The Useless Son-In-Law Is A System God Of War

Chapter Six: The Echo

Snow fell thicker that night over the Stratton estate, soft and silent, burying the footprints Landon had left behind. Inside, the house was anything but quiet.

Todd paced the living room like a trapped animal. His right arm hung limp at his side, wrapped in a sling. 

Every time he moved, pain flashed across his face. “I’m telling you, Dad, that freak threw me with nothing. No wires, no tricks. Just, boom!” He snapped his fingers. “Like gravity flipped.”

Harold stood by the fireplace, drink in hand. His usually perfect hair was disheveled, his face pale. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not exaggerating!” Todd shouted. “He glowed! His eyes were blue like, like neon!”

“Enough!” Harold’s voice cracked like a whip. “You sound insane.”

Emily sat curled on the couch, still in the blue dress she’d worn that evening. Her mascara had smudged, her eyes vacant. “He’s not insane,” she said quietly. “I saw it too.”

Harold turned sharply. “You’re just… upset. He’s gone, Emily. Forget him.”

She looked up at her father. “Did you forge those papers?”

He blinked. “What?”

“The contract,” she said, voice trembling but steady. “Did you add the clauses he mentioned?”

“Of course not,” Harold snapped.

“Then why did he know the exact paragraph numbers?” she pressed. “Why did he know, ”

“Because he’s manipulative,” Harold cut in. “He wanted to scare you. To make you doubt me.”

Todd snorted. “Well, it worked.”

Harold glared at him. “Watch your tone.”

Todd raised his good hand. “Hey, don’t bark at me, old man. Maybe if you hadn’t kept him around to save face, he wouldn’t have snapped.”

Harold slammed his glass down, shattering it. “You will not speak about him again in this house! He’s finished.”

But the echo of his shout hung unnaturally long in the air, like the walls themselves were holding their breath, then, the lights flickered. Emily gasped. “Dad.”

“It’s just the wind,” Harold said, though his voice wavered. He pressed the intercom. “Carl, check the generator.”

Static answered. He pressed again. “Carl?”

Nothing. Todd frowned. “Where’s the staff?”

Harold muttered, “Probably hiding from your whining.”

But even as he said it, unease crawled up his spine. The mansion was never this quiet. 

No footsteps, no chatter from the kitchen. Just the wind, and something else. A faint humming. Low, rhythmic. Almost like… a heartbeat.

Emily stood, wrapping her arms around herself. “Something’s wrong.”

Todd rolled his eyes. “Relax. You’re just freaked out because Lover Boy went all Jedi on us.”

She turned on him, voice sharp. “He’s not a joke!”

Todd froze, not because of her words, but because a whisper had slid through the room, faint but clear. “You made him one.”

He spun around. “What did you just say?”

Emily blinked. “What?”

“That voice,” Todd said. “You didn’t hear.”

The chandelier above them rattled. One of the crystal pendants snapped loose and crashed to the floor. Emily screamed. Harold swore and backed away.

The humming grew louder. Todd’s voice rose, panicked. “What the hell is that?”

The television turned on by itself. Static. Then, slowly, the screen filled with a faint, flickering image, a silhouette standing against white light. A man. Familiar. Landon. 

Emily covered her mouth. “No.”

The image didn’t speak. But the speakers crackled with faint whispers, overlapping like a chorus: “Remember what you did. Remember who you mocked. Every action has a return.”

Todd stumbled backward, knocking over a vase. “Dad, turn it off! Turn it off!”

Harold grabbed the remote and mashed the buttons. Nothing. The image stayed, flickering, pulsing brighter, then the room plunged into darkness. The fire snuffed out with a hiss.

For several seconds, there was only breathing, fast, shallow, terrified, then Todd screamed.

Light returned in a flicker, and there he was, sprawled on the rug, clutching his chest. His body arched, eyes wide, mouth open but voiceless. Emily ran to him. “Todd! What’s happening?!”

Blue light pulsed under his skin, veins glowing faintly, like something was crawling through them. “Get back!” Harold barked, grabbing her arm.

“I can’t just!”

“I said move!”

Todd gasped, a choked sob. Then the light faded, leaving him panting and white-faced. Emily turned on her father, trembling. “You saw that. You saw that!”

Harold’s face was ashen. “It’s… impossible.”

Todd managed a wheezy laugh. “He… he cursed me,” he panted. “That bastard, he cursed me!”

The house shuddered, just once, a deep, hollow vibration like a giant heartbeat beneath the floorboards, then silence.

Harold stared into the empty fireplace, hands shaking. “This is madness,” he muttered. “He’s a man, not a demon.”

Emily whispered, “Then why does it feel like he’s still here?”

Harold turned on her, desperate. “Enough! Do you hear me? Enough! We’ll call security, we’ll.”

The intercom clicked to life. A man’s voice, calm and mechanical: “Security systems offline. External communications disabled.”

Harold froze. “Who said that?”

Emily whispered, “That wasn’t Carl.”

The voice came again, and this time, it was unmistakably Landon’s. “You taught me what power looks like, Harold. Consider this… a lesson in humility.”

The intercom sparked, then went dead. Harold stumbled back, breathing hard. “He’s hacking us. That’s all. He’s, he’s using some program.”

But even he didn’t believe it. Todd groaned from the floor. “Dad… we’ve got to get out.”

Harold grabbed his arm, dragging him upright. “We’re leaving. Emily, go to the car, now!”

She hesitated, glancing at the blank TV. Her reflection in the dark screen seemed to move, but not like her. It smiled. She turned away quickly and followed them to the door.

Snow whipped across the steps as Harold fumbled with the locks. “Damn it, open.”

The doors swung wide on their own. The night outside was pitch black. The security lights were dead. Only the distant flicker of lightning broke the darkness.

“Move,” Harold ordered, pushing his children forward. They stumbled into the snow.

The gates at the end of the drive stood open. Beyond them, the city lights glowed faintly, and for an instant, they thought they saw someone standing there. Still. Watching.

“Is that, ?” Emily whispered.

“Don’t look!” Harold hissed, dragging her toward the car. But when he turned back one last time, the figure was gone.

Hours later, the Stratton mansion stood silent again. The power flickered once more, and the television glowed faintly to life. No image this time, just text. “Phase Two: Judgment. Pending.”

The screen went dark.