The air in Faust’s workshop was heavy with the scent of wood, oil, and something older—a tang that clung to the walls like a memory. Faust stood over his workbench, his fingers trembling as they traced the symbols etched into the wood. The eldritch circle glowed faintly, its light flickering in rhythm with his heartbeat. The promise of knowledge, of power, pressed against his chest like a weight.

He whispered the incantation, his voice steady despite the doubt that gnawed at him. The air shifted, the temperature spiking as a low hiss filled the room. The lantern’s light seemed to twist, bending unnaturally as shadows coalesced into a figure.

Mephistopheles stepped into this dimension.

The devil’s form was flawless yet uncanny, his skin glowing faintly like rock. His hair shimmered like copper, and his eyes held the intensity of twin suns. He moved with the grace of a predator, his every step deliberate.

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“You called,” Mephistopheles said, his voice smooth and low. “What is it you seek, Alchemist?”

Faust straightened, his heart pounding. “I seek wisdom,” he said. “The kind of wisdom that will let me love her the way she deserves. To understand her fully. To make her... mine.”

The devil’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Ah, love,” he said, his tone amused. “Such a fragile, volatile thing. You think wisdom will give you the power to bind her to you?”

“I don’t want to bind her,” Faust said quickly. “I want to support her. To... earn her trust.”

Mephistopheles tilted his head, his copper hair catching the light. “Love is not an equation, Faust. It cannot be solved or mastered. But if wisdom is what you desire, I can grant it.”

Faust hesitated, his instincts warning him to tread carefully. “What’s the price?”

“The price,” Mephistopheles said, stepping closer, “is perspective. You will see things as they are—not as you wish them to be. You will know the truth of her heart... and your own.”

Faust swallowed hard. “And if I accept?”

Mephistopheles extended a hand, his smile widening. “Then you will have your wisdom.”

Faust hesitated for only a moment before clasping the devil’s hand. The circle flared, the heat growing unbearable. When the light faded, Mephistopheles was gone, and Faust was alone.