The warped: Dark seed saga

The precinct was quiet, save for the low hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional crackle of a police radio. The early morning hours had stretched thin, the weight of exhaustion pressing against Aiden's temples.

He leaned against the front desk, phone in hand, tapping his fingers against the surface as the line rang. Again.

Voicemail.

Aiden exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He wasn't sure why he expected anything different. It was barely five in the morning—of course, Lila and Rowan were still asleep. Still, he couldn't shake the unease that twisted in his gut.

"Hey, Lila… it's me. Look, I know it's early, but when you get this, call me back, alright? I think I found something… something from the Otherworld. Shadows—at Garrison's house. I don't know what it means yet, but I need to check it out. I'll call again when you're up."

He hesitated. The silence on the other end of the line felt heavier than it should.

"...Love you."

He ended the call before he could second-guess himself and immediately dialed Rowan next.

Straight to voicemail.

That was weirder.

Rowan was a light sleeper. And even if she wasn't, she was a business owner who would come back from the dead for her employees calls. For her phone just ring?

Aiden frowned.

"Rowan, it's Aiden. Call me back when you get this. It's important."

He stared at his phone for a few seconds after hanging up, thumb hovering over the screen like he might get an answer if he waited long enough.

Nothing.

He convinced himself they were just asleep. It was fine. Everything was fine.

But still, the unease gnawed at the edges of his thoughts.

Aiden pocketed his phone, pushing the thought aside when Garrison finally walked in through the station's front doors.

He looked rough.

His hair was damp from the rain, his knuckles bruised and raw. He hadn't even bothered to wipe the blood off his sleeve. His whole posture was wound tight, his jaw clenched. Aiden didn't ask. Not yet.

"Glad you made it," Aiden said instead, pushing off the wall.

Garrison relaxed his shoulders. "Yeah. You sure about this?"

Aiden nodded. "Something's not right at your house. I want to see it for myself."

"Alright, the shops parked outside."

Aiden started toward the exit, but a sharp voice cut through the air, stopping him in his tracks.

"LET ME GO!"

Aiden turned just in time to see a girl struggling against two uniformed officers.

She was young—maybe sixteen or seventeen—with tangled brown hair and a wild, desperate look in her eyes. Sophie Miller.

She was already in Whittier PD's custody. Aiden had overheard the dispatch call earlier that morning—Anaheim PD had found a missing person and brought her here.

So… why were two Anaheim officers trying to take her back now?

That didn't sit right.

Aiden frowned, his detective instincts flaring as he took in the scene.

Sophie's outfit caught his attention immediately—oversized sweatpants, a hoodie with a faded department logo, sneakers with no laces.

Lost and found clothes.

They must have given them to her when she was first brought in. That meant she had been here for a while.

So why were these guys trying to move her now?

Aiden called out before he could stop himself.

"Reeves? Chang?"

The two uniformed cops froze for half a second before turning toward him, forced casualness in their expressions.

"Aiden," Officer Reeves greeted, nodding. "Didn't expect to see you here this early."

Aiden's paused mid-step. He knew Reeves and Chang—they were both Anaheim PD, but neither of them had any reason to be in Whittier right now.

"Funny," Aiden said, eyeing them. "Didn't expect to see you either. What are you guys doing all the way out here?"

Chang barely missed a beat. "Transfer order. She was picked up in Anaheim, so we were told she should be processed there."

Aiden didn't buy it.

"Since when does Anaheim PD personally escort transfers?" His voice was flat, controlled. "Usually, the department just makes a request and Whittier PD handles it."

Reeves smiled, too easy, too smooth. "Well it's a Special case. Something about her being a witness."

The hairs on Aiden's neck stood on end.

Garrison crossed his arms beside him, scowling. "That right? Who approved it?"

"Orders comes straight from the top sir."

"Which captain?" Aiden pressed.

Reeves' jaw tensed. Chang glanced away.

Aiden wasn't the only one catching the holes in their story. They hadn't expected someone to question them.

Sophie was still struggling, her breaths ragged. "They're lying," she choked out. "They're not cops anymore."

Reeves tightened his grip on her arm. "Calm down, kid."

"Like hell I will!"

She yanked free from Chang, shoving him back with a strength that caught Aiden off guard.

In the scuffle, Sophie's elbow collided with Reeves' face—knocking his sunglasses clean off.

They clattered to the floor.

And in the same instant—Aiden saw it.

Red eyes.

Glowing. Inhuman.

Aiden's breath froze.

For a split second, Reeves didn't move.

Then—he reached for his glasses too slowly.

Too deliberately.

The station went silent.

Everyone in the room had seen it.

Garrison reached for his gun. "The hell—"

Aiden didn't move. Couldn't.

Because Reeves smiled. A slow, knowing smile, too human and not human at all.

And then—he spoke.

"Hi, hero."

The hair on Aiden's neck shot up like lightning.

The words were harmless, yet they sliced straight through the thin wall of denial he had been clinging to.

It wasn't just in the Otherworld anymore. It was here. It was real.

His grip tightened. "You picked the wrong timeline."

Reeves lunged.