The warped: Dark seed saga

The silence that followed Mephisto's reveal was thick, suffocating—a moment stretched taut, ready to snap.

The Doom Trees loomed in the distance, its twisted, malformed branches stretching toward the heavens like skeletal fingers grasping for something unattainable.

Eri stood in the center of it all, her breath coming in ragged gasps, the weight of defeat pressing down on her. Around her, the remnants of the Unbound lay in ruin. Guardians and enforcers alike had fought valiantly, refusing to bow to Sylva's new world order.

But in the end—they were not enough.

Kieran stood like an unshakable pillar, his armor cracked but his stance unmoved. Amara twirled her fan idly, its edges still glistening with remnants of her power. Capone stood a few feet away, reloading his gattling gun with a calmness that felt unnatural after a warzone.

And then there was Vlad—no… Mephisto.

The man they had known as Vlad chuckled softly, his shoulders shaking with amusement. "The cat's out of the bag," he mused, his fanged grin widening. His crimson eyes gleamed—not with the hunger of a vampire, but with something deeper. Something insidious.

Eri's fingers twitched at her sides, fury bubbling beneath her exhausted frame. "Why?" Her voice came out hoarse, but she didn't care.

Mephisto sighed, stretching his arms like an actor preparing for his next grand scene. "Why?" he echoed. "Oh, my queen, isn't it obvious? I will follow you to Hell and back. You are my guiding star. The only light in this dreadfully bleak world." He took a slow step forward, voice dripping with mock sincerity. "But tell me, my goddess—what good is a show without a director?"

Amara's teeth clenched. "This isn't a show! This is real life, you arrogant bastard!"

Mephisto waved her off lazily. "Oh, please, dear girl. Have you ever stopped to consider how much more fun this world is when youre the one pulling the strings?" He gestured around dramatically. "I played both sides, wrote the scripts, set the stage. And you all? You performed beautifully. But I must admit—being an actor? It was quite exhausting. I much prefer this role."

Capone's brow furrowed. "You're serious, huh?" His tone carried a tinge of something disturbed. "I thought you were sleepin with the fishes. The very first enforcer of the Core—Mephisto as I live and breath. We thought you were a myth."

Mephisto bowed as if it were an honor. "And yet, here I stand. I am flattered you know my name. I am truly the very first grand, terrible spectacle." He turned to Kieran, flashing his teeth. "Even you must admit, old friend. I was always one step ahead of you."

Kieran's stared him down. Yet he said nothing .

Sylva, silent until now, took a slow step forward. "Enough." Her golden gaze locked onto Eri's trembling form. But her eyes weren't filled with judgment—only understanding.

"This war is over," Sylva declared, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Her gaze flickered to the twisted mass of roots and decay behind Eri. "And so is this."

Eri's breath hitched. "What?"

Sylva pointed at the Doom Trees—or what should have been the Doom Trees. But now, standing before them, Sylva could feel it—this was not what was meant to be. It was twisted, malformed.

The realization hit Sylva like a revelation carved into her very being. The energy, the foundation—it stemmed from the Ring of Vows. She could feel the familiar pulse of aidens power swirled with the cores darkness. This tree was in a way their child.

Sylva turned back to Eri, her voice softer now. "Is this really the Doom Tree?"

Eri's hands curled into fists. Her face twisted with something raw—rage, grief, self-hatred. "Of course it is!" she snapped. "This is what this world made me!"

Sylva's expression didn't change. "This world?"

Eri's breath came faster now. She hated the way Sylva was looking at her. Like she was sad for her. Like she pitied her.

"The Doom Tree called out to me! It corrupted me, it made me do things—things I can't take back!" Eri's voice cracked, and she clenched her eyes shut. "I never wanted any of this! I just—"

Her voice broke completely.

Sylva's expression softened. "Eri."

Eri's head snapped up.

"Before this ends," Sylva said gently, "Tell me your wish. If you could have anything—what would it be?"

Silence.

Eri's lips parted, but no sound came.

Her hands trembled at her sides.

She was tired.

So, so tired.

"…To stop myself," she whispered. "To stop myself from becoming a murderer."

A pause.

Then, she laughed bitterly.

"But that's impossible. Just kill both of us and let me be free." She dropped to her knees, lowering her head. "Please."

Sylva didn't hesitate.

"No."

Amara took a step forward. "Sylva don't tell me youre thinking of—"

"And if I do nothing, we already know this ends in tragedy," Sylva said, voice steady. "You all once told me fate wasn't something we had to follow. That we could carve a new path." She looked down at Eri. "There are times when rules should be broken. I believe that now, more than ever..."

"Sylva, you're talking about rewriting the past! That's not just bending rules, that's breaking them! We have no idea what could happen!"

Sylva raised a hand, silencing her.

Eri's breath caught. "What do you mean—"

Sylva reached out, offering her hand.

"Come with me."

Eri stared at the hand, her vision blurring. "…Why?"

Sylva smiled. "Because you deserve more than fate has given you."

Eri stared at Sylva's outstretched palm.

No one had ever reached for her before. Not without expectation. Not without fear.

If she took that hand, she had to believe there was something else beyond this suffering. Could she?

Her fingers trembled.

For the first time, she wanted to try.

Then she grasps Sylva's hand.

Mephisto chuckled darkly from the side. "Oh, what a twist."

Sylva turned to him, her golden eyes burning. "You're not off the hook either. Your sentence is decided, Mephisto. You will protect Eri. You will assist her in saving marisol."

Capone barked a laugh. "Ain't no way you're gonna tell me the shmuck who played us all is just gonna take orders now. You're pullin' our legs, boss?"

Mephisto grinned. "You're right, but it does Sound like the gig of a lifetime." He gave a dramatic bow toward Eri. "What do you say, my queen? Shall I be your most loyal warden?"

Eri's throat tightened. She said nothing.

Sylva turned back to the Doom Tree. "Eri. I will need your help. The doom tree is my opposing force—if anyone can open the way, it's you."

Eri swallowed hard.

The air shifted.

Darkness and light intertwined, spiraling.

A portal ripped open.

Eri hesitated. Sylva gave her a gentle push.

"Go."

Eri stepped through. Mephisto followed with a flourish, disappearing into the rift.

Sylva turned back, her gaze locking onto Lila—the only one who had been watching in silence.

A smile.

She tossed Rowan's Guardian weapon through the crack.

"Please save them."

And then—

Lila woke up.