Deep Sea Embers - Chapter 803: The Perceptive Agatha

Leaving the boundary separating them from the rest of the world and embarking on a journey that seemed to stretch to the very edges of the world, the Vanished and the Bright Star crew members slowly developed a deep, unspoken connection. This bond formed through frequent interactions between the two vessels: crew members regularly visited one another, exchanging both supplies and tales of their lives. Ai frequently acted as the go-between for these groups, facilitating their communication. The relationships that grew out of these meetings and the daily routines that evolved from them seemed to quietly cement themselves as a vital support system for everyone involved, uniting them in their shared humanity.

Cut off from the rest of society and the noise of crowded places, these voyagers found comfort and reassurance in simply talking to and being with each other. In the dense fog that seemed to signify the end of the world, recognizing and acknowledging the existence of their companions became of paramount importance.

In a scene of abrupt departure, Nina, Shirley, and several others quickly exited the dining room, each person holding tightly to their eating utensils and dishes. Shirley was especially careful to take her unusually large rice bowl with her, leaving behind a scene of calm. Duncan stayed behind, sitting at the table with a smile of resignation on his face as he looked over the remains of their meal: burnt food and a pot of thick soup that continued to bubble away.

After a short pause, he shook his head slightly and spoke to himself in a low voice, “I wonder how Morris ever managed to survive his younger days of adventure… Maybe he had a stomach made of iron?”

Right on cue, Agatha’s face appeared in the reflection of a shiny soup spoon lying on the edge of the table. She started recounting a tale, “I’ve heard stories about Morris. He would spend one-third of his time eating hardtack, another third foraging for whatever he could find, and the last third he’d transform into his mechanical form, consuming machine oil and even gnawing on molten ore, leaving his well-being in the hands of fate…”

Duncan couldn’t help but smile at this, responding, “That certainly sounds like something Morris would do.”

Agatha gave a nonchalant shrug, her eyes moving from the spoon to a dining knife nearby. “I can believe most of his wild stories, but there was this one time he claimed to have been stuck in a deep fissure for weeks. He came out saying that the taste of a death crow wasn’t as bad as one might think. I find that hard to swallow.”

Before Agatha could even finish, Duncan’s face showed his skepticism. “Eating a shadow demon? Is there even anything on those to eat?”

Agatha simply shrugged again, her hand drifting from the spoon to the knife. “Who knows? Morris only shared that story after a few drinks. You know how it is when the elderly reminisce about their adventures with a bit too much to drink—the details tend to become a bit blurred.”

Duncan’s lips twitched slightly, an understated signal of his decision to move on from their previous conversation. He lifted his gaze to a porthole nearby. Through its open window, he saw nothing but a vast, uninterrupted expanse of grey-white that stretched into infinity, making it appear as though the entire world had merged into this endless shade.

Breaking the ensuing silence, Agatha’s voice, captivating as ever, came from his side. Her image, though slightly distorted, was reflected in the flickering light on the surface of a nearby lantern, adding a surreal quality to her presence.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, her tone inviting a deeper conversation.

Duncan took a moment before answering, his voice soft yet filled with an undercurrent of emotion, “It’s been a long while since we left. Do you ever find yourself missing Frost?”

Agatha responded immediately, her voice carrying a mix of nostalgia and earnestness, “Yes, I miss it. I won’t hide my feelings from you. The memories and emotions that have built up over the years still press heavily on me, even if they now feel like distant echoes. Sometimes, I’ll snap out of a daydream and think I’m back in that cathedral for a brief moment, waiting to meet with Bishop Ivan.”

She paused, letting out a soft sigh, then locked eyes with Duncan.

“But you have other intentions for our journey, don’t you?”

Surprise flickered across Duncan’s face as he watched Agatha’s reflection shimmer in the lantern’s glow. “…Why would you say that?”

Agatha’s voice was calm, almost reflective as she explained, “I can feel it. You’re driven by a purpose, embarking on a path that skirts the edges of this world. The Vanished leaves a trail wherever it goes… a trail marked by your decisions. I might not understand it completely, but through our travels, I’ve started to notice something significant. From the storm goddess’s domain to the wisdom god’s territory, and now this voyage… it’s as if you’re drawing a circle around the globe, and within this pattern, I sense… an impending finale.”

“You’re on the verge of something monumental. This circumnavigation at the world’s end is just the beginning. Once you finish whatever preparations you’re making at the border, that’s when the real expedition starts. And I have this feeling… you’re not planning for us to be with you till the very end.”

Duncan remained silent, his eyes steadfastly meeting Agatha’s.

“Being a gatekeeper has granted me a vision beyond the ordinary, especially now, as a reflection. It’s like having a glimpse into fate itself,” Agatha shared with a soft, reassuring smile, then gently shook her head. “Lately, my sleep has been disturbed by nightmares. I dream of this ship navigating through an endless emptiness, abandoned and forlorn, with you alone at the helm. I’ve called out, inquiring about everyone else, but my voice doesn’t reach you. In those moments, I get a haunting feeling… that in your forthcoming voyage, there might not be a place for us.”

Agatha took a brief moment before continuing, her words imbued with a resolute certainty. “Your sudden question about my longing for Frost only solidifies my belief in what you’re planning.”

Duncan listened quietly, deeply absorbed in thought. After a significant pause, he finally spoke, breaking the thoughtful silence that had settled between them. “You’re correct in your assessment. The Vanished is on a voyage to encircle the world, and after this journey concludes… I am faced with the task of initiating a reset of this ‘world.’ But before this can happen, it will be necessary for all of you to leave.”

Agatha’s eyes remained fixed on Duncan, her expression expectant, waiting for him to elaborate.

“This departure isn’t about sending you away,” Duncan clarified thoughtfully. “You have always been part of my crew, integral to every step of our journey. It’s just that, as I approach this critical stage, your roles will evolve.”

“And what exactly is your plan?” Agatha asked gently, curiosity lacing her voice.

Duncan took a moment, his voice steady as he replied, “…My plan involves dismantling this world. During this pivotal phase, you will act as my ‘anchors,’ serving as my eyes and ears. There will come a time when I might not be able to monitor everything directly…”

Agatha listened intently, her silence extending even after Duncan finished explaining his vision. She then spoke, her voice laced with a hint of uncertainty. “It now makes sense why you chose to bring the Bright Star along instead of having Miss Lucretia directly join us on the Vanished…”

“The Bright Star is essential for the return journey,” Duncan elaborated. “Lucy is sharp; she likely sensed what I was planning.”

“She might have guessed, but you’ll need to share the complete picture with everyone eventually,” Agatha responded with earnest seriousness, her eyes meeting Duncan’s. “You know you can count on us.”

“I do trust you. It’s just that finalizing this plan took a considerable amount of time,” Duncan confessed, looking directly into Agatha’s eyes. “It wasn’t until we left the realm of Gomona that I fully understood the structure of this world and realized that a ‘shutdown’ sequence was necessary to resolve the lingering aftermath of the Great Annihilation. Initially, the inclusion of the Bright Star was a precautionary measure.”

Hearing this, Agatha exhaled softly and allowed herself a smile. “With this knowledge, I feel much more at ease.”

She then gracefully moved down from the lantern, her silhouette passing through the light and casting reflections over the dinnerware until she came to rest beside Duncan’s glass of water.

“With such a detailed plan in place, we can move forward with confidence,” she affirmed. “Following the captain’s orders is always better than facing uncertainty without direction.”

Duncan’s smile widened as he looked towards Agatha’s reflection, which shimmered in the water glass. He gently tapped the glass, causing the image of the enigmatic gatekeeper within to briefly distort.

“Good, because I’ve got an order now,” he announced confidently.

Agatha’s image smoothly transitioned onto a nearby piece of fine china. “I’m ready for your command,” she said, her voice clear and eager.

“Get Sailor and have him clean up this mess,” Duncan directed, standing up from his chair. “That one crew member has been milling about aimlessly since he’s been relieved from his duties at the wheel, acting as though he’s got a lifetime exemption from work aboard the Vanished as if he’s above contributing.”

A note of playful understanding was evident in Agatha’s reply. “Understood, Captain!”

Duncan nodded in acknowledgment and then made his way out of the dining room.

He was planning to retreat to the solitude of his captain’s quarters to rest before they reached the next crucial point on their journey. Along the way, he intended to make a detour to inspect the condition of Alice, who had been assigned to the ship’s helm. Though now reduced to a mere “empty shell” tethered to the wheel, with her more complex duties reduced to basic navigational instincts as “Navigator Three,” Duncan felt uneasy about leaving her unattended for too long.

With these thoughts preoccupying him, Duncan walked at a leisurely pace towards the rear of the ship. Yet, as he neared the stairs leading to the helm, he came to a sudden stop.

Thump, thump, thump.

The unexpected sound of knocking on glass rang out, startling him.

For a moment, Duncan instinctively looked around for the source of the noise, but he quickly realized there were no windows in his immediate vicinity. Nonetheless, the knocking continued as if resonating directly with his mind.

With a puzzled frown, Duncan connected the dots.

The source of the knocking was coming from his own “perception”!

He sharply looked up, catching sight of the “Door of the Lost” standing ominously a short distance away…