The warped: Dark seed saga

The precinct was hollowing out.

Aiden could still hear the distant shuffle of boots and the murmur of voices—cops grabbing their families, heading out into the night, not planning to come back. The attack had left the building in shambles, and most officers weren't sticking around to see if it would happen again.

Aaron was among them. He stood near the exit, watching the chaos unfold, his uniform rumpled, a half-empty cup of coffee in his hand.

"You're really staying?" he asked.

Aiden nodded. "Yeah."

Aaron exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temples. "Of course you are."

The words weren't angry—just tired.

Aiden understood.

"You need to go, then go," he said. "No one will hold it against you."

Aaron hesitated, then shook his head. "That's the thing, man. I don't even know what we're running from." His eyes flicked to Aiden's. "I didn't sign up for vampires or whatever this shit is."

Aiden had no response to that.

Because Aaron was right.

Aaron lingered at the door. "If you make it through this…" He shook his head, then forced a tired smirk.

"We're getting shawarma. No excuses."

Garrison caught up to him as Aaron walked away, boots heavy against the tile.

"You're gonna tell me what the hell that was." His voice was taut, barely restrained. His bloodshot eyes locked onto Aiden's like he was searching for something. "What you did—what I saw—I deserve an explanation."

Aiden exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. The weight of his gun was still too heavy at his side.

He hadn't had time to process. Didn't want to process.

Not Holt. Not her eyes before she turned.

Not how easy it had been to raise his gun.

Not how she thanked him after the bullet hit.

"I'll tell you later," Aiden muttered, voice rougher than intended. "Right now, we have bigger problems."

"Bigger problems, like shooting holt?" Garrison scoffed, stepping closer. "Or is this why you wanted to go to my house? Did you know?"

"I—no it was only a gut feeling..." Aiden's lowered his gaze ashamed.

He thought he'd feel anger at the accusation, but there was none.

Because Garrison was right.

Aiden swallowed. He could see it in Garrison's face—the unspoken question.

If he had acted on instinct. Didn't hesitate. Everyone might still be alive. Maybe the old him would have kept moving forward. Maybe he would have found another way.

But this aiden hadn't.

He had been exactly like the Sentinel. The younger him would have thought of some way to save her.

Like he had with Lila.

Aiden had once thought the Sentinel was heartless. Felt sorry for him even.

But when Holt looked at him—pleading—he hadn't tried, either.

His hands quivered in the pockets of his coat. He forced the thought aside.

"We have one of them in holding." His voice steadied. "Like you said, we deserve an explanation from him."

Garrison's jaw flexed.

Aiden pushed past him, reaching for the interrogation room's door. "And I'd bet my career as a detective that he knows what happened to Marisol."

Garrison didn't stop him.

But his voice was flat as he followed. "Then let's go make him talk."

Chang was waiting for them.

He was leaned back, zip-tied to the chair, his expression lazy, unbothered.

The light overhead flickered, casting uneven shadows against the walls.

"Detectives," he greeted smoothly. "We all know how this goes. Let's just get it over with."

Garrison yanked the chair out from under the table and sat down with a sharp scrape of metal. "You're gonna tell me everything."

Chang just smiled, rolling his shoulders as much as his restraints allowed. "I'd love to, really. But my leader 's expecting me." He tilted his head, amused. "You should let me go. I wouldn't want to be late."

Garrison slammed his fist against the table. "Who the hell is your master?"

Chang chuckled. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Aiden kept his expression neutral. He studied the man in front of him.

Chang had been an old beat cop. Aiden had seen him around the force before. Heavyset, slow-moving, bitter about his years on the job.

Now, though—he had a youthfulness he could not place.

His eyes were clearer, his movements smoother. He looked like a man who had never spent his nights shuffling paperwork and chain-smoking in the back lot.

And the way he was smiling—gave aiden the creeps.

Something was off.

Aiden pulled out the chair across from him, lowering himself down slowly. "Why did you attack us," he said. "What was so important about that girl."

"Girl? Which one—Marisol?" He clicks his tongue. "Oh. No, wait. You mean Sophie!"

Aiden didn't blink. "So you do know who marisol is?"

Chang's smile didn't falter. "That's what you wanna lead with? Not how we got here?"

Garrison exhaled, slow, controlled.

Then he stood, chair scraping back.

"I'm not letting that slide."

"What do you know about my daughter?"

Chang piked back instantly. "Really? Already dropping Sophie?"

Garrison's hands slammed onto the table. The metal groaned beneath his grip. "Say Marisol's name again. See what happens."

Chang hummed, tilting his head toward Aiden. "What do you think, partner? Gonna let your buddy here work me over? I'm sure he's been waiting to get his hands on someone after losing all those good men tonight."

Garrison tensed.

Aiden placed a steadying hand on the table, speaking low. Controlled.

"You want me to lose my temper," he said flatly. "But I know your type. You love to hear yourself talk."

Chang grinned.

"So talk." Aiden leaned in slightly. "What did you do to Marisol?"

Chang held his gaze.

Something flickered behind his eyes. Something not human.

"Oh, " he murmured. "You haven't figured it out yet, have you?"

The door creaked open before Aiden could press further.

Shariff stepped inside, his expression grim. He carried a syringe in one hand, a thin manila file in the other.

"I need a sample," he said, already stepping toward Chang's arm.

Aiden and Garrison didn't stop him.

Shariff rolled Chang's sleeve up, found a vein, and pressed the needle in—

The blood never came.

Instead, the moment it left Chang's skin, it burned away to nothing.

Shariff recoiled. "Jesus."

Garrison swore under his breath.

Aiden face stayed blank. He had suspected as much.

Chang just chuckled.

"Side effect," he said lazily. "We don't bleed so good, doc."

Shariff's hand shook slightly as he stared at the empty syringe. "If we can't get a sample—" He exhaled sharply. "Then we can't study this. We can't stop it."

Chang's voice dipped into something almost soothing.

"You could, though." His gaze flicked to Shariff, his tone almost inviting. "Just let me bite you, doc. Take the edge off."

Garrison slammed his head into the table. "Shut up."

Chang brushed it off, lifting his head, black smoke curling from his nostrils. "Ow, that hurt."

Then—he tilted his head.

Studying Aiden.

"So, hero."

Chang smiled, lazy, knowing. "Let's talk about your little paradise."

Aiden's muscles tensed.

Chang's voice dropped into something almost thoughtful. "Tell me, Aiden."

The way he said his name made something crawl down his spine.

Like he knew him.

Like he had always known him.

Chang leaned forward, restraints pulling taut. His voice was almost curious.

"Tell them about your god, Sylva, and I'll tell you about mine?"

Aiden's breath stilled.

Chang smirked. "Or have you not shared that with them yet?"

The air turned frigid.

Garrison frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"

Aiden didn't respond.

Because he knew what Chang was really asking.

And he had no answer.

A beat of silence passed.

Then—

The phone rang.

The tension cracked.

Aiden pulled out his phone, heart hammering for reasons he didn't understand.

He answered, pressing it to his ear.

Rowan's voice came through sharp, urgent. "Aiden, it's me."

His whole world froze.

Then—

Lila.

"Aiden."

He closed his eyes.

For the first time in hours, he felt grounded.

Alive.

Her voice was soft. "You sound awful."

A breath of a laugh escaped him. Almost.

"We need to talk," Rowan cut in. "They're here."

Aiden exhaled. "I know... You guys were attacked, right?"

Rowan's voice was clipped. "How did you?... Yeah. The whole damn building turned."

"You guys made it out. That's all that matters. " Aiden exhaled. "If anything happened... never mind, did they say anything that can help us."

"Well, the guy did actually mention a name," Rowan said. "I think it was Mephisto."

Lila paused. Just long enough for Aiden to study aidens' voice.

"…Aiden?"

Her voice was soft. She knew her husband, and this wasn't like him.

"Are you okay?"

Silence.

Then—

Aiden's grip on his phone tightened.