Deep Sea Embers - Chapter 740: The Long Sunset
As if reaching for the heavens itself, a magnificent and towering fog wall loomed before them, its surface shimmering ever so slightly. Streams of mist cascaded from its summit, glowing briefly under a sudden flash of light from within. This was swiftly followed by the emergence of a faint green flame, flickering dimly yet undeniably present. Majestically, the formidable Vanished sliced through this fog wall, its bow cutting a path through the mist, trailing whisps of fog as it moved steadily towards the clearer waters of the normal sea.
In its wake, several other ships – the “Bright Star,” “Tide,” “Unresolved,” and “Resolved,” each flanked by their own fleet of varying sizes, navigated through the dense fog as well.
As these ships left the murky barrier behind, the turbulent skies began to clear, giving way to the familiar, comforting light of the sun. The day was drawing to a close, with the sun inching closer to the horizon. The boundary of Vision 001, defined by its dual rings of runes, now skimmed the surface of the sea, bathing the sky in a spectacular golden-red hue, a breathtaking display of otherworldly beauty.
The sailors, having emerged safely from the enigmatic mist, let out sighs of relief. Though they were still technically in border waters, the sight of the sun and the rhythmic blue waves instilled a sense of security in them, a comforting reminder of the stability of the “Ordered World.”
“Contact has been made with the Ark at Wind Harbor,” announced Vanna, approaching the ship’s bow where Duncan stood lost in thought, staring at the horizon. “I’ve relayed a summary of our experiences on the Holy Island. Her Holiness Helena is eager for your next meeting.”
Duncan responded with a noncommittal hum, his attention seemingly elsewhere. After a moment, he shifted his gaze from the sea to Vanna. “Anything else?”
Vanna, with a hint of concern, addressed him. “You’ve seemed unusually preoccupied since leaving the captain’s cabin. Is something troubling you?”
Duncan exhaled softly. “It’s a disturbing conversation I had with Goathead. It concerns those two mysterious phantasms you and Morris encountered.”
Vanna’s eyes widened in recollection. “The phantasms we saw?”
“Yes, about them…” Duncan began, only to be interrupted by an unexpected sound.
A deep, resonant hum echoed through the air, akin to a colossal spring being struck somewhere deep within the clouds. The sound was distant yet lingered, seeming to reverberate across the entire sky.
Startled, Vanna immediately looked up towards the source of the echo, her eyes scanning the distant clouds. Almost simultaneously, Morris and Lucretia emerged from a nearby cabin, their faces also turned skyward in astonishment at the mysterious sound.
The eerie humming sound captured the attention of many sailors across the fleet. Aboard the three main battleships of the churches, both priests and guardian warriors, unsettled by the sound, rushed onto the deck. Their eyes scanned the sky, still reverberating with the strange hum. Some sailors pointed towards the distant clouds, where they discerned something unusual stirring deep within.
Duncan squinted, his attention captured by a faint glow behind the clouds. He couldn’t help but fix his gaze in that direction. Suddenly, the luminescence in his line of sight intensified, tracing a swift, distinct path as it moved rapidly behind the cloud cover.
Lucretia, standing nearby, suddenly opened her eyes wide in shock.
The glow, accompanied by a series of deep, resonant booms that grew louder and clearer, rapidly expanded in size. Brilliant flashes of golden light pierced through the gaps in the clouds. Moments later, the glowing object broke through the clouds in the northwest, arcing down towards the northern sea and transforming into a radiant celestial body.
Resembling a miniature sun, the enormous luminous body gradually vanished into the distant sea.
After a brief moment of astonishment, Duncan quickly regained his composure. He turned sharply towards Lucretia and found her already looking at him, understanding in her eyes.
Another luminescent body had descended.
On the nearby ship “Tide,” sailors exclaimed in surprise. The more alert among them turned to observe the sun, and the particularly observant noticed a new gap in the rune ring.
Lucretia quickly stepped closer, speaking up before Duncan could ask, “It seems to have fallen towards the north, possibly near the Cold Sea. I wonder if my brother has seen anything…”
“I did catch a glimpse of a golden light from the cemetery, but my view was obstructed by the city’s buildings,” Duncan responded immediately. He then focused, reaching out in his mind towards the distant north, calling, “Tyrian.”
An unmistakable sense of panic traveled along their connection, followed by the voice of the “Iron Admiral” in Duncan’s mind: “I’m here, Father.”
With Tyrian’s response, background noises of chaos filtered through, indicating turmoil around him.
“Did you see a huge luminous object falling?” Duncan quickly asked, alarmed by the background noises, “What’s happening there? Why the commotion?”
Tyrian’s voice came through intermittently, “There’s some trouble here… I did see the luminous object you mentioned, it was falling…”
“Where did it land approximately? How far from the city-state? Was it within the civilized world?” Lucretia interjected urgently.
There was a brief, tense silence from Tyrian, then a faint, somewhat bemused response: “…It landed on me.”
Duncan and Lucretia exchanged a look of bewildered astonishment. “…?”
The sound of Tyrian’s voice carried a tone of bewilderment mixed with concern, “To be exact, it struck the coast near Frost – but a portion of its luminous structure was so expansive that it reached into the city. My office is right under it… Things here are quite chaotic now… The light is overwhelming, so bright and sudden, I’m still struggling to adjust my eyes…”
Duncan and Lucretia were momentarily speechless, absorbing this unexpected turn of events.
Duncan, in truth, had not foreseen such a scenario unfolding.
An uneasy silence hung in the air until Duncan, seeking to address immediate concerns, broke the quiet. “Has anyone been injured?”
“Currently, it’s hard to say for sure, but it seems there’s no direct harm caused. The glowing part of the object is intangible; it didn’t even disturb a single dust particle as it descended. Its physical component, however, landed off the coast. Fortunately, that area was clear of any ships,” Tyrian explained, his voice revealing his efforts to manage the unfolding chaos, “However, its sudden descent has thrown the city into disarray. I’m coordinating efforts to pacify the affected areas and assess any potential damages…”
After a brief pause, Tyrian added, “Lucy, this object is probably…”
“It’s likely akin to the luminous geometric object we have here at Wind Harbor. A second, larger gap has now formed on the rune ring encircling the sun,” Lucretia interjected, her voice grave. “…It could mean that the sun’s disintegration process is quickening.”
“…Damn it.”
“I’ll forward the research data we have on our glowing object to you as soon as possible. You’ll need to establish a research facility to study it. First, relocate that ‘fallen object’ to a secure area near the city-state. Its central part should be tangible… Once things settle down there, have someone locate its core and inform me about its condition.”
“Understood.”
Following a few more exchanges regarding the situation, Duncan concluded his communication with Tyrian.
The deck fell into a solemn silence, with Duncan and Lucretia standing quietly under the golden-red hues of the setting sun.
A palpable tension hung in the air, an invisible burden that weighed heavily on their chests, making it difficult for Lucretia to catch her breath.
“Papa…” But her words were cut short by a strange hum resonating from the sky.
Abruptly, the golden-red twilight vanished, replaced by a suffocating darkness that enveloped everything around them in an instant.
The sun had been extinguished once again.
From the distant lands of Pland to Frost and Wind Harbor to the border waters, the entire fleet witnessed the sun’s sudden plunge into darkness, accompanied by an eerie, deep hum. The heart of Vision 001 transformed into a foreboding, pitch-black void, leaving only the double-ringed runes at the horizon glowing faintly golden, barely casting light upon the now perplexed sky.
The two gaps on the rune ring were now starkly prominent and unsettling.
“The Observer Effect Stability Anchor has ceased functioning again…”
Alice appeared from the cabin, her gaze fixed on the extinguished sun, a look of distant contemplation etched on her face.
Nina approached with a look of anxiety etched on her face, her voice tinged with worry as she muttered, “How long will it stay off this time?”
Alice, gazing towards the darkened sky, responded with uncertainty, “I don’t know.” She shook her head, a hint of frustration in her tone. “The system is still malfunctioning, continuously attempting to restart.”
Dog and Shirley emerged from within, joining the others on the deck. Dog sat quietly, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon, while Shirley looked towards the captain with visible nervousness. In a hushed, anxious whisper, Shirley asked, “…It will light up again, right? It’s not going to stay dark permanently, is it?”
Nina, taken aback by Shirley’s concern, replied with her own uncertainty, “It shouldn’t be that severe, right?” She paused, then added, somewhat hesitantly, “If it does… maybe I should think about floating in the sky regularly to light up the city-state… But I can’t provide much light alone, and what about my days off?”
Listening to Nina’s speculative thoughts, Shirley’s expression shifted to one of mild bewilderment. She turned to Nina, remarking with a slight awkwardness, “…Aren’t you getting a bit too carried away?”
“The situation itself is already beyond normal…” Nina retorted.
As Shirley and Nina engaged in their somewhat whimsical conversation, perhaps as a way to ease their mounting tension, the deep, ominous hum resonated through the sky once more.
Then, almost as quickly as it had vanished, the world was bathed in sunlight again. The sun reignited, casting a golden-red glow over the sea as if its disappearance had been but a fleeting shadow.
Shirley and Nina exchanged a look of surprise and relief.
This time, the sun’s “reboot” was notably faster than the previous occurrences.
“It’s lit up again!” Shirley exclaimed with a burst of joy, “It only went out for a few minutes this time!”
“That was frightening. I feared it might remain dark for hours like before…” Nina also let out a sigh of relief, her voice carrying a hint of optimism, “It seems the situation isn’t as dire as we feared.”
Morris, standing nearby, also appeared to relax, a small smile forming on his face.
Compared to the previous instances, this brief extinguishing of the sun, regardless of the reason for its rapid re-illumination, was a positive sign. The return of sunlight, after all, was a welcome relief.
On the “Vanished,” the “Tide,” and the other church warships, people collectively exhaled in the revitalizing sunlight, their recently heightened anxieties easing.
However, an hour passed, and an unsettling realization dawned.
The sun remained fixed in its position.
Two hours later, the prolonged sunset still showed no signs of giving way to night.