Incubus Living In A World Of Superpower Users
Chapter 214: But We Will Only Attend The University That Ethan Chooses

Chapter 214: But We Will Only Attend The University That Ethan Chooses

The instructor from Astralis didn’t say a word as she walked up to the front of the stage. She didn’t need to.

Her presence alone shifted the air; the sound of her boots tapping against the polished floor was soft, but for some reason, it echoed just enough to be heard across the entire room.

It wasn’t loud. But it was clear, each step landing like it had been planned ahead of time. Like nothing about her movements was accidental.

It felt like someone had turned down the rest of the world just to listen to her walk.

She stopped a few steps away from the twins. Close enough to speak, but not close enough to intrude. Her coat, dark and high-collared, settled at her sides as she stood still.

Her eyes scanned the twins, not with judgment, not like someone looking for flaws, and not like a recruiter checking numbers or talent scores.

It was something else. More like she was confirming a quiet answer to a question she had already asked herself.

Then, without a word, she reached into her coat.

It wasn’t rushed. But it wasn’t dramatic either. No flair. No drawn-out pause for attention. Just a smooth, practiced movement.

Two tokens appeared in her hand.

Slim, smooth, silver-lined, they glowed faintly, soft, subtle colors flowing beneath the surface like mist trapped inside glass.

One shimmered with pale waves of blue, like light dancing across still water. The other gave off a deeper purple, pulsing slowly like a heartbeat in slow motion.

They weren’t shaped like coins or badges. They didn’t have any insignia on display—just pure, polished design.

More like crystal discs than anything else. And somehow, they looked personal. Designed with purpose. Not mass-produced and not handed out often.

"These are Astralis’ core tokens," she said, finally breaking the silence.

Her voice was low, but everyone could still hear it through the hall.

Her voice came through clean, calm, measured—like someone used to being listened to without needing to demand it.

"If you accept the offer," she continued. "You will both be granted entry into Astralis University under the dual-path track: Mental & Physical Warfare and Military Strategist."

She paused then. Just a moment. Not for drama, but because she was picking her words carefully, as if she understood that every syllable carried weight here.

"Along with that," she added, "you will be given private housing."

That word—private—landed differently.

She clarified.

"Not a student housing, or student group quarters, but a complete independent residence."

It hit the room like a light gust that turned into a sharp wind.

Gasps followed. Not loud. But sharp and sudden. Not everyone understood what it meant right away, but enough of them did.

Even a few of the higher-ranked recruiters tilted their heads slightly, their eyebrows lifting.

Private faculty housing was not something students received. Not even the top one percent. That space was reserved for professors.

Full-time researchers. Internal military liaisons. Strategic officers with ranking titles. The idea that two incoming students would receive such access wasn’t just rare—it was unheard of.

The woman wasn’t finished.

"You will also receive full access to resource vaults and guided cultivation upgrades up to Emperor tier," she said, her tone still even.

"Our tech division will handle your equipment refits personally. You will also be given mission flexibility. No forced assignments. No automatic early deployments."

There were murmurs now, growing steadily.

"Your growth," she finished, "will be handled directly by the Department Head."

The noise behind them had become a low wave. People whispered quickly, exchanged glances, and checked their devices to see if they’d missed something.

This wasn’t just an offer.

It was a simple yet powerful declaration.

A claim.

And yet, the two girls standing in front of the instructor—the Moonshade twins—remained still.

They didn’t reach for the tokens.

They didn’t move their hands.

Evelyn’s face was calm, almost unreadable. She didn’t blink more than necessary, and her gaze remained focused.

Everly’s eyes didn’t dart or drift. She wasn’t nervous, just watching—quiet, composed, not impressed or shaken.

The instructor didn’t speak again. She simply waited.

She didn’t pressure them. Didn’t lean forward. Didn’t try to convince.

She just extended her hand slightly, holding the tokens steady in her palm, allowing them to see clearly—but not forcing them to accept.

Then Evelyn turned.

Not toward the tokens.

Toward her sister.

Their eyes met.

No words passed between them. Just one look. But that was enough.

It was the kind of look that only two people who had grown up together, trained together, bled together could fully understand. It was silent, but loud in its meaning.

Then Evelyn turned back to the front and stepped forward, just half a pace.

Not to accept the offer.

But to speak.

"We appreciate the offer," she said. Her voice was soft. But the room was quiet enough to catch every syllable.

The instructor didn’t lower her hand.

A few recruiters leaned forward in their seats. Some didn’t even realize they were doing it. They were used to students grabbing onto offers like this without thinking.

But Evelyn continued.

"But we will only attend the university that Ethan chooses."

That sentence landed like a dropped stone in still water.

The entire room froze.

Every whisper stopped. Every sound died.

No one moved.

Even the broadcast drones hovering near the ceiling paused mid-air, unsure whether to zoom in or switch focus.

The instructor didn’t flinch. Her arm stayed extended for a few seconds longer.

Then she slowly pulled it back.

No anger, no annoyance, just a subtle shift of thought behind her eyes. Like she’d considered this as one of the possible outcomes all along.

She didn’t ask why.

She didn’t object.

She simply nodded. Just once. A small gesture. Barely more than a tilt of the chin.

Seeing this, the host cleared his throat, looking at the other recruiters who were also shocked, as he was, for he had never seen someone bring up a condition like this before.

And yet, here we are, as he was looking at two genius-level students who were actually refusing an offer like this.