The rain had stopped outside the chapel, but its scent lingered—cool, earthy, clinging to the mind like a memory of fresh cut grass. Puddles scattered across the cracked concrete caught flashes of distant headlights, the early morning casting warped reflections.
The silence that followed fell over the battle like fresh snowfall.
The tear was gone. So was Marisol.
If not for the broken glass and the strange burns still etched into the pavement, it might've seemed like nothing had happened at all.
But for those who had seen it—who had felt the shift in the air, the silence after the scream—it would never be the same again.
Rowan bounced on her heels, still holding Phoebe's hand like she might vanish if she let go. "Okay! So—uh—Phoebe, this is Lila, my best friend in the entire world. And this dork here—" she jabbed a thumb at Aiden, "—is basically my adopted brother. He's always saving our butts, like, it might as well be his job at this point."
Phoebe smiled warmly, her eyes flicking between them with quiet recognition. "Oh yeah... how much are you charging them?"
Aiden gave a short laugh. "Oh you know. Depends on the day."
Lila tilted her head, her glee for her friend softening the tiredness in her face. "It's nice to meet you finally."
Phoebe's gaze dropped for a moment, a flicker of guilt passing through her flame-lit eyes. "thank you for watching over my Rowan."
Rowan nudged her gently. "Hey. No more of the mushy stuff. You're here. We're all a family now."
Aiden looked out toward the cracked streets, already hearing distant sirens winding up in the distance. "We should go. Last thing we need is to explain all this to the cops— not a good look with all of the explosions, gunfire, a church with half its roof gone…"
"Right," Rowan said, tugging Phoebe's hand like a kid dragging her date to prom. "I vote for breakfast. Something greasy with pancakes."
Lila nodded absently, starting toward the exit—until something made her stop.
She froze, one hand catching the doorframe of the shattered church. Her breath labored.
"Something's wrong—" she panted, one hand instinctively flying to her belly.
Aiden was at her side instantly, his face pale.
"Lila?"
Lila felt a warm gush of fluid between her legs. It was like the breaking of a tiny dam, a low, resonant thump that was the prelude to everything.
She looked up at him, eyes wide but determined. "The baby... it's coming."
Panic buzzed through the group like an electric current.
Rowan swore under her breath, already shrugging her battered jacket over Lila's shoulders.
"Come on!" Aiden barked, scooping Lila into his arms despite her protests.
Rowan lunged forward. "She's in labor!"
Aiden's face went pale. "Hospital—now. Move!"
Phoebe, still adjusting to her restored body, grabbed Rowan's hand again without missing a beat. She squeezed her hand as they ran forward to commandeer a vehicle from the curb. Praying one of them had a spare key hidden away.
The morning mist felt nice and cool against their sweaty faces. Lady Luck was on their side as they piled into a little minivan from one of Carlos's familia.
They raced through the streets, the dawn just beginning to peel open above them, painting the clouds in bruised purples and soft golds.
Hope may be fragile. But it was real.
Everything felt… almost normal.
In the opposite direction. Not very far away, unnoticed by the joy that blossomed quietly among them—
Carlos limped toward the old Best Buy building he had claimed mere hours ago for insurance as his backup plan.
Inside, what remained of his familia would be standing among the shattered displays and darkened shelves. Waiting for his word to inact plan b. If all else fails, all they had to do was attack the block and infect thousands. Then, they would have the numbers to infect the whole state. Hell, the they could spread and over take the world.
That would teach the whole damn lot of them.
Carlos kicked the door open with a battered boot and stumbled inside.
All eyes turned toward him.
He stood in the doorway, panting, the overwhelming force of Mephisto's stolen power slowly starting to burn painfully in his veins.
Sophie was already there, leaning against a shattered display with her arms crossed like she owned the room. Natalie stood beside her, arms wrapped lightly around herself, the expression of fear and confusion plastering her delicate features.
Carlos froze.
"You—" he coughed, the smoke around his ribs curling tighter as his body slowly knit itself back together. "Where the hell were you?! We could've won! If you'd been there, we would've won!"
Sophie raised an eyebrow, unbothered. "That's one way to look at it."
Natalie stepped forward, her voice like a breeze trying to smooth over jagged glass. "Don't be so hard on her, leader. She came to get reinforcements—like you asked. She didn't abandon you."
Carlos glared at Sophie. "So where were they? Huh? We lost our one and only ticket home. Thanks to her little stunt."
Sophie's gaze was flat, her voice disturbingly calm. "How was I suppose to know they would get the best of us like that? That's more than any of us could have expected."
Natalie's stepped in between them. Her lips curled in a snarl. "Yeah leaders back that's all that matters, but... something smells off. I just cant put my finger on it."
Sophie's smile was brittle and cold ignoring Natalie. "Then what now?"
"We're not done," he rasped, voice cracking. "They think they won. That some curse will break our bonds."
He slammed a fist against a shattered counter.
"But they wont! Our goddess—our destiny—lives on! We will rebuild! We will rise again!"
Some of the familia stirred, uncertain, their faces flickering between loyalty and fear.
Carlos grinned, a wild, broken thing. "Are you with me?!"
A few gave weak cheers, more out of habit than true belief.
He didn't care.
He staggered deeper inside, blind to the figure quietly stepping in behind him.
A whisper of movement—by the the time he noticed, it was too late.
Pain exploded through his spine.
Carlos gasped, dropping to his knees as the blade slipped between his vertebrae, neatly severing the connection between mind and body.
He collapsed onto the cracked tile, his fingers scrabbling weakly at the floor.
Behind him, Sophie stood—shoulders relaxed, blade still bellowing smoke.
And beside her—
"Natalie?" Carlos rasped, his voice catching in disbelief.
She looked stricken.
Eyes wide. Hands trembling.
"What… Sophie, what did you do?" Natalie's voice cracked. "he's our leader— he's one of us!"
But Sophie didn't even flinch. Her crimson eyes shimmered with quiet amusement, lips curled into a slow, cold smile.
Carlos tried to turn, but his legs refused. Smoke leaked from his spine.
Natalie took a step back, her hands half-raised between them, torn between horror and awe. "I—I didn't know. I swear. Sophie, tell him—tell him you didn't mean—"
Sophie's smile only widened.
"Oh, Natalie," she said sweetly, her voice velvet-wrapped poison. "just shut up for once and behave."
"Wh... why?" Carlos wheezed, spitting blood. "I'm the leader... what are yo—"
Sophie crouched, tilting her head with mock sympathy.
"Am I doing?," she said silkily. "I could ask the same thing, Carlos. A beautiful little puppet. So earnest. So desperate to survive. The way you heartlessly sacrificed that girl... in the beginning... just chef's kiss"
She tapped a finger against Carlos's forehead, grinning wider.
"I gave you just enough freedom to think you were the one pulling the strings."
Carlos shook, rage bleeding out of him like his life. "You can't be... its not possible."
He leered up, staring up at Sophie—no, at Mephisto—the twisted smile pulling at her lips.
Carlos trembled, rage flashing in his broken body. "I wrote my own destiny!"
Mephisto laughed—a sound like a dagger dragged across silk. "No, little puppet. Our goddesses ascension needed an antagonist. That's all. You played your part beautifully and now she has. You should be proud to be part of my masterpiece."
Carlos tried to rally his followers. "Kill her—Natalie kill it!"
But she didn't move.
Other than Natalie none even blinked.
Mephisto's smile widened as he crouched beside Carlos.
"And now..." he murmured, plunging his hand casually into Carlos's chest.
Carlos screamed in agony as Mephisto's fingers closed around the red core Carlos had stolen—the one Carlos had ripped from Mephisto's heart when he believed he'd won.
With a wet, ripping sound, Mephisto tore the core free. It pulsed once in his hand—a brilliant, furious red.
Mephisto admired it for a moment, then simply absorbed it back into his palm.
"I'll be taking this back," he said, almost kindly.
Carlos sobbed, broken and hollow.
"W-why?" Carlos choked out.
"This was always going to be how it ended, that's why," Mephisto said lightly, standing again, dusting imaginary dirt from his sleeves.
He turned, addressing the stunned familia watching in mute horror.
"I wonder," Mephisto mused aloud, pacing lazily through the crowd as if to an audience that could not be perseved. "If one was able to go back and read through my script again. Could they tell when I took over this little story... oh I do hope they were paying attention."
Carlos clawed at the floor, dragging his broken body after him. "Who are you even talking to?!" he howled at the others. "Why wont any of you stop him!?"
Mephisto chuckled, a soft, wicked sound.
"See?" he said, almost kindly. "They're done playing your game. Not that they had any choice in the matter."
Carlos's vision blurred at the edges. His heart hammered weakly against his ribs, desperate.
"Just finish me off." he croaked. His form slowly dissipating into smoke
Mephisto crouched again, close enough that Carlos could see the madness gleaming in his smile.
"I'm the director, little star," he whispered. "The one who wrote your script and I did not permit you to beg."
And with a casual flick of his wrist, a shot rang out from Natalie's gun. Carlos's body was engulfed in a puff of black smoke, scattering him like ash on the wind.
When the smoke cleared, only silence remained.
Mephisto turned back to the stunned crowd, slipping his hands into his pockets, utterly relaxed.
"Now then," he said brightly, as if nothing monumental had just happened. "Where too next?"
The familia—the broken, lost souls who had once followed Carlos without question—slowly, almost numbly, gathered around Mephisto.
There was no protest.
Only resignation—and a sea of soulless eyes back under his control.
Mephisto looked out over them, his grin shark-like. He ran a finger along Natalie's deadpan face admiring his favorite extra.
"I know just the place, my master," she said.
Mephistos grin widened ten fold in glee.
"We're going to have so much fun in this little world," he said, his voice warm and deadly all at once.
He sauntered to the shattered doors, the familia falling into step behind him. The rest of mephistos servants joined his ranks as they walked
The world outside was still waking up, oblivious to the monsters now quietly walking its streets.
Mephisto didn't look back.
Mephisto brimmed with excitment.
His mind brimming with glee. Over the endless, intoxicating entertainment and freedom this world had to offer.
Mephisto tipped an invisible hat to the sunrise. Behind him, the familia shuffled forward like shadows. The city yawned awake, unaware the curtain had already fallen on his first act.