Deep Sea Embers

The Bright Star skillfully navigated farther away from the shore, adjusting its course with a subtle turn. The ancient wheel mechanisms on its sides groaned quietly under the pressure as the ship gained momentum, swiftly slicing through the dense, ominous fog ahead. It sped up, disappearing from sight as it moved further away, eventually fading completely from Duncan’s view.

Duncan stayed behind on the Vanished, his gaze locked on the last spot where the Bright Star had been visible before it vanished into the thick fog. He continued to watch long after the ship was gone, his attention only shifting when he noticed a gothic-style doll in an elaborate deep purple dress standing beside him.

The doll, known as Alice, had also been staring off into the distance. Simultaneously with Duncan, she turned her focus elsewhere.

Just then, a plump white dove landed on Alice’s shoulder. The dove looked curiously at her with its small, round eyes, reminiscent of mung beans.

The atmosphere on the Vanished had become eerily quiet. The usual chatter and activity that animated the deck were absent. There were no playful arguments between Shirley and Nina, no Morris gazing out to sea lost in thought, no Vanna sitting on a barrel carving amulets, and no sightings of the mysterious Agatha. Only Duncan, the doll, and the dove remained.

After a lengthy silence, Alice murmured, “They’re all gone…”

It was unclear to Duncan whether this was an expression of sorrow from the doll or simply an observation.

Reflecting on the departure of the others, Alice had not questioned whether she should stay; she had remained as if it had always been her intention. Her acceptance of the situation intrigued Duncan.

“When everyone else left, you didn’t ask if you could stay,” Duncan noted, looking into the doll’s eyes, “You didn’t even seem to consider it, did you?”

Alice responded with a chuckle, her tone confident, “Of course I had to stay!”

Her response was direct, implying that the decision required no justification.

Duncan paused to consider her words, then laughed and gestured around them, “You see, it seems we’ve come full circle back to the beginning.”

Alice looked around, her realization quick, “Oh, it’s just you and me left on this ship… ah, and Ai, and Mr. Goathead.”

The dove then tilted its head and began to flap its wings vigorously, squawking in a sharp, discordant female voice, “Initializing settings, initializing settings!”

Duncan watched the dove intently, reminded of his homeland by the fact that this bird hailed as a relic from Earth, and replied softly, “…Yes, initializing settings. Time to proceed to the next operation.”

He then turned away and waved to Alice without looking back, “Off we go, Alice, it’s time to fulfill our promise to Gomona.”

“Ah, yes, captain!” Alice responded eagerly.

“Aye, aye, captain!” Ai cooed loudly with her wings flapping.

…

As they continued to sail away, the fog around them grew thicker, swirling like an intricate curtain that seemed to isolate them from the rest of the world. The silhouette of the ship’s stern gradually blurred until it completely disappeared into the expansive fog, signaling that the Bright Star had reached the perimeter of the island clusters and was about to vanish entirely from the temple island.

On the highest deck of the Bright Star, Lucretia and others stood, unwilling to break their stares from the encroaching mist until the last familiar contours of their surroundings had faded.

“At first, I thought I was cursed to be trapped on that ship for a lifetime,” Shirley confided quietly, visibly shaken by the memory. “But now, we are really leaving it…”

Near her, a clothesline stretched between a railing and a flagpole, from which a small doll named Nilu was hanging. The line ran through the sleeves of her garment, allowing her to sway gently. This little creature, still developing her awareness, sensed the shift in mood and asked timidly, “Mistress… unhappy?”

Lucretia turned towards the swinging doll, her expression softening to a gentle smile, “No, just thinking.”

“Thinking!” Nilu repeated, perhaps questioning or simply echoing the last word she heard.

Unbothered by the repetition, Lucretia affirmed quietly to herself, “Yes, thinking, thinking about what to do next. You will think like this too, in the future. Your mind will grow, just like your sister’s – you all possess the ‘hearts’ I meticulously created.”

Encouraged by her words, Nilu began swinging more joyfully, exclaiming, “The heart!”

The prolonged silence was broken when Sailor announced, “We are now nearing the physical maritime boundary. Lady Lucretia, any further and we’ll fall into the chaotic time stream. It’s time to enter the next stage of the journey.”

Lucretia nodded slightly, her gaze then shifting to the side.

In the mist, a shadowy female figure appeared, nodding back at Lucretia.

“Miss Agatha, Sailor, I want to thank you both. Go ahead and take over from here.”

“Don’t mention it, it’s all per the captain’s orders,” Agatha responded, her voice ethereal as it floated through the air. Then, her spectral form gradually faded into the mist.

Suddenly, a deep and profound rumbling began within the Bright Star, emanating from beneath their feet. It felt as though a massive beast was stirring in the ship’s hull, its presence rising from the sea’s depths. The rumbling and vibrations spread through the entire vessel as the “reflection of the Vanished,” guided by Agatha, began to physically manifest.

A gigantic phantom emerged from a shadowy realm, swiftly ascending from the calm sea surface. With unstoppable force, it merged into the Bright Star.

Shirley’s eyes widened in awe as she watched the deck ignite with intense, surreal green flames. These flames consumed every part of the ship inch by inch, transforming the towering smokestack into a dark mast, while the steaming vapors morphed into ghostly sails. The wooden deck extended before her, leading to a grand helm and a dark steering wheel at its far end.

For a brief moment, the scene vividly resembled the Vanished, making Shirley feel as if she were back on board her previous ship.

Yet, this was only an illusion, albeit a fleeting one. From up close, Shirley could discern numerous details characteristic of the Bright Star, confirming that they were still aboard it.

However, this level of “projection fusion” was sufficient for Anomaly 077 to assume his role as the “helmsman of the Vanished.”

The gaunt figure, resembling a corpse, solemnly straightened his sailor’s uniform, then nodded at Lucretia and approached the phantom-flamed helm. He climbed the spectral steps to the elevated platform and grasped the dark steering wheel firmly. The hollow howls and echoes, seemingly emanating from the depths of this apparition, soon transformed into celebratory cheers for their homeward voyage.

“Return – home!” Sailor shouted, his voice hoarse and commanding as he forcefully turned the steering wheel, “We’re going home!”

As Duncan traversed the ruins along the “Pilgrimage Path,” a distant howling echoed from the edge of the vast sea, prompting him to pause and glance back towards the source of the spectral sounds.

Alice, walking alongside him, also halted and looked around with curiosity, “What’s the matter?”

Duncan turned to her, his voice low and reflective, “…They’re returning, everything is going smoothly.”

“Is that so? That’s great,” Alice replied, her face lighting up with a smile, “I wonder how Pland is doing now…”

“Pland… is doing well.” Duncan’s response came slowly as he attuned himself to the distant and elusive “signal” that bridged time and space.

He maintained a connection with Pland, whose “avatar” remained active in the antique shop, following his previous instructions. However, Duncan felt the link weakening, not due to any environmental factors or the vast “remote distance” at the “end of the world.” This fading connection was an inevitable consequence of the “anomaly” known as “Zhou Ming” growing and awakening.

The fragile sanctuary could not endure the intense scrutiny of the “anomaly,” whose gaze, if cast even momentarily across the Boundless Sea, could obliterate it in a mere 0.002 seconds.

That was why he had sent Nina and Morris back to the Boundless Sea—to serve as his “eyes”—since he anticipated losing his own ability to observe it directly.

After a brief moment of tuning in, Duncan carefully managed his dwindling connection to the distant avatars. Sensing the escalating “awakening” within himself, he further diminished the avatars’ activity, now disabling their senses of taste, smell, and their ability to perceive temperature, pain, and other complex sensations inherently human.

These human sensations—feeling warmth or cold, pain, tiredness, and the need for sleep—had once been crucial in maintaining his identity as a human. But now, he had no choice but to gradually shut them off to prolong his observational capabilities of the Boundless Sea.

His goal was to sustain this until Nina was safely back.

“Captain?”

Alice’s concerned voice broke his focus. Duncan turned to see the doll looking at him worriedly, gently tugging at his sleeve.

“Are you okay?” Alice inquired anxiously, “You don’t look very well.”

Duncan’s expression softened gradually.

Even without the sensory feedback from the avatars, he was determined to retain his humanity.

“It’s okay,” he reassured her softly, “Let’s go, they’ve already set off, and we still have a long way to go.”