Deep Sea Embers
chapter-728

Duncan was confident in his memory—he distinctly remembered the appearance of the stone that Dog had thrown earlier. Now, he was certain that the stone in Alice’s hand was the same.

Dog, taken aback by this revelation, stared in disbelief at the stone nestled in the doll’s grasp. His voice tinged with astonishment, he blurted out, “What are the odds? It just landed in your hands!?”

Alice was quick to correct him, shaking her head vigorously as she did so. Her face was an open book of sincerity as she explained, “No, it wasn’t like that. I actually went and picked it up myself.”

Shirley, hearing this, looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Her eyes were locked onto the doll, wide with shock and confusion. “You went and picked it up?” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn’t hide her bafflement as she continued, “But how? Based on what Dog said, shouldn’t that stone have been lost forever in some random corner of the abyss?”

Alice hesitated momentarily as if trying to find the right words to describe an experience she couldn’t fully understand herself. She used her hands to emphasize her point, saying, “Remember how we were speculating about where things might end up if they fell from here? Well, I got curious about the stone and somehow, I just found it and picked it up… just like that.”

As she spoke, Alice casually mimed the action of plucking something from the air, making it seem as effortless and natural as breathing. Her explanation was so simple yet so baffling that not only Shirley but even Dog were left scratching their heads in confusion.

But Duncan, who had been quietly observing from a distance, suddenly had a moment of clarity. His brow furrowed as he connected the dots.

He remembered their journey through the stagnant expanse of the starry sky, recalling instances of Alice’s unusual behavior, and a crucial piece of information clicked into place: LH-03, the navigation mainframe!

With a newfound understanding dawning on his face, Duncan quickly picked up another pebble. He showed it to Alice before hurling it into the dark void beyond their floating island.

Just like before, the pebble vanished a few meters out, swallowed by the darkness.

Duncan then turned to Alice, his gaze intent. “Do you know where it landed? Can you bring it back?”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Alice triumphantly raised her hand, revealing a small, jet-black stone. She beamed proudly, presenting it to him like a precious gift, “For you, stone!”

Despite his earlier suspicions, Duncan couldn’t help but feel a wave of astonishment wash over him. He watched, stunned, as the doll effortlessly produced the pebble. The entire process was a mystery—nobody, not even Duncan, saw how Alice managed to “retrieve” it.

It was as if the steps of “locating,” “navigating to,” and “retrieving” the stone had been compressed into a single, unobservable instant, leaving only the end result for them to witness.

Shirley, who had been standing nearby, couldn’t contain her amazement and blurted out, “Damn, that’s just insane…”

Seeing a shift in their captain’s demeanor, Dog turned its head, looking puzzled. “Do you understand how she did that?”

Duncan’s expression grew serious. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded slowly, his voice carrying a hint of gravity as he revealed, “… Alice might have another identity. She could be known as ‘LH-03’.”

Dog and Shirley, both utterly bewildered by the unfolding events, couldn’t help but voice their amazement simultaneously, their words echoing each other: “… Damn, that’s just outrageous…”

Duncan, however, seemed less inclined to linger on their astonishment. With a gesture of his hand, he suggested, “We can delve into this matter later. Perhaps we’ll gain more insights after we encounter the Nether Lord.” But his focus quickly shifted from the group’s bewilderment to the task at hand, turning to Alice with a practical inquiry, “Can you guide us to the ‘bottom’?”

Alice, in response, paused thoughtfully. She walked slowly to the very brink of their fragmented land, her gaze drifting into the immeasurable darkness below. The distant, star-like lights seemed to capture her attention as she stood there absorbed in deep contemplation.

After a considerable silence, she took a couple of steps back from the edge, pointing towards the immense void beyond their floating island. Her voice was cautious yet clear, “Out there, there are numerous lines and ‘paths’, some weaving their way ‘down below’. I believe we can follow these to descend… but I’m not sure how to bring you along with me.”

No sooner had she finished speaking than Duncan stepped closer, his curiosity piqued. “Let me have a look,” he said.

As he spoke, Duncan gently placed his hand on Alice’s shoulder. Simultaneously, a phantom-like, greenish flame sparked to life in the depths of Alice’s eyes.

Suddenly, a vast, intricate, almost intimidating network of structures unveiled itself before Duncan’s eyes.

He was seeing the world through the doll’s perspective, or at least a portion of it.

In this new vision, Duncan observed a myriad of fine, thread-like lines originating from the abyss’s depths, reaching up to connect with the stagnant, ancient starry sky above. He noted the myriad paths crisscrossing amongst the stars, some diving downwards, others fading into the deep sky. Beyond the dark void encircling their island, he could just make out shadowy, tube-like structures. These tubes twisted and turned, continuously altering their form, resembling a network of erratic “pathways” that were disorienting and impossible to fully grasp.

Duncan’s expression grew concerned. He could see this immense lattice of lines and passageways, but that was it—just “seeing”. He couldn’t discern any specific pattern or hope to trace the origin or destination of any path quickly. The chaotic web in the abyss appeared to him as an “encrypted data block” – incomprehensible and meaningless.

Yet, through the connection with the ethereal flame, he could vaguely sense Alice’s mental state—she wasn’t overwhelmed by the vast complexity of her vision.

To her, everything seemed orderly. The knotted paths in the starry sky and the labyrinthine network of lines in the dark void, which could drive the world’s most brilliant minds to the brink of madness, appeared manageable to her. It was as though she could effortlessly compute the beginning and end of any given path.

Even in that moment, she was continuously processing—engaged in a monumental task of computation, so profound and constant that it was beyond her own awareness, thundering away at the core of her consciousness.

As Duncan blinked and saw countless lines threading through the abyss, he noticed Alice turning her head slightly, a dazed expression on her face. She offered a soft, enigmatic smile, not uttering a word, yet her voice resonated directly in his mind.

The smooth, serene voice of a female, reminiscent of a system’s automated broadcast, filled the air. It resonated with clarity, detailing the intricate workings of the New Hope’s navigation database. “Welcome to the New Hope’s navigation database,” it began, its tone clinical yet comforting. “This database is a repository of the gravitational characteristics and calibration parameters of billions of stars. It possesses the capability to calculate in real-time the relative positional shifts of any celestial body in the vastness of deep space. This allows for the precise calibration of star charts… Our journey through the stars, propelling us towards our new home at the brink of light speed, is recorded here… We are destined to survive, to reconstruct the world of our cherished old days…”

As the voice continued, its clarity began to wane, gradually becoming laced with static. The words started to delay, their tones discordant and increasingly indistinct, until they faded away entirely, lost in an inaudible whisper.

Meanwhile, Alice remained fixated on the dark expanse beyond the floating island, her back to the others, evidently not the source of the mysterious voice.

Duncan, observing this, raised his hand, severing the link of the ethereal flame that connected him to Alice. As he did so, the overwhelming sight of the lines and tubular pathways that had filled his vision vanished instantly.

Turning around, Alice’s face lit up with a bright, cheerful smile. “Captain, you saw it, didn’t you? I was right, wasn’t I?” she asked eagerly.

“I did see it,” Duncan replied, taking a deep breath and fixing a serious gaze on the doll. “But it seems you’re the only one who can navigate us through what comes next,” he said, acknowledging her unique ability. “You lead us down.”

Alice paused for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. “But I don’t know how to bring people with me…” she admitted.

Duncan reassured her, “It’s okay, I understand. We’ll follow you. Just trust your instincts and proceed without doubt. Can you do that?”

Alice, feeling the gravity of the captain’s earnest and solemn expression, felt a surge of nervousness but ultimately nodded, her own expression mirroring his seriousness. “Yes, I can!”

With a slight nod, Duncan took a step back and extended his arms. A pale green flame began to rise from him, spiraling upwards before gradually reaching out towards Shirley, Dog, and Alice.

Drawing from his previous experience of merging with Ai, Duncan mentally prepared Shirley, “Relax, don’t be afraid,” he gently reminded her.

Shirley’s voice quickly responded from the side, a mix of bravado and nervousness evident. “I-I’m not afraid!” she declared. “It’s Dog that’s scared!”

Dog, its bones rattling slightly from its trembling, protested in a stiff tone, “Don’t talk nonsense, I-I’m relaxed. The captain knows what he’s doing!”

With a light-hearted shake of his head and a smile, Duncan looked toward Alice. “Let’s set off,” he said, signaling the beginning of their journey.

Alice nodded in agreement and, without a moment’s hesitation, began walking towards the vast void that lay beyond the floating island—

The green flame, blazing with determination, disappeared into the engulfing darkness.

Simultaneously, in a distant reality within the depths of the Holy Island, Lucretia and Morris stood guard near the ominous black door. They suddenly heard a strange, deep rumbling sound. It seemed to originate from within the door itself, vibrating through the mercury-like, slowly undulating surface of the pitch-black “door panel,” echoing in layers through the cavern.

For a brief moment, Morris thought he heard a string of indistinct words amidst the rumbling. He strained to listen, barely making out a few fragmented phrases: “LH-03… reconnecting…”

Suddenly jolted from his reverie, the old scholar turned towards his companion with a sense of urgency. “Did you hear someone talking?” he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern as he glanced at the “Sea Witch” standing beside him.

Lucretia quickly shook her head, her attention unwaveringly fixed on the ominous, constantly shifting black door before them. “No,” she replied promptly, her tone firm yet filled with a growing sense of apprehension. “But I feel… like something is about to emerge from there.”

At that very moment, Morris, who was also in their company, felt a chilling sensation. He could sense malevolent and crazed entities nearby. It seemed as though some chaotic and frenzied beings had at last discovered a breach into their reality and were now eagerly moving towards it.

Putting aside his own doubts for the moment, Morris focused his attention on the scene unfolding before them. From the writhing darkness of the door, a figure began to emerge—a twisted, grotesque demon from the depths of the abyss struggled forth, its form distorting as it stepped into their dimension.

Lucretia reacted instantly, her movements swift and decisive. She raised her “conductor’s baton,” which, in a flash of icy black light, transformed into a scythe, gleaming with a cold, deadly aura. Morris, meanwhile, was taken aback by the appearance of the demon.

This was his first encounter with a demon of this kind invading their reality, and its form was unlike anything he had seen before.

After a brief moment of shock, Morris exchanged a quick, understanding glance with Lucretia.

“…Why does this death crow have only one leg?” he questioned, his voice laced with both bewilderment and a hint of morbid curiosity.

Lucretia’s response was pragmatic, her focus solely on the threat before them. “I don’t know… Let’s kill it first,” she declared, her tone resolute.

“Agreed,” Morris concurred, readying himself for the impending confrontation.