The warped: Dark seed saga

The squad car's engine idled in the arcade's parking lot, the scent of rain still clinging to the asphalt. Aiden leaned against the passenger door, arms crossed as he surveyed the quiet street. The city finally showing the first signs of life.

Rowan stretched her arms into the bag of candy, shuffling her hands for a piece. "So... does he know?"

Garrison rolled down his window, his arm leaning out its frame. "Hard not to, after what they did to us."

Aiden nodded. "I filled him in on the way here," he said to Rowan and Lila. "Told him everything."

Rowan's brow lifted. "And?"

Garrison let out a dry laugh. "And none of it makes a goddamn lick of sense."

Lila didn't respond right away. Instead, her gaze drifted past the car, past the kids with their umbrellas, past the morning mist that still clung to the air. Toward the diner.

A heaviness still clung to her skin. A sensation that refused to release her from its clutches.

"I think we should check out the Mimi's cafe over there," Lila murmured, arms folding across her chest. "Just… for a second."

Aiden looked at her then, studying her beautiful eyes.

Lila was always the type to keep moving. She wasn't the type to linger like this.

He trusted her instincts, but—

"There's no time," Garrison said. "We have an actual lead. Every second is another marisol doesn't have."

Lila hesitated, eyes flicking between Aiden and the diner's charred remains.

Rowan crossed her arms. "We have to be smart about this. If something was there it would of attacked us by now."

Aiden dragged a hand through his hair. He didn't like this. But he also didn't like splitting up.

"…you're right," she relented. "We should check Garrison's place."

Aiden exhaled, clearly uneasy. He opened the door for Lila before loading up himself

Garrison turned back toward the wheel, but before he shifted the car into drive, his eyes flicked to the diner—one last time.

It sat there, burned and broken, yet something about it still lingered. Like a wound that wouldn't close.

He pulled away, the road stretching before them—leaving something behind.

As the squad car disappeared down the street, Marisol stepped outside.

The air was cool, thick with petrichor. She inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp morning scent. She had missed this. The sky remained overcast, but in the soft glow of dawn, everything still looked new.

The shadow cat wove between her ankles, brushing up against her leg. It was warm. Comforting.

Behind her, the diner's door creaked open.

"Stay close," Eri warned, stepping onto the cracked pavement.

Marisol smiled but didn't respond. She wouldn't go far. Just a few steps more. Just enough.

Mephisto followed last. He stepped lazily onto the curb, hands in his pockets, eyes trailing after the car that had just left. He knew exactly who was in it.

His usual smirk remained in place, but his eyes—they were menacing.

Marisol turned toward him, oblivious to his momentary lapse in expression. "Thanks for convincing Eri to let me come outside," she said, smiling.

Mephisto blinked, then chuckled, shaking his head. "No, thank you, little seed. Go get some sun." He glanced up at the kids enjoying their walk to school. "Not that there's much of it yet."

His gaze lost across the way, where a woman in her early twenties meticulously brushed her silky hair. "I'm feeling pretty hungry myself."

Marisol gave a nervous laugh. Then, without thinking—"What do you think about the rain?"

Eri blinked once, slowly.

"What?"

"The rain," Marisol clarified. "Do you like it?"

Eri hesitated, just a fraction of a second.

"No I don't," she said simply. Measured. Controlled.

Marisol hummed. "So where you're from… it must rain often?"

Eri's expression didn't change, but something painful played out in the back of her eyes.

She gave a vague shrug. "rain is rain in this world or the next."

Careful. She was being careful.

Marisol pressed forward, her voice gentle, casual.

"But what is that next world like?"

Eri exhaled through her nose. "You ask a lot of questions."

Marisol smiled. "You could share a little more."

Eri narrowed her eyes but said nothing.

A few feet away, Mephisto suddenly turned on his heel.

"You two enjoy your little chat." he announced, scratching his throat. "I'll be back after I find something fresh to drink."

Marisol didn't miss the way Eri stiffened at the word fresh.

Eri frowned. "Wait, where are you—"

But Mephisto was already gone, vanishing into the crowd.

This was her chance.

She turned back to Eri, forcing her voice to stay light.

"Why does Garrison have to die?"

The words landed like a dropped glass.

Eri stilled.

Marisol saw it—the way her posture shifted. Tension coiling through her shoulders, her jaw tightening just enough to be noticeable.

"…That's not your concern," Eri said smoothly. But her voice wasn't as steady as before.

Good. She was onto something.

"But it is," Marisol pressed. "He's my stepfather. You're telling me I don't deserve to know why he has to die?"

Eri's shoulders rose, as if she was preparing for a fight.

"This isn't about deserving," she said.

Marisol wasn't backing down.

"Is it because of the dream?"

Eri's lips parted. "What dream?!"

Then— her entire body stiffened.

That was it. That was the answer.

Eri's breathing sharpened.

Marisol didn't stop. She couldn't.

"In my dream, he tried to kill me," she continued. "I don't think it was real. But you're acting like—"

"Enough."

A pulse of darkness shot outward.

Marisol didnt flinch, stepping forward. She would not back down even if it meant getting hurt.

Her father's death flashing in her mind from all those years ago, steeling her resolve.

The shadow cat reacted first.

Its oily black fur bristled, a deep, guttural hiss escaping its throat. It darted forward, attempting to shield Marisol.

The roots struck before it could evade.

A sharp crack echoed through the air as the cat was hurled backward, slamming into the pavement. A soft, pained whimper escaped it.

Marisol's heart clenched. No.

Roots continued toward her—twisting, thrashing.

And then—

They stopped.

Not because Eri pulled them back.

Because Marisol absorbed them.

The impact never came.

The roots coiled into her.

The shadows sank into her skin like ink dissolving in water—disappearing without a trace.

The air went still.

Eri's face—pure shock.

Marisol's own eyes were wide, staring at her hands, at her arms, expecting pain.

But there was none.

Only warmth.

She took a slow step forward.

"…Why does what I'm saying bother you this much?" she asked, voice softer now. "It's almost like—"

A sharp screech of tires split the air. The Mazda MR2 slid into the lot, its engine purring low.

Eri's head snapped toward it, her expression immediately closing off.

The Mazda purred low as the engine cut off. The long-haired servant climbed out of the driver's seat.

Marisol, shaking, knelt beside the cat. Its body trembled slightly.

She lowered her voice.

"Hide."

The cat melted into her shadow.

Eri turned away from her, posture immediately composed again, as if the past thirty seconds had never happened. Staring at the small black flower she had manifested. Hesitating for a brief second.

Eri's gaze locked on the dark petals. Then—just as quickly—her posture shifted, neutral again.

"Let's eat," she said simply.

Marisol barely heard her.

She too was still staring at her hands.

At her arms.

At the place where Eri's roots had struck her.

And the shadows that had disappeared into her skin.

If this darkness belonged to Eri… then why did it feel like they belonged to her too?