(We couldn't post the chapter yesterday because we've had some serious problems with the Doc Manager. The problem went away as it came, and everything is back to normal. Our sincerest apologies!)

Happy holidays to everyone!

Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and cheering our story along! Your engagement means the world to us, and we're so grateful for each and every one of you.

With that, we're excited to present a brand-new chapter for you to enjoy. We hope it brings a little extra joy to your holiday season. Here's to many more adventures together!

Stay safe and happy reading!

Aisling felt something cold slide across her forehead, slowly trickling down her face to her throat, slipping beneath her clothes, while an intense, almost unbearable heat burned through every fiber of her body. She felt as though she were on fire. Each breath was a struggle, the air barely entering her lungs, every inhalation an ordeal.

A gentle, reassuring hand smoothed her hair slowly. This touch kept her anchored in reality, amidst the pain overwhelming her. Her eyelids trembled, fluttered, and she finally opened her eyes, struggling to make out her surroundings. The light was dim, the outlines blurred. It took her a moment to recognize the immense ceiling of the Tree of Life's cavern in the Twilight Realm.

Above her, Fury's face gradually came into focus—severe, but softened by an unexpected kind of compassion. The Rider supported her, holding her propped against her thigh, delicately running a damp cloth over her face to soothe the infernal heat raging within her.

"Easy, little one," she murmured in a deep but strangely comforting voice. "You've been through a lot."

Still dazed, Aisling allowed Fury to help her sit up further, clutching her throat with a grimace of pain. Every movement, every breath, was an effort, as though her body had been shattered and hastily pieced back together, the seams still raw. Her eyes sought to make sense of her surroundings. Not far from her, she spotted Idris and Fenja, deep in conversation with Strife. They looked worried, but the Horsman placed a calming hand on their shoulders, keeping them from approaching her. Further away, she caught sight of Samyaza exchanging words with Nimue, the two of them immersed in a discussion from which she could only catch fragments.

Her throat tightened, and she struggled to utter a word, her voice hoarse and broken.

"What… happened?"

Aisling felt a hand on her back, the reassuring pressure from Fury helping her regain a semblance of balance. But as she instinctively ran a hand over her chest, she froze. Something was wrong. Beneath her skin, just at her sternum, a painful bulge had formed. Her breath hitched, and looking down, she spotted something—black lines snaking out like veins from the protrusion.

Her heart pounded wildly. Her trembling fingers brushed against the swollen area beneath her skin, pain radiating from that precise point. She cast a panicked glance at Fury.

"What is this?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Fury met her gaze, a mix of gravity and empathy in her eyes.

"Roots," she replied calmly.

Fury's words triggered violent flashes of memory in Aisling's mind. The chamber with glowing waters, the seed... and then the unbearable pain. Her mind connected the dots. The seed was inside her.

She opened her mouth to ask another question, but a low rumble suddenly resonated from the Tree of Life and Death, cutting through her thoughts. The portal crackled, emitting an intense light, and with a crash, Death and War emerged, their bodies covered in mud, blood, and viscera, as though they had just traversed an infernal battlefield.

Death did not stop. He strode forward, one of his scythes in hand, his gaze fixed on Aisling. Fury slowly stood, as if trying to calm a predator, attempting to place herself in his path.

"Easy, brother," she said, raising a hand, her tone respectful but tinged with worry. "She's in no condition to…"

Death, without so much as a glance at her, brushed her aside with a merciless gesture. A wave of pure terror surged through Aisling. Her survival instincts screamed at her to move, to get away from this being of terrifying power. But she didn't have the time.

With a swift and precise motion, Death grabbed her by the collar of her clothing, his armored claws scratching her skin, and lifted her effortlessly. She found herself suspended above the icy water of the natural pool behind her, unable to break free, her feet splashing on the surface. The cold water soaked her legs, but the searing heat of fear almost blinded her.

"Death!" Fury called out, obvious distress in her voice.

Aisling clutched desperately at the Rider's hand holding her aloft, her breath stolen, terrified that he could crush her in an instant. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Strife holding back Idris and Fenja from coming to her aid, apparently for their own safety.

"What have you done?" he growled, his voice terribly calm, cold, cutting like the blade of his scythe.

His words weighed heavily, resonating within her like an inevitable judgment. Aisling felt her body trembling, unsure if it was the cold from the icy water or sheer terror paralyzing her. She tried to struggle, but it was futile.

"Let me go!" she screamed, panic completely taking over her. But Death ignored her, his attention now fixed on the bulge above her chest.

With a quick and precise motion, he raised his scythe, its sharp tip aimed directly at the protrusion, ready to extract it in one swift strike. Aisling felt her heart skip a beat. She couldn't move or cry out, as if the world had frozen around her. The air felt impossibly heavy. Her thoughts spiraled uncontrollably.

Fury sprang forward again, her voice laced with panic.

"Brother, wait—!"

But before she could finish, a shockwave suddenly erupted from the seed, at the very moment Death's blade was about to pierce her skin. The raw energy that burst forth, as violent as it was unexpected, sent Death flying across the cave, crashing into the wall with such force that chunks of rock were torn loose as he slammed into it.

Aisling fell heavily into the water, overwhelmed by the shock and cold. She surfaced, gasping, desperately trying to breathe. Her body trembled from the adrenaline, and the pain still pierced through her chest.

On the other side of the cave, Death struggled to rise, his armor now covered in debris. He seemed groggy, but unhurt. Samyaza then stepped forward, his movements slow but imbued with calm wisdom.

"It's useless, Horseman," he said gravely. "The seed will not be dislodged so easily."

War, who had been silently observing the scene, took a step forward. Without warning, he grabbed the Watcher by the throat with his massive armored gauntlet, lifting him like a ragdoll. His eyes burned with rage, and his voice rumbled like a storm.

"You knew," he said, each word dripping with threat. "You sent her knowing what would happen."

Samyaza, though suspended by War's iron grip, didn't seem surprised. His eyes remained calm, impassive, even as the Rider tightened his grip around his neck, the joints of his gauntlet creaking under the pressure.

"You deceived her into going to retrieve this… thing! Why?" War growled, the menace in his voice more palpable than ever.

"You... you wouldn't understand..." The Watcher struggled to respond, his voice breaking under the Horseman's iron grip, each word an effort. "What sacrifice represents..."

His words left a chilling atmosphere in the room, like a cold draft slicing through the thick, heavy air of the cave. Aisling, still trembling and disoriented, felt panic rise in her once more. With Fury's help, she pulled herself out of the icy water, clinging to her to steady herself. Her legs wavered under the effort, but she managed to stand. Eyes fixed on the scene, she raised a trembling hand toward War.

"Don't hurt him!" she cried, her voice broken. "He didn't lie to me… it was my choice."

Fury, still close to Aisling, nodded gravely.

"You can't comprehend what this means. Even we don't know what it is, other than an artifact of the Council. Which can't be good news..."

Despite the searing pain in her chest, Aisling pulled away from Fury with determination. She took small steps toward War, her breath shallow but her gaze now firm with a newfound resolve.

"I know what it is. A seed from the Tree of Life... from Earth."

A silence fell in the cave, hanging like a held breath. Everyone seemed to hold their breath, absorbed by the enormity of Aisling's words. Finally, Death broke the silence, his dark gaze striking the old Watcher with an icy intensity.

"Lie," he said, his voice as sharp as his scythe. "The Tree was reduced to ashes. There is nothing left. And even if it were true, the girl would be dead. "

Ainsling shivered, not from cold this time. Samyaza, still weak and held in War's grip, managed to respond, his voice trembling but firm.

"There's so much you don't know, Horsemen. If the Council had let Creation know this... if they had allowed the rest of the worlds to demand answers... By destroying the last seed, they would have exposed themselves. How could they justify wanting to reconnect Humanity to the universe one day if they had completely destroyed all possibilities? It was promised long ago that the Tree would be replanted one day... Now that day is closer than ever."

Samyaza cast a meaningful look at them, his tone heavy.

"If you truly want to help mankind, then hurry… Aisling's already running out of time."

Fenja, still in the shadows, stepped forward, her face marked by sudden concern.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.

At a cold gesture from Death, War finally released his grip, and the old Watcher collapsed to the ground, weaker than ever. Nimue rushed to help him as he placed a trembling hand on his throat, struggling to catch his breath. When he spoke again, he carefully avoided looking at Aisling, as though fearing what would come next.

"The seed… It needs to feed. It will draw from the host until it's replanted..."

Samyaza's words struck Aisling like a blow to the head. A chill ran through her from head to toe. She should have expected it. The old Watcher had warned her from the start. The voice in the temple, too. But still, hearing the truth stated so coldly, so concretely, stole her breath away.

Her gaze lost focus, her thoughts spiraling in a whirlwind of confusion and fear. Her hand instinctively went to her chest, where the seed had taken root. The relentless pain pulsed, a vision made real, just as the truth now was—one she could no longer escape. Idris, brow furrowed, watched the Watcher closely.

"Okay, I'll ask the question again, because it lacks detail. What does that mean, exactly?"

For the first time, Aisling found the courage to say the words that summed up this brutal reality. Her voice, weak but resolute, pierced the silence.

"It means I'm going to die."

Fenja ran her fingers slowly, almost meditatively, along the feathers of an arrow resting on her thighs, seated in a corner of the library. The place was steeped in a heavy silence, an atmosphere filled with tension and uncertainty. She remembered her days spent here as a teenager, blackening maps she had created by hand while Aisling devoured the tomes on each shelf in search of a solution for the soulless children. Back then, she had never truly believed they would find anything, let alone that it would lead to such a catastrophe.

Her eyes fell on the young healer, sitting a little further away. Ciaran, the village herbalist, was examining the black roots spreading beneath her skin, marking her chest just above the curve of her breasts. Aisling seemed distant, her green eyes lost in a void Fenja couldn't penetrate. She no longer seemed fully present—physically there, but her mind was elsewhere, resigned... or perhaps resolved?

Fenja's heart tightened. She knew the pain of grief; the loss of her father still burned within her, digging that unfathomable void that clawed and screamed in her soul. The longer she looked at Aisling, the more she realized she couldn't bear the thought of losing someone so close again. But despite this pain, there was something about Aisling that made her different. She didn't resemble those hunters Fenja had seen die, battling fate with denial, anger, or despair. No, Aisling seemed... ready for whatever was to come.

Idris, for his part, was pacing nearby, his mother Brianna discussing things with him, asking methodical and professional questions. She didn't seem angry, just focused. Meanwhile, the Four Horsemen were making Samyaza repeat everything he had told them earlier. Ren was listening intently. He, too, seemed to struggle to maintain a calm facade, but in his eyes, you could see he was crumbling inside. Even though Aisling wasn't his real daughter, he had raised her and loved her as if she were.

Fenja would have liked to hate the specter, call him a traitor or a liar, but she knew he had spoken the truth. Aisling herself had acknowledged it. Still, the idea that the price for saving that seed was her friend's life was unbearable to her. She could understand it on a rational level, but she certainly couldn't accept it.

Ciaran finally straightened up after finishing his examination and turned toward Ren, his expression grave.

"It has already spread its roots up to the first ribs and around the sternum. I can't say what will happen next..."

"It will continue to seek an energy source," Samyaza nodded, his voice rising softly in echo.

"Will it necessarily be fatal for her?"

"Even if it were replanted in time, it would have absorbed a great deal of her energy and..."

Ren, desperate, turned to the Horsemen, pleading, his eyes betraying his inner distress.

"Then there's a chance! There must be something you can do. You can't leave her like this!"

"I'm sorry, Guardian," Fury placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. "This is a magic we didn't even think existed. We don't even know how she could have survived it in the first place. Only the Council has the answers and—"

"The seed needs to return to Earth." Aisling interrupted him, rising slowly with cautious deliberation.

The Horsemen exchanged heavy looks. War, in particular, seemed reluctant.

"Even if we could escort you there, Earth is nothing more than a barren rock. Devastated by years of war between Heaven and Hell. The demons have turned it into a playground."

"We have no other choice."

"You do have another choice," Death approached her, his cold aura softened for the first time by a shadow of compassion. "You can stay here and make the most of the time you have left. Help your people rebuild a life here."

"I am a healer," Aisling shook her head, determined. "I know what will happen when the roots invade my lungs, my muscles... when they encircle my bones... my heart... What's more, we know that humanity can't wait here for the next attack. All this has to stop. You say you want to help us, then help us return to the Balance. I know ... you must find those responsible. But we no longer have the luxury of waiting. If I... if I must... die, then let it be for a cause that is worth it."

A heavy silence fell over the library. No one dared to respond. Fenja felt her heart dissolve even more as she looked at Aisling. This stoic acceptance seemed unreal. Death seemed to be thinking, lost in his thoughts. Then Strife placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's be realistic," he said in a pragmatic voice. "We don't have a better plan. The humans are safe for now, but that might not last. And we can't stay here forever without knowing who's behind all of this."

"If we return to Earth, we might not only solve the seed issue but also find out who the culprits are and rehabilitate the human realm," Fury nodded, his gaze briefly sweeping over the humans in the room. "Maybe even... give it back to them."

"It's not for us to take sides," War breathed deeply, his tone grave reminding them of their primary mission. "We serve the Balance."

"But she has a point… They are part of it."

Death slowly nodded, his cold gaze lightening slightly.

"Then it's decided. We return to Earth."

Fenja straightened up, putting her arrow back in her quiver with a determined motion. She spoke in a clear and firm voice, leaving no room for hesitation.

"I'm coming."

"Me too," Idris did the same, jumping to his feet beside her, his gaze bright with a resolution that seemed new.

Ren, caught off guard, raised his hands in a desperate gesture, trying to dissuade them. Brianna stepped forward too, placing a firm hand on her son's shoulder. But neither Fenja nor Idris flinched. Death's voice, acidic and grating, split the air with a biting edge.

"This isn't a country stroll, kid."

Idris turned to him, fists clenched, and replied with a confidence he rarely showed.

"I know. Maybe I haven't traveled across the universe like you, maybe I've never fought titans or accomplished feats as incredible as the ones that fuel the legends about you. But this is about the future of humanity, and we have a say in it. This is our fight too."

He paused, meeting Death's gaze defiantly, then continued, his words resonating through the library.

"I'm not an idiot. The attack on Nimrach was a brutal reminder that we're not ready to face this war. But that doesn't mean we should stop fighting. It just means we need to fight differently."

Fenja, beside him, watched Idris, speechless. She had never heard such strength in his voice, and this new side of him surprised her so much that she suddenly felt a surge of emotion that she repressed, almost shocked by its intensity. She desperately wanted to kiss him. She shook her head slightly, pushing the impulse aside.

"And anyways, where Aisling goes, we go too," Idris continued with fierce determination. "Especially if there's a chance to stop this thing from killing her. You have your siblings, we have our."

The young healer, silent until then, looked at them. She didn't need to say anything, her eyes spoke for her. The love and gratitude she felt for her two friends were palpable. Brianna, though trying to hide it, couldn't prevent a glimmer of pride from appearing in her eyes as she looked at her son. She nodded imperceptibly, finally accepting his decision.

Fury and Strife exchanged an amused glance.

"It's always three, isn't it?" Fury smiled to herself.

Death, for his part, let out a long, exasperated sigh, his imposing figure seeming to bend under an invisible weight.

"Very well," he finally muttered. "But know this: human or not, if you prevent us from doing what we have to do, I will kill you myself."

His piercing gaze swept over the two young humans, a clear warning in his steel eyes. Idris nodded in acceptance, then cast a discreet look at Fenja, with a slight forced smile. That quick but expressive look clearly said:

"Don't ever let me do that again."