The grim urgency of the situation, the impending collapse of cultivation, forced Elias and Mei Lin to take drastic measures. Their only hope lay in the Sylvans, their deep connection to the ley lines, and their potential to stabilize the spiraling chaos.
Mei Lin, her face grim with determination, stepped forward. "I will contact the Sylvans," she announced. "They are the key to stabilizing the ley lines. They understand these energies better than anyone."
Elias knew the risk. The Sylvans were neutral, fiercely protective of their own, and deeply distrustful of human interference. He had already implicated the Bloodkin to protect them from the Guild. He was walking a tightrope of alliances and betrayals.
"What will you offer them?" Elias asked, knowing a plea for help wouldn't be enough.
Mei Lin met his gaze, her eyes cold and resolute. "I will offer them your research on the bomb," she declared. "Everything you know about its resonance, its structure, its effects. They can use that knowledge to formulate a counter-frequency, to save the ley lines. In exchange, they will provide the aid we need for immediate ley line stabilization around Jadeheart."
Elias felt a cold dread. His research contained not just the bomb's mechanics, but also the methods of its creation, the underlying principles of Arthan's void-creating technology. It was dangerous knowledge.
But the betrayal risk ran deeper. The Sylvans, fiercely pragmatic, demanded a guarantee, a measure of trust from the elusive "Accountant." Their terms were clear: they demanded Elias's karmic lens as collateral—the very device that contained the records of his deepest manipulations, his every lie, his every hidden crime. It was a complete surrender of his secrets, a forfeiture of his entire identity as a manipulator.
Elias hesitated, his hand instinctively going to his pocket where the lens rested. To give up the lens was to give up his ultimate defense, his ability to prove his methods were for a greater good. It was to become truly vulnerable.
"They will see everything," Elias said, his voice strained. "Every manipulation. Every lie. Every instance of… collateral damage."
Mei Lin's expression softened, a rare flicker of empathy. "I know. But there is no other way, Elias. This is the only currency they trust. Your secrets for their aid. If you want their help, you must pay the price."
After a long, agonizing moment, Elias finally nodded. "Very well," he conceded. "But I will wipe the most damning data." He would not expose the full extent of his moral compromises, the innocent lives he had indirectly impacted. He meticulously purged the deepest, most morally ambiguous records from the lens's memory, leaving only enough to explain his methods, his targets, and the dire threat of the bomb, maintaining just enough to establish a fragile basis of trust with the Sylvans.
He handed the karmic lens to Mei Lin, its cool surface feeling strangely lighter without the full weight of his hidden history. He had gambled his secrets, his very soul, on the hope that the Sylvans would honor their bargain. The price for his desperation was steep, but the alternative was annihilation.