Deep Sea Embers
chapter-556

“Before we jump to any conclusions or carry out any potentially damaging experiments on this mysterious material, let’s not forget that it has a living heartbeat within it,” Ted Lir said, closing the thick book he had been referencing. He carefully tucked away the specialized stethoscope that had extended from the tome’s pages. His face, usually worn from long hours and relentless challenges, now displayed an intricate mix of emotions: curiosity, disbelief, and perhaps a tinge of concern.

“To be completely honest, I have never come across anything as perplexing as this entity,” he continued. “In my career, I’ve encountered numerous unexplainable beings that have made their way into our world. However, a metallic mass possessing a heartbeat is extraordinary even by those standards. What’s even more remarkable is its silence, its lack of activity.”

“Silence?” Lucretia questioned, her brow furrowing at the notion.

“Exactly, it’s remarkably quiet, almost as if it’s benign,” Ted nodded in affirmation. “You can observe for yourself that its outer shell has almost fully solidified. The team that first discovered it noted that it was momentarily active upon its initial arrival in our reality. Yet, it promptly transitioned into this dormant, solid state. Furthermore, it hasn’t displayed any of the typical behaviors we associate with living anomalies—like trying to breach containment, harming the guards, or resisting investigative measures.”

He shook his head slowly, puzzled. “In the world of living anomalies, this is highly uncharacteristic. One common feature among such entities is their persistent attempts to escape, which this one clearly lacks.”

Lucretia paused to absorb Ted’s words, and next to her, Nina seemed lost in thought. Noticing Nina’s contemplative expression, she suddenly spoke up, “It almost seems like it has lost the will to live, doesn’t it?”

“That’s an intriguing notion,” Ted said, looking directly at Nina. “However, it’s unlikely that this animate hunk of metal would possess such a distinctly human emotional response. My theory leans more towards the idea that it’s struggling to adapt to our world. Over time, it might slowly become acclimated and then possibly display more typical behaviors.”

Breaking the contemplative silence, Duncan focused his attention on Nina and Shirley. “Can you both share what happened at the marketplace? Nina, when you reached out to me, you said you and Shirley felt as though someone—or something—was watching you. Right before you were about to alert a nearby guard, this entity made its appearance?”

“Yes, that’s accurate,” Nina replied, reliving the unsettling episode in her mind. “Both Shirley and I felt an intermittent gaze on us, and we sensed a growing aura inching closer. I’m fairly certain that it was this entity. It only revealed itself and lunged at us when we decided to seek out someone to report our unease to, and then…” She let her voice trail off, leaving the room steeped in an atmosphere of mounting questions and unspoken theories.

Nina suddenly went silent, her face revealing extreme hesitance. After wrestling with her thoughts for several tense seconds, she finally chose to speak, although her brow was furrowed with uncertainty. “There’s another aspect that doesn’t seem to align with everything we know so far. I can’t be certain if it was a trick of my perception or something else, but when I initially caught a glimpse of this entity out of the corner of my eye, for a split second, I thought it was a human being.”

The room seemed to grow heavier with Nina’s words, the atmosphere dense with a newfound tension. Even Ted Lir, who was typically weary and detached, appeared to be jolted to attention, his eyes snapping wide open. Before he could react, Shirley, who was standing closest to Nina, burst out incredulously, “What did you just say? You thought it looked like a person? Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“None of this was indicated in the field team’s report,” Ted Lir interjected, his expression turning notably stern. “Miss Nina, are you absolutely certain about this?”

“That’s why I was hesitant to say it,” Nina responded, her voice tinged with nervousness. “The marketplace was chaotic, buzzing with people scurrying in every direction. I could easily have been mistaken… Or perhaps the guards missed this detail? After all, it was just my first impression…”

Ted Lir shook his head. “That’s highly improbable. Our guards are trained to adhere to strict ‘contact process recording standards.’ Given that many anomalies possess the capability to rapidly alter their appearance or escape cognitive recognition, we mandate that personnel involved in first contact rigorously document ‘the exact moment of initial contact’ and any subsequent shifts in attention to eliminate the possibility of an ‘observation gap.'”

He paused to elaborate briefly on the standard operating procedures of the “Truth Keeper,” then continued, “According to the field team’s account, the moment this entity entered our realm, at least two guards were already monitoring the location where it materialized. Throughout the event, there was continuous observation, thereby ruling out any chance of an ‘observation gap.'”

As Ted Lir concluded his explanation, Duncan, who had been silently listening from the sidelines, finally broke the prevailing silence. “But I believe what Nina is saying makes sense.”

Ted Lir looked genuinely surprised. “You’re suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting that from Nina’s point of view, this anomaly momentarily appeared human when it first materialized,” Duncan calmly clarified. He then turned to Shirley. “You were with Nina the entire time; did you observe anything resembling a human form?”

Shirley promptly shook her head. “No, I never saw it take on any form that would make me think it was a person.”

“Could it be that different observers perceive different forms of the same target?” Ted Lir’s facial expression transformed into one of both astonishment and deep contemplation. “And, for some reason, only Miss Nina witnessed something divergent from everyone else… What could possibly explain that?”

An intense curiosity flashed across Ted Lir’s face, settling his gaze squarely on Duncan. “Is there something exceptional about Miss Nina?”

It was a challenging question for the “Truth Keeper,” who, without the assistance of any spiritual or extra-sensory capabilities, had always seen Nina as an utterly ordinary seventeen-year-old girl. And yet, the fact that she was even present on Duncan Abnomar’s ship indicated that she must possess some extraordinary attribute.

“Are you familiar with the ‘Black Sun incident’ in Pland?” Duncan asked, cutting to the chase. “If so, you’ll know that when the ‘Vanished’ departed the city, they took with them a fragment of the Ancient Sun. She,” he pointed at Nina, “is that fragment.”

Ignoring the spark of fascination that ignited on Ted Lir’s face, Duncan turned his attention back to Nina. “Can you recall what that ‘person’ you initially saw looked like?”

Nina furrowed her brows, delving deep into her memory. After a moment of internal searching, she began, “I got the impression of someone clad in strange, archaic armor—like something you’d read about in history books or see in a museum. Like a walking tin can, sort of. And there seemed to be a frayed scarf or maybe a short cape of some sort. My glimpse was so brief, it’s hard to pin down specifics.”

She hesitated briefly before continuing, “The armor looked cumbersome and impenetrable, so I couldn’t make out whether the person inside was male or female. But the armor itself felt battle-worn, as though it had survived numerous conflicts.”

“Ancient warrior armor,” Lucretia mumbled, absorbing this new information. Her mind raced, and she quickly interjected, “So how did this ‘ancient warrior’ metamorphose into a living lump of metal? Did you witness the transformation?”

“No,” Nina shook her head, “It seemed to happen in a split second. There wasn’t any gradual change, at least not that I could notice. I might have blinked or something—I really can’t remember with absolute clarity.”

“Don’t worry, the information you’ve given is already invaluable,” Duncan reassured Nina, noticing her slightly disheartened demeanor. He then turned and walked towards the platform where the mysterious sample—now a solid mass of “living metal”—lay.

Standing before it, Duncan adopted a serious expression as he mentally sorted through all the data they had gathered thus far.

So, upon its initial appearance, it seemed to Nina to be a warrior encased in ancient, battle-scarred armor.

Nina had also described feeling watched and even pursued multiple times, suggesting that this enigmatic entity might have specifically targeted her—or perhaps the fragment of the “Ancient Sun” she carried within her.

The university marketplace had been a hive of activity, swarming with people engaged in their own world, seemingly oblivious to the sense of surveillance that Nina had felt. This led Duncan to consider two possibilities: either the entity possessed some ability to interfere with human cognition, thereby going unnoticed, or it had infiltrated from a different, possibly metaphysical, plane of existence—perhaps something akin to the spirit world—into their reality.

Duncan slowly stretched out his hand to make contact with the mysterious mass of solidified metal.

The sensation was chillingly hard, almost like touching a block of ice, and it seemed to resonate through his fingertips, up his arm, into the depths of his being. He sensed a heartbeat—a slow, rhythmic pulsing from deep within the entity.

It was an enigma, its form of life utterly foreign to human understanding.

He felt as though this entity had a purpose, an intent that got lost or confused in its final stages of execution. When it revealed itself, making its presence known to Nina and Shirley, it likely had no intention of becoming this immobile, solidified form.

As Duncan interacted with the mass, Ted Lir observed him with a mixture of curiosity and nervous anticipation. His eyes involuntarily darted to Lucretia, the “witch” standing off to the side.

With a subtle shake of her head, she signaled him not to interfere.

Green sparks materialized at Duncan’s fingertips. Gingerly, he manipulated this fragile flame, exceedingly careful not to trigger any unexpected reactions within the enigmatic entity before him. He let the flame delve deep into the mass, attempting to connect with its life force, its heartbeat, and if possible, its thoughts or intent.

The return signal, however, was clouded in an immense sense of emptiness and confusion. No discernable information emerged from the depths of this metallic life form.

Still, Duncan felt that within that emptiness and foggy “awareness,” there was something elusive, something profound he couldn’t grasp—not because it wasn’t there, but because he simply lacked the capability to understand it at this moment.

Unconsciously, a question formed in his mind, a silent query directed toward the enigmatic being. “Who are you?” he pondered, “Where did you come from?”

After what seemed an endless moment of vacuum-like emptiness, a tiny disturbance materialized in the feedback he was receiving through the flame—a minor but perceptible ripple in the vast sea of nothingness.

And then, Duncan sensed a voice, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say a “thought,” emerging within the labyrinth of his own mind:

“We are marching towards the apocalypse.”