The room was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight that filtered through the smart-glass windows, offering a breathtaking view of the futuristic cityscape beyond.
The walls were lined with sleek, interactive display panels, capable of switching between classic bookshelves, holographic interfaces, or entertainment screens at a mere thought.
A massive mahogany desk sat in the corner, its surface impeccable except for a few scattered holo-documents and a tablet, softly pulsing as it remained in sleep mode.
The king-sized bed, adorned with silk sheets infused with temperature regulation technology, rested against the far wall, its plush bedding now tangled from restless sleep.
Above, the ceiling displayed a starry sky projection, shifting ever so slightly as if mirroring the real thing.
The distant hum of the city buzzed faintly through the reinforced glass, beyond which floating hover-cars zipped through the air like fireflies, their neon trails adding a faint glow to the skyline.
The smart room's automated climate control subtly adjusted the air, maintaining the perfect balance of humidity and oxygen levels, yet tonight, something was different.
Today was different as Ethan, who had never had a bad night's rest, was suddenly restless, the sheets wrapped around his bare chest, his face scrunching slightly as he shifted under the covers.
He was always a deep sleeper, rarely waking up in the middle of the night unless something was seriously wrong. And right now—something was wrong.
A sharp gasp tore from his throat as he jolted awake, his entire body drenched in sweat. His heart pounded like a war drum, each heartbeat making him feel pain as if his heart were trying to break out of his body.
His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession, but no matter how much air he pulled in, it felt like he was suffocating.
Heat surged through his veins, not the warmth of a fever, but something different as his body was not responding to his brain's commands.
His muscles tensed, his skin tingled like thousands of invisible sparks danced across it, and an unfamiliar energy bubbled up from within.
His vision blurred, the dim room around him twisting as strange golden symbols flickered in and out of sight.
Ethan groaned, pressing a trembling hand against his forehead. His dark, tousled hair clung to his damp skin, and his usually sharp brown eyes were unfocused, struggling to adjust to the dim light.
His lean, athletic frame trembled slightly, every muscle in his body tightening like a drawn bowstring. It wasn't just exhaustion—something was wrong.
Something inside him was changing, which he had no control over.
The air around him felt heavy, pressing down like an invisible force. His silk sheets, designed specifically to remove sweat, clung uncomfortably to his skin.
Every inch of his body burned as though fire ran through his veins, but the sensation wasn't purely pain—but Ethan was not able to tell what it was as all he could think about was the pain.
"What the hell…" he muttered, gripping his chest as a searing pain erupted from deep inside.
But soon, he felt like someone or something was carving something on his chest, and his skin felt like it was being roasted.
He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would stop, but it didn't. Instead, the feeling intensified, growing stronger with every breath he took.
His senses sharpened to an unbearable degree. He could hear his own heartbeat echoing in his skull, feel the fabric of his damp sleepwear rubbing against his overly sensitive skin, and even sense the faintest movement of air in the room.
The world had become too loud, too bright, even though his eyes were shut.
Then came the whispers.
Soft, seductive voices filled his mind, curling around his thoughts like vines. He couldn't make out the words, but they carried a weight, a power that sent shivers down his spine.
It was both intoxicating and terrifying. The voices swirled together until they formed a single, clear phrase that echoed in his very bones.
The Incubus Heir.
Ethan's eyes snapped open. His vision flickered again, showing strange golden runes floating in the air, their meaning unknown yet oddly familiar.
Shadows danced at the edges of his sight, shifting, twisting, forming images that disappeared before he could grasp them. His body felt different, stronger, lighter, but he did not like this.
As he had exercised his body and knew that this newfound strength was uncontrollable for now.
His breath hitched as the pressure in his chest spiked. His hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms, but he barely felt the pain.
His body was burning, his blood roaring, his entire being felt different, as if someone had changed his body.
The pressure in his chest reached a breaking point, the intensity almost unbearable. It was as if something was clawing its way out from within him, demanding to be set free.
His breath came in quick gasps as sweat dripped down his forehead, his entire frame trembling under the strain.
And then—
A golden crest flashed across his chest, burning with an intensity that made him want to scream, but with his body not responding, nothing came out of his mouth other than sharp breaths of air.
The mark was intricate, pulsing with energy, its swirling lines shifting as if alive. Ethan barely had time to glimpse it before it vanished, leaving behind only a lingering warmth.
He sucked in a breath, but his strength was gone. His vision darkened, the overwhelming sensations finally crashing down on him like a tidal wave.
His body collapsed back onto the bed.
And then, just as everything faded to black, a voice—calm, monotone, yet sultry—echoed in his mind.
[System Initiating… 1%... 2%... 3%...]
But his conscience had already been consumed by darkness, and the voice was lost to oblivion.