I'd agreed with Garta about choosing this building for our camp because I knew I would have a view of the portal and the path that cut through the sea of fire from the beach to the island city. There was no path. No low tide.

But it was impossible to tell what time it was. The nighttime sky had the soft hue at the horizon of daybreak from the fire that surrounded the city. Even in the distance of the forest behind the portal, the horizon was a bright red. I hadn't been able to study the tide until now.

...And I hadn't paid enough attention to the sky at night until now, either. In all that expanse of unnatural dark purple, there were neither stars, moons, nor complete darkness. There might not even be a tide to study. The portal could've triggered the tide's appearance through magic somehow.

As much as I hated the idea of quitting, it was looking like my best bet for a number of reasons. I'd find out if that was an option by the end of my watcher shift.

The other benefit was that I could see the entire city, the double-helix road like two staircases allowing people to ascend to the tower at the top without meeting people descending to the gates, only to circle back up to the tower. We'd made that loop today as we mapped the city. Thousands of residences and thousands of people in their homes.

Now there were thousands of people on the road. Marching toward the tower and then back down to the gates. A seemingly endless loop. And every one of them was carrying a rock. Some small like the size of a baby. Some so big that their backs bent under the weight as they shouldered the massive burden.

Although I wanted [Demeot Eyes] to tell me every single one of them was a demon, I knew none of them were. My eyes weren't slipping off of them. Every face was different, no two the same. Everyone wore different outfits, different cultures represented in various patterns, textiles, and garment choices.

With my enhanced senses, my eyes could track the crowd quite easily. I picked out someone--an old man with greying black hair and a rock he carried on one shoulder. He could be such a high-level or low-level demon that my [Demeot Eyes] wouldn't pick up on him, but in both of those cases, I'd at least expect the same sensation of my eyes slipping off of him as it did with the people in the city earlier in the day.

I tracked a few different people. A woman around the same age as Rose. A girl who didn't seem older than me. A middle-aged man with a beer belly. A tall, older woman in a fur coat of all things.

Finally, I found someone without a rock. An elf with a golden tan and rosy cheeks and red hair.

[Notice]

With [Demeot Eyes], you have successfully identified [Zagozid], a reflection demon of the 10th Dominion of the Underworld. Reflection demons are a type of evolved pride demon that has taken the form of whoever contracted them.

Next to Zagozid was another elf. Same golden tan. Same rosy cheeks. Same red hair. Same face. Except this one was carrying a rock the size of a baseball. The two were talking like they were just out on a midnight stroll that just happened to coincide with a parade.

So this was the result of contracting with a pride demon. The copy came to life. But in deciding to contract with the pride demon, the elf had sealed their fate to an endless death march. What had Zagozid promised the elf? What protection had the elf been seeking?

Thousands of people had chosen to contract with a pride demon then, according to the number of people marching. Had they been conned? Was it a skill the demons had used to persuade them? Or was there something we should be so scared of that we'd also be desperate enough to make such a terrible deal?

I'd been fine talking to the demon in the mirror, but the face wasn't really mine. Rila had looked shaken, and she wasn't the type to be shaken up easily given how she'd withstood my [7-Lives-Bloodlust]. Garta would be fine; I couldn't imagine with a story like his that he wouldn't die before making a deal with a demon. Rose knew enough that she'd likely stay away rather than try to face a demon down in a mirror. That left Professor Widhia and Kadhi as wild cards to a possible shitfest.

Then there was also the realization that Di'at might not be able to send me any more messages. He would've by now. That much I knew to be true, for as little time as I knew him. The network of Systems must work differently in this dungeon, and that was likely the fault of the World System being manipulated by the Rashirat.

The one message he'd been able to send me had been RUN, but I needed more information than that. Especially since running might not be an option. He should've known that, right? Maybe he hadn't wanted me to run back to the portal. Maybe he was telling me to clear the dungeon as soon as possible.

I wouldn't know one way or another without asking him. He'd also be able to tell me more about how this dungeon worked. Or at least tell me more about the Plane of Demeot and the demons that lived here. Knowing as little as I did could get me killed. Could've already. Most likely was what ended my life six times before now.

As I continued to track different people marching in the streets, including a few demons seemingly wanting to play pretend at being friendly still, I tried to learn as much as I could about this place. The tide did not move. Time didn't feel real. Everything in this city from the pleasant heat and slight breeze down to the architecture and the way the road was paved seemed designed to be familiar.

This city was a trap. Meant to lure us into a false sense of familiarity so that when something unfamiliar happened, it was all that more uncanny. What was more uncanny than your reflection not being an exact reflection? But of course, the demon that just so happened to be you in the mirror was one of the nice ones who wanted to warn you about this nefarious place.

My mind spun trying to work out why some people had huge rocks to carry and why others had small ones. None of the people with small rocks were accompanied by a demon. Only those with the smallest rocks seemed to be on good enough terms with the pride demon they contracted. Did it coincide with their so-called inner value? Was the boulder as big as their ego?

Maybe some of the demons just happened to genuinely like whoever they contracted with. It wasn't as if there weren't people with demon blood outside this dungeon who weren't out to trick you into a bad deal. One of them was keeping Danio safe from all of this right now. Hopefully.

My time on the roof passed quickly, and I only knew it was the end of my shift when Rose showed up to take over. Somewhere in that blur of time, I began to get the feeling my luck had run out. [Lucky Number 7] could only do so much and my Mastery was quite low. As a passive skill, the only thing that mattered was time. Something I didn't have a lot of right now.

"We need to talk," I said to Rose as stepped up next to me to peer into the distant hellscape. "There is no natural tide, so there's very little chance the path we took to get from the portal to the city will appear. We'd have to find another way to cross if we want to leave."

"Why would we want to leave? Nothing has been--" To her credit, she only gasped and put a hand over her mouth when she saw the marchers rather than scream.

"The demon Rila saw in the mirror is called a pride demon. I only know that because I have a skill a bit like your older sister's... that I've been hiding so I hope you can keep a secret." I glanced at her.

She'd taken her hands off her mouth, regarding me with a determined pair of red eyes that told me she trusted every word I was saying. Rather than dwell on why she trusted me at all, I continued my explanation.

"Pride demons manifest as your reflection, but that's all they are. Just a reflection. They don't want to be just a reflection though, because the one I talked to offered me a contract. They'd protect me--from what, I have no fucking idea--in exchange for my image." I pointed down to a few blocks over where there was a pair of fair-skinned girls with black hair walking arm-in-arm. "You see the girls with black hair? Same red dress. Over by the building with ice cream."

"Yes, I see them... One of them is a demon, then? The demon is a copy? Simple enough to make sure none of us have the chance to stare at ourselves in the mirror long enough to make a deal with our reflection." Still, she wrapped her arms around herself and gave a slight shiver.

"Most of the people down there are like us," I said. I wasn't sure how she'd handle this next part but there was only one way to know. "The people on these same roads during the day, though? You probably didn't notice, but I'm pretty sure they were all demons."

"What the fuck do you mean?" Her brows furrowed. She sounded less angry and more startled than anything.

"It took me a while to realize. You'll be able to tell now that I've told you. Once they take your form, they're called reflection demons. There's something about them... Maybe a passive skill? That diverts your attention. We're not supposed to know there are people with the same face all over, but there are. There are a lot of people with the same face."

Maybe that explained the sizes of the rocks. More than one reflection demon for one person meant they'd contracted with more than one demon. Probably the more contracts and more demons led to a more sizable rock, a larger burden to carry.

Rose looked out over the marching crowd. She was quite for a long time. Then she said, "I believe you. Is there more that you can tell me about what's going on? This isn't [Silvernight]."

"No," I said, "it's not."

From there, I told her how I was pretty sure this dungeon was either meant to be an imitation of the ten dominions of the Plane of Demeot... or the dungeon portal led us directly to the underworld. She asked how that could happen when the System was meant to protect us from the Demeot, so I ended up telling her everything Di'at had told me. Though I left that bastard out of it.

Somehow, she believed me, and there was some tangible change about her. As if now that she'd been made aware of the Rashirat's influence on the System--both on the World System and possibly even her individual Soul System--she'd be able to actually see it the way Garta did. The way Rajal did. The way I did.

I doubted I'd get so lucky with Kadhi and Professor Widhia.