Miss Witch’s Devotion Has Gone… Twisted

Loren comes to in a city that shouldn’t exist, under a sky crowded with eyes that aren’t stars.

He knows this place. Finale Aria—the game he’s sunk a thousand hours into, with lore threads and build guides still cluttering his old hard drive. Only now the madness and Elder Gods aren’t patch notes; they’re breathing down his neck.

His plan is simple: keep his head down, steal lines from the scripts he remembers, and muddle through life as a mediocre, ghost‑writing hack. No heroics. No flags triggered.

Then he brings home two strays.

They’re small, hungry, and wrong in a way the world can’t forgive. Witches—marked and discarded by the “righteous” order that runs this reality. The church calls them blasphemies. Nobles treat them like vermin. The gods stay silent.

Loren looks at them, at the broken rules he thought he knew, and makes a different choice.

If the holy ones refuse him, he’ll bargain with the Outer Gods instead. If a saint stands in his way, they’ll be the offering. Righteous, corrupt, eldritch—it all blurs together when every altar demands blood, and the only measure of divinity he recognizes is, "Do you protect what’s mine?"

He learns quickly how fragile a human life is here. One offended aristocrat, one careless word, and an entire family line disappears overnight. Loren smiles, nods, plays the fool—and quietly rewrites the script in his favor.

What he doesn’t notice, busy scheming against gods and nobles, is the way those two abandoned witches watch him now: not as a benefactor, not as a guardian, but as the one bright, twisted axis their world has begun to spin around—and the person they might just be willing to go mad for.