Iris remained beneath the streetlight, listening to screams echo from every direction.
Some were distant, others frighteningly close, but most ended within seconds.
Anyone unfortunate enough to appear alone in the darkness was quickly hunted down and torn apart.
That was the nature of a Devil’s Footprint.
Surviving inside one was nearly impossible even for experienced Cursebearers, especially with the amount of Miasma saturating the air.
Breathing it wasn’t the real danger.
The problem came when it entered the bloodstream.
A single scratch, bite, or open wound could allow enough Miasma inside to poison someone within minutes.
“Iris…”
Her eyes widened.
“Iris, where are you?”
Iris immediately recognized the voice.
“Mom?” She spun toward it.
“Mom, I’m right here! Over here!”
A figure stumbled through the darkness ahead.
Sarah emerged between the crimson structures, barely able to remain standing.
Black water soaked her clothes and hair, while cuts and injuries covered her body.
Iris’s heart dropped.
“Mom!” She immediately stepped toward the edge of the light.
“Mom, are you okay? Come here, I’ll—”
Her foot stopped inches before crossing into the darkness.
Iris froze.
Something wasn’t right.
Sarah remained outside the streetlight’s glow.
“Mom…” Iris stared at her carefully.
“What did we have for dinner last night?”
Sarah laughed softly.
“Why are you asking something like that? Come on, honey. It’s not safe here. We need to get going.”
She extended her hand.
“Step out of the light for Mom.”
Iris didn’t move.
Sarah’s smile remained warm.
“Please, honey.”
Still, she refused to take even a single step closer.
Iris slowly lowered her raised foot.
“Answer the question.”
Sarah tilted her head.
“Step out of the light, Iris.”
Her smile stretched slightly wider.
“Please.”
Iris’s eyes narrowed.
The thing wearing her mother’s face blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then several more times in rapid succession.
“Step out of the light.”
Iris stared at it in silence.
The creature’s smile widened even further.
“Please step out of the light for Mom.”
The pieces finally clicked into place.
“It’s reading my memories of her,” Iris muttered.
“That’s why you can’t answer me. I don’t remember what we ate twenty years ago, so neither do you.” Her expression darkened as she stared at the thing wearing her mother’s face.
“And you haven’t stepped into the light once. You can’t, can you?”
Fear slowly gave way to anger.
Of every face this place could have chosen, it had decided to wear hers.
Iris glanced across the bridge until she noticed a long piece of sharpened metal lying near the edge of the streetlight’s glow.
She carefully picked it up and tested its weight in her hands.
It wasn’t a proper spear, but it was close enough.
Spears and bows had always been the weapons she was most comfortable using.
Iris looked back toward the imitation and forced a gentle smile onto her face.
“Mom… can you tell me you love me?” she asked quietly.
“I just want to hear you say it.”
The creature’s expression softened immediately.
“I love you, honey.” Sarah opened her arms wide, smiling brightly.
“Now please step out of the light for Mom.”
Iris smiled back.
“Of course, Mother.”
She moved before the creature could react.
The sharpened metal drove straight through its chest.
Iris shoved the weapon deeper before tearing it free.
“You horrible child!” the creature shrieked.
“Where were you when I was being ripped apart?! It hurt, Iris! It hurt so much! Where were you?!”
Iris’s eye twitched.
She drove the pole through its eye.
“I’m going to find my real mother,” Iris said, twisting the weapon as the creature screamed beneath her.
“And when I do, I’ll hear those words from her myself. I’ll listen to her tell me she loves me again.”
She ripped the pole free as half of its body crossed into the streetlight.
The reaction was immediate.
Smoke erupted from its skin as the creature began to burn, its stolen face melting away beneath the light.
It screamed and clawed desperately at the crimson ground, but Iris only watched as its body blackened and collapsed.
A small smile crossed her face.
“I’ll survive this entire damn place.”
The creature’s screams slowly faded.
“Just you wait.”
Iris moved quickly.
She crouched beside the corpse, dipped a finger into the black blood spilling from its wounds, and began drawing a magic circle across her palm.
Using her own blood as a conduit in a place this saturated with Miasma would be far too dangerous, but the monster’s blood had already been spilled.
There was no reason to waste it.
“Ignis-Lumen-Du.”
A Roman numeral II appeared across her palm as flames gathered above it, slowly condensing into a small glowing orb.
Unlike Ember Wing or Cinder Bomb, this spell wasn’t meant for combat.
The flame remained steady above her hand, casting enough light to push back the darkness surrounding her.
Iris tightened her grip around the sharpened metal pole with her other hand.
“Thirty minutes before I have to cast it again,” she muttered.
“So either I find Mom before then or find another monster whose blood I can use…” She paused.
“Or find a human corpse if I get desperate enough.”
She didn’t particularly like the third option.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the kind of place where she could afford to be picky.
Iris stepped beyond the streetlight.
The flame immediately became the only thing separating her from complete darkness.
She moved carefully along the crimson bridge, spear raised as the glowing orb illuminated only a short distance ahead.
Black water flowed far beneath her, while towers, bridges, stairways, and impossible pathways stretched through the darkness in every direction.
No matter how far she walked, the scenery barely seemed to change.
It felt as though she could continue for hours and never make any real progress.
Iris swallowed.
“Hey, imaginary friend…” Her voice was quieter than usual.
“I really don’t want to die again.”
Her grip around the spear tightened.
“I remember some of the things that live in this place. If one of them gets me, it probably won’t be quick.” Iris stared into the darkness ahead of her.
“And I don’t want Mom to experience any of that either.”
The image returned before she could stop it.
Her mother’s corpse.
Black water covering her body.
Flesh torn away.
That horrible stillness Iris had found when she finally returned home.
Her eyes began to sting.
“Even if the monsters didn’t kill her… she drowned.” Iris wiped at her face with her sleeve while continuing forward.
“That couldn’t have been painless.”
Her voice cracked slightly.
“I should’ve been there.”
The flame trembled above her palm.
“I left her alone because I was angry over some stupid argument, and when I finally came back…” Iris stopped herself before finishing the thought.
A few tears rolled down her cheeks.
She kept walking.
“I don’t want her to die alone again.”
Iris raised the flaming orb slightly higher, forcing herself to look forward instead of back.
“So I’m finding her.”
The darkness stretched endlessly ahead.
“No matter what this place puts in my way.”
For a while, only the sound of Iris’s footsteps accompanied her.
“I can’t hear you… because you don’t exist,” she muttered eventually, keeping the small flame raised in front of her.
“But at least listen to me anyway. I really don’t want to be alone right now, even if I technically am.” She sighed, tightening her grip around the metal spear.
“I’ve survived multiple Devil’s Footprints before. Unlucky enough to get dragged into more than anyone reasonably should. But this one…” Iris glanced toward the endless black water beneath the crimson bridges.
“This one always scared me the most.”
Something shifted above her.
Iris looked up.
A shape hung from the remains of a broken streetlight, barely visible beyond the reach of her flame. The source of this chapter is g.com.
It remained there for another moment before suddenly falling.
Iris screamed and stumbled backward.
The body slammed against the bridge in front of her.
“Holy shit!”
It was a corpse.
Both eyes had been torn from their sockets, and its stomach had been ripped open, leaving blood spread across the crimson ground.
Iris swallowed down the nausea and carefully examined its face.
Thankfully, it wasn’t anyone she recognized.
Then she heard footsteps.
Iris immediately raised her spear.
A familiar figure slowly emerged from the darkness, barely illuminated by the flame in her hand.
“Iris?” Wallace called.
“Thank God. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Iris stared at him.
“Hey, Wallace.”
He stopped.
“What?”
Iris crouched beside the corpse and dipped two fingers into its blood.
“What’s my boyfriend’s name?”
Wallace blinked.
“Charles Wells. Why?”
Iris’s expression went cold.
“Wrong answer.”
Wallace’s smile disappeared.
“The real Wallace wouldn’t know that.” Iris quickly began drawing a magic circle across her palm with the corpse’s blood.
“I haven’t even met Charles yet. And about a week ago, Wallace killed Charles’s parents. Even if he somehow knew I knew who Charles was, he’s definitely not the kind of person who’d casually talk about him with me.”
The false Wallace stared at her.
Its face twitched.
“Ignis-Sagita-Du.”
A Roman numeral II appeared across Iris’s hand as fire gathered around her fingertips.
“Fire Arrow.”
The spell shot forward and tore through Wallace’s shoulder, blasting one of his arms completely off.
The creature screamed.
Iris immediately turned and ran.
She had no interest in wasting time killing it.
“So many damn Remnants,” Iris muttered as she sprinted across the crimson bridge.
“They’re the weakest monsters in this hell, but that doesn’t make them any less annoying.”
Behind her, the fake Wallace gave chase, its footsteps rapidly closing the distance.
Iris glanced over her shoulder.
“Persistent bastard.”
She turned forward—
And slammed directly into someone.
Iris bounced backward and nearly lost control of the flame.
“Watch where you’re—”
She stopped.
Black priestly robes.
Messy orange hair.
One glowing pink eye.
That same infuriating smile.
Michello looked down at her pleasantly.
“Blessed night, Oracle.”
Iris’s eye twitched.
Michello chuckled.
“It appears your prediction was slightly inaccurate.”
For several seconds, Iris simply stared at him.
The Remnants could steal appearances.
They could steal voices.
They could pull information from the memories of the people they planned to hunt.
So Iris searched desperately for something wrong.
Some mistake.
Some detail the creature had missed.
Anything that would prove this was another fake.
Michello smiled wider.
Iris stared at him for another moment.
Then sighed.
“Fuck.”
She lowered her spear slightly.
“This one’s real.”