Season 2, Episode 17 — Silas's Bargain
Timeline: Two nights after Ep 16. Zack: Level 23, EXP 950/1000. Oath vector humming like a migraine that loves you. The city is twitchy—sirens constant, news cameras hungry, rumors birthing faster than rats in summer.
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Cold Open — Tribunal Invitation
The letter didn't come by mail. It came folded into a dying pigeon's beak, left on Silas's pillow at the flop they'd claimed above a pawnshop.
Zack walked in, pulling his hoodie off, chest still smoking from Surge training, and saw Silas holding the bird like it was a glass of wine. The letter was parchment, seal pressed in wax shaped like six teeth around a circle.
Luna frowned. "That's some medieval LARP shit. Who sends wax in New York?"
Silas set the letter on the table. "The Tribunal of Six."
Zack's HUD whispered it too, text bleeding red:
ALERT: External Entity — Tribunal of Six
Status: Governing council of prestige vampires
Intent: Summon Silas.
Zack looked up. "They want you."
Silas smiled faint, no teeth. "They always do. They taught me what to be. They never forgave me for refusing."
Luna leaned back, boots on the table. "So what—pow-wow with your old bosses while we fight river monsters?"
Silas's eyes glimmered silver. "If I refuse the summons, they come here. If I accept, I might buy you a week."
Zack crossed his arms, steel humming under skin. "If it's a trap, I break it."
"No," Silas said, sharp. "You can't break them yet. You're not at the table's weight."
Zack's vow burned anyway. "Then we flip the table."
Silas's smile deepened into something dangerous. "That's why they fear you."
The wax cracked under his thumb. Inside, the message: "Tonight. Cathedral under the Hudson. Alone."
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Act I — Underground Cathedral
They entered through a maintenance hatch half-swallowed by ivy. The tunnels widened into a subterranean cathedral carved from drowned stone. Pillars spiraled with engravings in languages that had teeth. The ceiling sweated saltwater.
At the far end, six thrones carved from whale bone sat in a crescent. Five were filled. Shadows clung to them like jealous lovers.
One: A woman draped in pearls, eyes black pools that swallowed light.
Two: A man with silver hair braided into ropes, jaw sharp as a guillotine.
Three: A figure wrapped in bandages, lips stitched, hands dripping ink.
Four: A boy's body with an old man's face, eyes like needles.
Five: A genderless shape in robes, face blurred, voice layered.
The sixth throne was empty.
Between them, a silver bell rested on a pedestal. Zack felt his vow twitch like it wanted to puke.
"Silas," said the pearl-eyed woman. "Our stray dog returns."
"You ran long enough," said the braid-jawed man. "We tire of indulgence."
The stitched-mouth figure hummed, ink dripping into runes that slithered across the floor toward Silas's boots.
Silas bowed just enough to mock. "You wrote me out of your book. Now you summon me for a footnote?"
"You drag a steelblood behind you," the boy-old one said. His voice was knives in milk. "You walk with oath-burn. That makes you a liability."
Zack stepped forward, fists flexing. "Talk to me, not about me."
The blurred figure tilted its head. "The boy's rude."
"He's alive," Silas said.
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Act II — The Offer
The pearl-eyed woman smiled. "We will make this simple. The boy is accelerating too quickly. His vow threatens our balance. Prestige is not for accidents."
The braid-jawed man leaned forward. "Deliver him. Bind him. We'll temper him. He can join us, slowly. Controlled."
Zack spat on the stone floor. It hissed like acid. "Not happening."
The stitched-mouth's runes crawled up the pedestal, brushing the silver bell. The sound it made wasn't a ring—it was the idea of a ring, sliding into their skulls.
Zack staggered, clutching his chest. The vow screamed:
ALERT: Tribunal Debt Oath Pressure
Effect: Surge efficiency −20%
Silas's hands trembled at his sides. He looked at Zack once, quick, then back at the council. "You want to leash him. You'll break him before you build him. That's not your right."
The boy-old one sneered. "And whose right is it? Yours, Silas? You broke your own oath. You crawled from Prestige into gutters. You're a warning, not an answer."
Silas stepped closer to the bell. "I didn't break. I refused."
The blurred figure leaned in. "Then prove it. Kill the Shade General we've seeded in this chamber. Let us see if you're worth disobedience."
The stone floor cracked. From it rose a Shade General—ten feet of fused armor and sinew, carrying a glaive dripping black ichor. Its skull helmet split to reveal a maw full of chanting voices.
HUD screamed in Zack's vision:
BOSS: Shade General (Tribunal Trial)
Threat: Level 40 Equivalent
Your Level: 23
"Fuck," Zack muttered.
Silas's coin glinted between his fingers. "He can't win yet. They know it."
"Then help me," Zack growled.
"No," Silas said. His silver eyes blazed. "This is my bargain."
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Act III — General of Broken Oaths
The Shade General swung its glaive. The arc carved a pew into splinters. Zack lunged, fists sparking, but the glaive met him mid-charge, carving sparks across his ribs.
VITALITY: 62%
He staggered, spat blood, dove again. His steel fists hammered the General's chest—dents, not breaks. The thing backhanded him into a pillar.
VITALITY: 41%
The Tribunal watched like spectators at opera. The pearl-eyed woman whispered, "See? Fragile."
Zack rose, steel veins glowing hotter. Hearthchain snapped to a chunk of fallen pew—yank—he swung it like a bat, smashing the General's helm sideways. It roared, ichor spraying.
+300 EXP
EXP: 1250 / 1000
LEVEL UP → 24
Gain: Surge Control ↑ | VIT +
The General drove its glaive down. Zack caught the shaft with both hands. Sparks shrieked as steel screamed. The weapon pressed closer, teeth inched from his skull.
"Silas!" Zack roared.
Silas didn't move. He flicked his coin once, caught it. "Break it yourself."
Zack bared his steel fangs, roared, and bit into the glaive shaft. His teeth punctured alloy. Sparks exploded. He snapped the weapon in half. The General howled.
Hearthchain lashed out—click, click, click, click—all four tethers wrapping the monster's limbs. Zack yanked, pulling it wide like a crucifixion. His fists became pistons, smashing its chest until bone cracked, sinew tore, ichor drowned the floor.
The vow roared approval.
+800 EXP (Boss Kill)
EXP: 1050 / 1000
LEVEL UP → 25
Gain: Hearthchain Split (5) | Overclock Heal +
The General collapsed, shrieking into silence.
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Act IV — The Bargain Paid
Zack stood smoking, chest heaving. He glared at the Tribunal. "Not fragile. Not yours."
The pearl-eyed woman leaned back. "Interesting."
The braid-jawed man sneered. "He'll burn out."
The boy-old one smirked. "Or Prestige too soon and collapse."
The blurred figure's voice doubled. "Silas. You protected him. That was your bargain. You stand outside us forever."
Silas's eyes gleamed silver fire. "I never stood with you."
The stitched-mouth raised a dripping hand. "Then go. But know this—when he Prestiges, we'll come. And we'll take something you can't replace."
The silver bell on the pedestal shivered, but did not ring.
Silas bowed mockingly. "Then bring a real appetite."
He turned and walked. Zack followed, steel veins still burning. Luna caught his eye from the shadows, axe on her shoulder, Mateo tucked behind her. She mouthed: We out?
He nodded once.
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Epilogue — Silas's Choice
Back in the wet night, under the city's hum, Zack grabbed Silas's shoulder. "You could've stepped in."
Silas lit a cigarette, eyes on the skyline. "If I had, you'd have thought you were still a child. You needed to bite steel until it broke. That's how Prestige is born."
Zack's fangs glinted. "And what's your bargain now?"
Silas exhaled smoke. "That you survive long enough to see me break the Tribunal myself."
The vow thrummed approval. Zack's HUD whispered:
ARC PROGRESS: Tribunal Interdiction — Survived
LEVEL 25
NEXT: Ep 18 — Dock 17 Redux: The Living Ship
Zack looked up at the dripping bridge above, steel veins humming. "Prestige or die," he whispered.
The city shivered like it had heard and was taking bets.