The air in the bar was heavy with tension. The bartender, sobbing uncontrollably, had just revealed the terrible price he had paid to try to bring his mother back. But as his last words echoed in our minds, something darker began to stir in the shadows. A shift in the atmosphere. Something… someone was near.
Suddenly, the bar's lights flickered, and an icy wind swept through, knocking over tables and chairs and bringing with it an overwhelming sense of dread. The murmurs of the remaining patrons ceased immediately. The bartender froze, his already pale face growing even paler.
"What… what's happening?" Aria asked, her tone grave but completely devoid of fear.
Before I could answer, the response presented itself.
A female figure appeared in the doorway, shrouded in a dark mist that seemed to consume the very light around it. The silence was absolute. The figure moved to the center of the room, and the bartender let out a guttural scream upon seeing her, collapsing to his knees.
"Mother!" he cried, his voice filled with both terror and reverence.
"Strike me down… the witch really is his mother," I muttered, incredulous. Knowing it was one thing, but seeing it… seeing it was something else entirely.
Before us stood something that defied all logic. The female figure was more than a mere apparition—I could feel it more than see it. Behind her, I could sense the fragmented and twisted souls of the sacrificed girls, bound to her in a grotesque veil, as if some force compelled them to remain trapped in their corrupted forms.
For Aria, though, it had to be even worse. Her spiritual connection allowed her to feel every scream, every ounce of torment from those trapped souls.
"Aria, are you okay?" I asked, trying to pull her out of her trance.
She didn't respond. Her eyes were locked on the figure, and the intensity of her divine energy was beginning to fill the air. It was relentless, frenetic, like a predator finally facing its prey.
"You carry the pain of all of them within you…" Aria spat, her words dripping with hatred.
The woman, Lira, seemed unaffected. She smiled, almost maternally, as she extended her arms toward the bartender.
"My child, do not regret bringing me back. Together, we will avenge the injustices this town has inflicted upon us…" she said, completely ignoring the threat Aria represented.
"Excuse me, ma'am, but your son needs to go play with other kids, not with cursed rituals," I interrupted with sarcasm. I motioned for the bartender to leave the bar. Though he was still sobbing uncontrollably, he obeyed.
Lira turned to me then, her gaze piercing me like a cold knife.
"Oh, Ignis…" she whispered, her voice unsettlingly familiar. "I've been waiting for you."
"And why would that be?" I replied, masking my discomfort behind a facade of indifference.
Lira's smile widened, but there was no warmth in it.
"Because I wanted to see the Demon of Laplace in person."
Her words froze me in place. How did she know that name? A sudden dizziness washed over me, making it hard to stand.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, barely able to keep my voice steady.
"Enough talk!" Aria shouted, cutting in. Divine power condensed in her hands, forming into a bolt of energy that she hurled directly at Lira.
The witch raised a hand shrouded in shadows, and the bolt collided with a dark barrier, shattering with an earsplitting crash. The impact shook the bar, shattering the bottles on the shelves.
Lira laughed softly as her dark mist spread, trying to engulf everything in its path.
"Is that all you've got, little exorcist? How disappointing."
Aria gritted her teeth and unleashed another blast of energy, but this time, Lira moved faster. With a sharp motion, a solid shadow rose from the floor, striking Aria and throwing her against a wall with enough force to splinter the wood.
"Aria!" I rushed toward her, but another shadow ensnared my leg, wrapping around me like a frozen chain.
"What's the matter, Ignis? Don't you want to show me your true power?" Lira taunted, approaching slowly as the darkness swirled around her.
"You have no idea who you're dealing with, Lira…" I murmured, trying to suppress the fury boiling within me.
But she didn't give me a chance. Before I could react, a surge of dark energy struck me square in the chest, knocking the wind out of me. I collapsed to the floor, my body feeling as heavy as lead.
"This isn't fun if you're not fighting seriously…" Lira turned her attention back to Aria, who was barely standing, her divine energy flickering weakly.
"I'm not finished yet…" Aria said in a strained voice, summoning the last of her strength to launch another attack.
The impact was tremendous, but Lira absorbed it as if it were nothing. With a wave of her hand, Aria was thrown back to the ground, immobilized by the encroaching shadows.
"This is what happens when mortals face what they cannot comprehend," Lira said coldly, her voice triumphant. She turned to me once more. "But you… you're different."
I shuddered. I knew I could fight her, that I could defeat her if I used everything I had. But doing so would mean revealing what I truly was, and I wasn't ready for Aria—or anyone—to know.
"It doesn't matter," Lira said, stepping back and spreading her arms. "This isn't over. I'll return, and by then, Ignis, you'll be ready to show me your true nature."
With those words, the dark mist dissipated, taking Lira with it. The bar's lights stopped flickering, and the oppressive silence returned, heavy and suffocating.
I dragged myself to Aria and helped her to her feet.
"What… what the hell was that?" she murmured, barely conscious.
"Something we can't face yet," I replied, hiding the tremor in my voice.
We had survived, but it was clear this wasn't a victory. Lira had spared us—for now. She had spared me—to see Laplace, to unleash it