Evelyn gave a soft yawn. She folded her blanket neatly, tucking it beside her bag.

Everly stretched her arms over her head, back arched slightly, then leaned forward to tie her boots for the third time that morning.

Neither of them spoke. But both of them had been watching the announcements too.

A few minutes later, a man walked into the tent. He wasn’t wearing armor—just a plain field uniform.

Brown-gray fabric, reinforced boots, and an armband that marked him as a base-level command officer. Nothing fancy.

"Group F," he said, voice clear but not too loud. "You’ll be escorted shortly. Please line up near the secondary gate."

No further information. No chance to ask questions.

And then he left, just like that.

Some students in Group F exchanged glances. A few stood right away. Others hesitated, looking around to see if anyone else would move first.

Ethan stood up smoothly. Not rushed. Not slow, but just in a natural way as if he had done this before.

The motion caught a few eyes. People noticed, even if they tried not to make it obvious.

He didn’t say anything. Just picked up his pouch, slung it over one shoulder, and stepped into the forming line.

Evelyn and Everly followed behind, their pace relaxed. Casual, almost like this was just another walk.

They chatted lightly—about the weather, about how dry their lips were, maybe even joking about the food waiting back at base.

Just noise.

But it helped.

A younger student, probably fifteen or sixteen, shuffled closer to Ethan while they waited. He looked nervous, glancing around as if unsure whether he should say anything.

His fingers twitched slightly at his side.

"Um," the boy finally said. "Hey."

Ethan turned his head slightly, eyes calm.

The boy swallowed. "I... I just wanted to express my gratitude. I don’t think I’d be here if you weren’t in the forest that day."

Ethan looked at him for a beat.

Then gave a simple nod. "Glad you made it out," he said.

That was all.

No big moment. No pat on the back. No handshake.

Just words exchanged. Meaning carried quietly.

The boy nodded again and stepped back. He didn’t try to keep talking.

A few minutes later, the call came to move.

The escorts weren’t overly armed, but they moved like they didn’t miss much. Their steps were light, eyes always scanning. They didn’t talk. Just led the way with purpose.

They were taken along a side corridor—one that passed by rows of temporary buildings and stacked crates. The path was clear, but not many people walked it.

No civilians.

Just drones. Support teams. Quiet engineers are doing their jobs.

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