Deep Sea Embers
chapter-744

The second glowing object to fall into the Boundless Sea held within its heart something known as a “Lost Star,” echoing the essence of the initial fragment that had made its descent earlier. This time, however, the core of the Lost Star was not a solid celestial body but a compressed gas planet, distinct from the moonlike core of the first.

Scholars, delving into the mysteries of this new celestial object, confirmed that the diameter of this compressed gas planet was precisely ten meters, mirroring the dimensions of the moon core housed within the first object that had plummeted from the heavens.

For Duncan, though, there was a more pressing enigma: the planet was unrecognizable to him. He was absolutely sure it wasn’t a member of his known solar system, like the gas giants Saturn or Jupiter. Its appearance was utterly alien—adorned in hues of silver, gray, and blue, and marked by several unique storm vortices swirling across its surface, it presented a spectacle both strange and unfamiliar.

Standing in close proximity to this compressed gas giant, Duncan scrutinized its cloud belts and vortex patterns with intense focus, his mind awash with contemplation. The discovery of his homeland’s moon in the core of the first celestial object had led him to expect another familiar body from their solar system to emerge. However, the reality before him suggested a much broader universe of possibilities—these “Lost Stars,” now encircling the sun in rune rings, hailed from the farthest reaches of the cosmos, perhaps even from disparate universes.

These celestial bodies, hailing from various realms and compressed into a singular form, encased the sun in a halo, ensuring the stability of what was referred to as the observer effect anchor. At the heart of this configuration was the “sun,” envisioned as an eyeball within a crystalline sphere, symbolizing the gaze of the observer. This intricate arrangement was designed to merge the remnants of incompatible worlds, post the cataclysm known as the Great Annihilation, into a unified reality. This, Duncan realized, was the fundamental principle of Vision 001.

After a period of deep reflection, Duncan reluctantly acknowledged the futility of his musings on the workings of Vision 001. This ancient observational device was nearing the end of its functional life, with its impending collapse a certainty. Even if he were to adopt the “continuation plan” proposed by Navigator One, replacing Vision 001 with his own essence to initiate an “Era of Flame” following the “Deep Sea Era,” the disintegration of the observer effect anchor was unavoidable.

However, the underlying mechanism of Vision 001 sparked a glimmer of inspiration within him. Having decided against Navigator One’s plan, Duncan realized he needed to forge a new path to sustain the civilization of the Deep Sea Era.

Standing on the sandy shores, Tyrian and Aiden cast uneasy and puzzled glances towards Duncan. The air around them was thick with their uncertainty—they were at a loss about what the seasoned captain was up to and were hesitant to just barge in. Nevertheless, it was evident they were keenly observing Duncan, whose face was a canvas of deep thought and sudden insights.

Aiden scanned the vicinity to ensure privacy before leaning towards Tyrian, his voice barely above a whisper, “Any clue what the old captain’s diving into?”

Clueless, Tyrian responded in a hushed tone, “Not the slightest. Lucy’s research is a puzzle to me, and Dad’s been more cryptic lately. Could he be interacting with that mysterious object?”

Mulling it over, Aiden nodded in agreement, “Seems likely.”

Unbeknownst to them, Duncan had caught their soft exchange but chose to remain focused on his thoughts. After a brief pause, he mentally called out, “Alice.”

The response from Miss Doll was almost instant, filled with curiosity, “Yes, Captain?”

“I need you here. Ai’s on her way to get you,” he conveyed mentally.

After a slight pause, Alice replied, “Oh, hold on, my potato cakes are nearly done. Should I bring some to you?”

Duncan responded, his mind elsewhere, “…No, that won’t be necessary. Join me once you’re finished.”

He waited patiently. Moments later, a ghostly green flame erupted beside him, morphing into a door through which a skeletal bird soared out, followed by Alice’s figure.

Holding a paper bag filled with steamy potato cakes, Alice’s face lit up upon seeing Duncan as she eagerly presented the snack, “Captain, potato cakes! Just for you!”

Facing her, Duncan wore an inscrutable look beneath his bandaged visage, his eyes betraying a sense of resignation.

Realizing her oversight, Alice quickly corrected herself, “…Oh, right, your condition doesn’t really call for food, does it?”

“I might partake in tea occasionally, but eating isn’t necessary for me,” Duncan replied with a calm yet appreciative tone, accepting the paper bag nonetheless, “But, thank you.”

Alice’s smile returned, brighter than before. Then, noticing Tyrian and Aiden’s curious gazes from a distance, she waved at them energetically, “Oh, you’re here too!”

With a moment’s hesitation, Tyrian and Aiden approached, their expressions a mix of curiosity and discomfort. The sight of the doll, bearing an uncanny resemblance to the Frost Queen, never failed to stir a peculiar sense of discord within them, especially when she spoke, forever reminding them of the surreal nature of their reality.

Alice, seemingly unaware of the slight awkwardness in Tyrian and Aiden’s reactions, was bubbling with enthusiasm as she offered the potato cakes infused with the exotic flavors of Wind Harbor. “Do you want some? They’re hot off the grill, spiced with a blend that’s a specialty of Wind Harbor! Luni said it’s quite a surprise for folks not from around there. The flavor might be a bit unusual, but it’s an interesting experience!”

At this point, Duncan picked up on something he hadn’t noticed before, his curiosity piqued by the mention of Wind Harbor’s spices. “Hold on, did you say… Wind Harbor’s specialty spices?”

Alice, excited to share, nodded eagerly. “Yes! Luni got them during our last visit to the city-state. She thought it would be a real treat for northerners. It’s a bit of an acquired taste but really adds something special to the food…”

Now Duncan understood the source of the peculiar aroma wafting from the paper bag.

Turning to Tyrian with a slight air of mischief, he suggested, “Try one.”

Unaware of what was in store for him, and having little experience with the culinary wonders of Wind Harbor, Tyrian accepted the offer with a simple, unsuspecting pleasure. He reached into the bag, fetched a potato cake, and bit into it eagerly…

The reaction was immediate and extreme.

Duncan observed Tyrian’s response with a mix of amusement and confirmation, “It looks like the spices are indeed quite potent. He might need a moment to adjust,” he remarked to Alice, then shifted the focus to the enigmatic “compressed planet” hovering above the shoreline. “Let’s examine this first.”

Alice, momentarily distracted by Tyrian’s sudden emotional response, nodded in agreement, her attention now captured by the “Lost Star” and its mesmerizing hum.

She was well aware of its significance, having been briefed about Duncan’s investigation into “Object Number Two.” The sphere before them, the heart of Object Number Two, held an allure all its own.

“What does it ‘say’?” Duncan inquired, his curiosity piqued.

Though Duncan could share Alice’s unique vision, allowing him to see the “lines” or data streams from Vision 001, he lacked her instinctive understanding of these messages—a talent unique to Navigator Three.

Now, he eagerly awaited Alice’s interpretation of the cryptic signals emitted by “Object Number Two.”

Alice concentrated, her expression turning thoughtful as she deciphered the chaotic stream of data. “There’s a lot… Lots of error messages, communication breakdowns, protocol discrepancies, and issues with reconstructing its operational framework. It’s quite disordered, even more so than the last errors I encountered…”

Duncan, seeking clarity, asked, “Is there anything like a system restart countdown, perhaps?”

“No,” Alice replied, shaking her head with a mix of confusion and concern. “Just a series of malfunctions and scrambled data, some of it beyond my comprehension.”

Duncan listened quietly, his response a soft sigh and a slight nod, acknowledging the grim but not unexpected news.

Aiden, who had been observing the unfolding events with wide-eyed amazement, suddenly snapped to attention, nudging Tyrian’s arm with a mix of excitement and disbelief. “Forget everything else for a moment, but Miss Alice can actually communicate with this thing!”

This exclamation seemed to pull Tyrian back from the edge of a sensory overload. His body jerked as if he were trying to shake off the effects of a vivid, unsettling dream. He doubled over, coughing and gagging as if his body was rejecting the intense flavors he had just experienced.

Aiden, the bald and muscular figure, quickly stepped in, offering support by holding Tyrian steady and patting his back with a mix of concern and confusion. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

It took a moment for Tyrian to regain his composure, his senses still reeling from the fiery spiciness and the unexpected sour undertone of the potato cake. It felt like his taste buds had been on a roller coaster ride of sensations. As he lifted his head, trying to clear the dizzying array of flavors, he thought he saw a myriad of phantoms swirling around him, and among those fleeting images, he caught a glimpse of his father’s smile.

Gathering himself, Tyrian managed to speak, his voice still laced with disbelief. “That… was an intense experience… ugh,” he said, eyeing the half-eaten potato cake with a mix of curiosity and wariness. “What in the world goes into making these?”

With a hint of a smirk, Duncan responded, “The secret’s in the spices from Wind Harbor. They can really make you respect the power of food.” He paused, reflecting on their time spent in the southern regions. “Of all the things in Wind Harbor, it’s the food I remember most. It leaves a lasting impression.”

Tyrian, now somewhat recovered, looked at the paper bag in Duncan’s hand, his recent ordeal giving him a newfound understanding of what it means to have a profound respect for food—a respect that was edging close to actual fear.

Just then, the conversation was abruptly interrupted by a whistling sound carried on the wind, drawing everyone’s attention. Duncan turned towards the source of the sound, and in the soft golden glow that bathed the harbor, a whirlwind carrying grey-white dust danced across the sky. It circled above the beach momentarily before making a beeline towards them.

As the swirling grey wind began to coalesce, a figure emerged from within it—Agatha, clad in a black priestess robe, her demeanor composed and mysterious, stepped out from the dissipating whirlwind.