Deep Sea Embers

Chapter 700: Return

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Duncan stood solemnly in front of a massive, dark throne that cast an ominous shadow over the room. He pondered the significance of the throne, a fragment of Saslokha—a remnant of a once formidable entity that had long since shattered. Now fused with the throne, this piece had become an integral part of the sanctuary, a place imbued with mysterious power and ancient secrets from the Deep Sea Era. This era, marking both the beginning and the twilight of time, and the throne, formed part of the complex legacy of the enigmatic Navigator One.

Duncan’s curiosity deepened as he wondered if the other “Kings” knew the true nature of this throne. How had they reacted when the “King of Darkness” chose to integrate a part of the “Dream King’s” remains into this sacred space?

Seeking answers, Duncan asked the Tomb Guardian, a stoic figure charged with overseeing this place. The Guardian replied in a detached tone, “Utilize everything. In those desperate times, resources were scarce. Anything useful was valued highly. Should the original Creator’s plan fail, even this would be repurposed for the next effort.”

After nodding subtly in acknowledgment, Duncan left the platform with the immense throne and walked down the pathway, his steps echoing softly among the ancient pillars. Just before exiting, he stopped and asked, “Is there anything else you wish to disclose?”

“There is nothing more,” the Tomb Guardian answered slowly. “You have witnessed all that is to be seen here.”

“It seems my time here is at an end,” Duncan mused, looking up at the chaotic, dim “sky,” an illusion created by some unseen light source. “There are people outside these walls awaiting my return with news.”

“I will accompany you to the exit,” the Guardian offered, bowing respectfully.

“Very well,” agreed Duncan. As he was about to descend the path leading back to the corridor, he paused, struck by a thought. “Suppose I meet the ‘Creator’ you mentioned. I don’t know their condition or what my journey entails, but if our paths do cross, do you have a message for them?”

The Guardian paused, considering the weight of Duncan’s question, then shook its head slowly. “It would be futile. This facility is about to seal itself off. Once you leave, it will cut all external communications until a critical moment… Even if you meet our Creator, no further messages will reach me.”

Duncan and the Guardian shared a moment of silent understanding before Duncan turned to leave, only to be stopped by the Guardian’s voice once more.

“Wait, please… There is indeed a message,” the Guardian said with unexpected solemnity. After a pause, as if choosing its words carefully, it continued, “Tell him… We are honored to have completed our work.”

“I will carry your message,” Duncan assured, his face solemn. With that promise, he turned and began the long ascent, leaving behind the ancient guardian and its ageless charge.

The Guardian walked beside Duncan in respectful silence as they made their way from the cryptic depths of the tomb.

As they neared the exit, the Guardian broke the silence abruptly. “In the future, they no longer need to heed the call—please tell those shadows lingering outside that they should refrain from approaching, no matter what may emerge from here. The sanctuary has completed all its originally designed journeys, and our period of vigilance has ended. What lies ahead is a future so unpredictable that not even the Creator had envisioned it… The nature of what comes next is unknown to all.”

“I truly hope that in the days to come, everyone will be… safe… and well,” the Guardian added, his voice strained and deep, echoing the weight of ages. His steps grew more labored, resonating with the burden of countless years. His once pristine white robe turned into tattered, ancient funeral shrouds, and chains bearing powerful seals began to emerge, slowly binding him.

Then, the heavy sound of a door echoed.

The ancient, majestic tomb door creaked open, and Duncan emerged from vision 004, remembered as the only individual to ever exit this door fully aware.

Figures that had been anxiously waiting near the entrance immediately gathered around him. Vanna was the first to reach him, offering support (though he needed none), her face marked with deep concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Duncan replied casually, looking back. The pitch-dark corridor he had left showed no sign of the Tomb Guardian, only a diminishing, twisting shadow that slowly faded into nothingness, which made him frown. “How long was I in there?”

“Just a moment,” Helena chimed in from the side. “We heard some brief, odd noises from within the tomb, then the door swung open, and you came out.”

“Just a moment?” Duncan’s brow furrowed in thought.

“That’s always been the case,” Vanna confirmed, nodding. “Regardless of how long one feels they’ve been inside the tomb, from an outside perspective, it seems like just a brief moment. The church’s scholars suggest that this vision is due to the isolated temporal flow within vision 004, distinct from the external world…”

Lune raised his hand, adding, “I should mention, this theory was originally proposed by me a century ago.”

As the conversation continued, Duncan remained reflective, his gaze returning to the now silent Vision 004. Suddenly, a deep rumble echoed from the ancient tomb, which then began to gradually descend.

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In what seemed like the blink of an eye, the grand structure of Crete vanished from sight, leaving behind a poignant emptiness and many unanswered questions.

At that moment, Vanna observed the grave and thoughtful expression on Duncan’s face, prompting her to break the silence. “Captain, given your state, you still retain the memories from inside Vision 004, correct? Can you share what you witnessed within the tomb?”

Duncan paused briefly, considering her question, then nodded slightly in affirmation.

“The visions and revelations I encountered within Vision 004 likely differ from what previous ‘Listeners’ experienced… I’ve come to understand the true purpose behind the construction of this facility and its implications for the future, but before I reveal anything…”

He lifted his head, sweeping his gaze across the assembled group, their anticipation palpable. His eyes eventually settled on Helena and the other three Popes.

“Please, let’s have the others step away for now. Once you understand the reality of what lies within the tomb, it will be up to you to decide how best to convey this information to your saints.”

…

Outside, gentle waves lapped against the ship’s hull, and a refreshing sea breeze wafted through the captain’s cabin as Alice swung open the circular window, inviting the outside world in. She stood there, basking in the sunlight and the breeze, her eyes closed in contentment.

“It’s always good to air out the room. The captain seems to always forget about that,” murmured Miss Doll, speaking as if to her invisible “friends” aboard the ship. “Without fresh air, everything starts to mold!”

Her quiet musings went unanswered in the room. Even the usually boisterous Goathead lay unusually silent, its eyes half-closed, seemingly dozing on the edge of the chart table.

Suddenly, Goathead perked up, its head swiveling left and right in confusion.

It spotted Alice, busy cleaning nearby, and then its gaze landed on the “Skull of Dreams” a short distance away, prompting a muffled grunt.

Curiosity drew Alice closer. “Umm, Mr. Goathead, what seems to be the matter?”

As Goathead’s neck creaked like old wood, it murmured, “Odd… I feel as though I’ve just awoken from a dream.”

Surprised, Alice’s eyes widened. “Really? But haven’t you always said you don’t dream?”

“That’s what makes this so odd…” Goathead muttered in return. “The captain insists I dream, but in theory, I should never be conscious of it… Yet, as my mind wandered just now, it felt distinctly like I was dreaming.”

Intrigued, Alice set aside her duster and sat opposite Goathead. “That’s interesting. Sometimes I wonder if I dream too, but I never seem to recall anything upon waking. Do you remember what you dreamt just now?”

Goathead looked at the doll sitting across from it, its voice taking on a peculiar tone. “I dreamed… that I was seated upon a vast throne, for what felt like countless years… Around me, many people bustled about, engrossed in their tasks, and then…”

It paused, its rigid features contorting into what resembled a frown, “Suddenly, all those who were scurrying about… they all turned into my children…”

Alice’s curiosity was unmistakable as she leaned in, her hands propping up her chin, eyes widening with intrigue at Goathead’s peculiar narrative. The imagery of a legion of Goathead children struck her imagination vividly. “All of them had goat heads like yours? How did they move about? Were they hopping around?” she asked with an innocent earnestness.

Goathead tried to interject, taken aback by her literal interpretation. “…I think you’ve misunderstood, that’s not quite what I meant…”

But before it could further clarify the surreal dream imagery to the curious doll, their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the opening of the cabin door.

Duncan’s tall, imposing figure filled the doorway.

Instantly, Alice’s attention shifted. Her face lit up with a bright smile, and she rose from her seat behind the chart table, excitedly moving towards the door. “The captain’s back!” she exclaimed with a beaming smile.

Goathead swiveled its head to regard Duncan, a hint of perplexity in its gaze. “You seem to have returned from a… rather unusual place?” it inquired, picking up on something different about him.

Duncan didn’t directly address Goathead’s observation. Instead, he moved over to the chart table, adjusting his stance as if bracing himself to deliver something significant. His eyes locked onto Goathead with a grave seriousness. “I have something important to tell you. Please, don’t panic…”

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