Deep Sea Embers

In a fusion of growing unease and raw intrigue, Agatha discreetly examined her surroundings.

At a casual glance, the environment was nothing more than a typical dwelling. The bulk of the furniture may have been somewhat behind the times, but it was evidently cared for and in immaculate condition. The indoor atmosphere was crisp, signaling that the windows had been ajar for ventilation a short while ago. A distinctive sound of simmering water emanated from the kitchen, almost as if a pot of tea was in the making.

The setting didn’t strike her as a “point of arrival”; it was entirely ordinary, nothing more than a residential home.

That said, Agatha had been aware right from the get-go that this was a standard home, no more, no less. Up until a few days prior, it had even been up for lease at the local community rental center. However, the fact that it was chosen as a temporary abode by a mysterious guest had piqued her interest, leading her to wonder if there was something peculiar about the place. But, as far as she could tell, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Would you like some tea? Or maybe coffee?” Duncan proposed nonchalantly as he approached Agatha.

Caught off guard, Agatha looked startled as she turned to face Duncan, who had settled beside her. It took her a second to process his question, after which she hastily gestured a decline, “No… thanks, I’m not parched.”

“Don’t stand on ceremony. Make yourself at home,” Duncan offered with a genial smile, comfortably sinking into the sofa facing Agatha. “Allow me to hazard a guess… If my instincts serve me right, you are the city-state’s guardian. It seems unlikely that a routine guardian would make a domestic visit at this hour.”

“Gatekeeper Agatha,” she corrected swiftly with a nod, making an effort to maintain her composure. “Did you anticipate my arrival?”

“Either you were destined to arrive or someone else higher up in the church’s ranks,” Duncan responded with a touch of indifference. “Annie would notify the gravekeeper about my presence, and the gravekeeper, in turn, would inform the church. All I had to do was sit tight and await the arrival of the senior church official from this city-state.”

Adjusting her posture subtly, Agatha looked more intently at the imposing figure seated across from her. “I need to understand… your true motives. What is your identity, and what has brought you to Frost?”

“Didn’t I state it already?” Duncan raised a questioning eyebrow. “I’m here to tackle the issues that have cropped up here. I was under the impression that I made that clear in my report.”

Agatha’s mouth opened, her struggle evident as she grappled with such a straightforward response. After a brief pause, she inquired tentatively, “Is it… really that simple?”

“If you’re in need of a more sinister motive and an elaborate scheme to find this situation believable, I’m more than capable of concocting one right here, right now,” Duncan replied with a hint of nonchalance. “What’s your preference? Doomsday scenario or world domination?”

At this, Agatha’s body stiffened perceptibly.

“You certainly managed to spook her,” Vanna interjected suddenly, a couple of mild coughs punctuating her words from behind Duncan. “This woman, the gatekeeper, she’ll take it to heart.”

“Will she, really?” Duncan rotated slightly, an expression of bewilderment marking his features. “I assumed it was clearly a jest…”

“Drawing from personal experience, she will,” Vanna conceded with a resigned sigh. “Those who operate in our line of work are perpetually on tenterhooks; their sense of humor tends to be a bit lacking.”

Caught off guard, Duncan momentarily stumbled over his words. Simultaneously, Agatha regarded the towering woman with an air of confusion. For some unfathomable reason, ever since she stepped into the room, she had felt the intensity of Vanna’s focus on her, as if… she was being subjected to meticulous observation.

“But this is of little consequence. The crucial point is that she ascertained that the superior entity before her was merely toying with her through an ill-conceived, intimidating jest.

“I apologize for my overly cautious disposition,” Agatha voiced out earnestly, “The recent surge in aberrations within the city-state has heightened everyone’s nervousness. I even started to suspect…”

She stalled, uncertain about how to complete her train of thought. Duncan, however, seamlessly carried on for her, “Suspected me, did you? It’s understandable, given the coincidence of my appearance and the immediate interactions I’ve had with the Annihilators and ‘counterfeits’.

Agatha lapsed into silence, a blush of embarrassment coloring her features.

“I’d be interested to learn about the advancements you’ve made in your investigations,” Duncan suggested, unperturbed by her reaction. “Have you been able to unearth any leads?”

Agatha appeared torn, hesitant about divulging too much proprietary information to this mysterious “visitor.” However, after a beat, she cautiously began to articulate, “Following your warning, we indeed apprehended a few members of the Annihilation Cult but garnered nearly no valuable intel. Those heretical minds, in a deep symbiotic relationship with the shadow demons, are incredibly resilient and often choose to self-annihilate at the very last instant. The ones we managed to seize alive are merely peripheral players with little knowledge about the grand scheme…”

“As of now, we can only affirm that the frequent cloning phenomenon in the city is indeed attributable to these heretics, and they have successfully established a sprawling, hidden lair within Frost. However, as for the exact whereabouts of this hideout… we’re still in the dark.”

Pausing for a moment, Agatha then proceeded, “Regarding Dagger Island, the one you referred to in your letter… what’s more unsettling is that it has vanished.”

“I’m aware,” Duncan responded impassively.

“You were already in the know?” Agatha inquired, visibly taken aback. “This piece of news is supposed to be classified…”

Duncan retorted calmly, “I have my independent sources. Even without leaving the city-state, I stay informed about certain occurrences out in the outer sea.”

Indeed, the source of this intelligence was Tyrian. After all, Dagger Island had dematerialized right before the eyes of the Mist Fleet. It stood to reason that the Iron Admiral would convey the circumstances to the Vanished.

Even with the shocking revelation, Duncan was left astounded but nothing more. The seemingly impossible phenomenon of such a vast island evaporating into thin air was beyond his comprehension.

According to the information relayed by Tyrian, the island’s vanishing act didn’t involve sinking but rather a sudden dissolution into the sea. Preceding its disappearance was a series of persistent explosions, indicating that someone or something on the island had been activated. But beyond that piece of intel, further information was notably scant.

Due to the meager details at hand, the peculiar mode of disappearance, and the absence of any residual traces post-disappearance, Dagger Island had evolved from an enigma into an even more profound mystery. The happenings on the island were unknown, and the island’s current whereabouts were equally elusive.

“Do you know where Dagger Island has gone?” Agatha’s voice cut through Duncan’s musings. The gatekeeper of the city-state looked up at him with earnest eyes. “Do you understand what transpired there?”

Pondering for a moment, Duncan felt that confessing his fruitless all-night ruminations might taint his reputation. Therefore, after a brief hesitance, he pointed towards the ground.

“Beneath?” Agatha recoiled in surprise. “Are you suggesting that Dagger Island has sunk into the ocean… but the eyewitness testimonies claimed there were no visible whirlpools on the sea surface indicative of an island submerging…”

Duncan was at a loss for words – he was equally perplexed about the abrupt vanishing of such a colossal island!

Nevertheless, he continued to point downwards, right at his feet.

“You’re not referring to Dagger Island… you mean the hint lies beneath our feet?” Agatha seemed to grasp his implication, and almost instantaneously, she recollected her recent conversation with Archbishop Ivan about the “Second Waterway” buried deep beneath the ground!

City Hall and the Death Church had scoured the entire city-state. The stringent curfew and repetitive large-scale sweeps should theoretically have ensnared a significant number of concealed cultists, but the detainees were always mere foot soldiers… The initial waterway, subway, pipeline wells, and other potential hideouts had also been inspected thoroughly, yet there were no leads…

The city-state had its physical boundaries. If the aforementioned locations failed to yield any traces of these heretics, the only remaining possibility was the Second Waterway.

The collapsed sections, the gloomy caves, the contaminated vertical shafts, and pipes… They might indeed not be conducive to survival, but what if, against all odds, those cultists had managed to endure in such adverse conditions?

Of course, conducting a thorough investigation of the “Second Waterway” had already been in the plans, but Agatha had been apprehensive about confirming whether this unavoidably resource-draining search operation held any substantial significance. Now, however, she had stumbled upon the most compelling justification for this undertaking – an affable entity of god-like stature had explicitly indicated the need to search beneath the surface.

“I see – it all makes sense now. We’re on the correct path,” Agatha sprang to her feet, her voice brimming with enlightenment and jubilation. She regarded Duncan, seated across from her, with an attitude that had suddenly morphed into one of sincere respect, and she proceeded to bow deeply, “I get it – thank you profusely for your insightful guidance!”

Meanwhile, Duncan continued to point at the floor, appearing slightly bemused by the bandaged woman’s sudden outburst of enthusiasm.

What exactly had she comprehended?

“We will promptly initiate the next phase of the search operation, and this time, we will surely unearth the hideout of the heretics,” Agatha, oblivious to Duncan’s bafflement, spoke with confidence. She was soon ready to depart, “I won’t consume any more of your time – please excuse my interruption. I must take my leave.”

“Uh… okay,” Duncan rose a moment too late, responding instinctively, “Take care…”

Agatha thanked him, turned around, and proceeded towards the door. Suddenly, she halted as though she had remembered something important.

Alice, who was just about to stand up to bid her farewell, almost collided with her.

Agatha cast a glance at Alice, but she didn’t seem too perturbed by the blonde woman who lacked a heartbeat and breath – it was quite common for a god-like entity to be accompanied by followers with unusual traits, nothing to be surprised about.

She shifted her gaze back to Duncan.

“I assure you, I will instruct the church’s guardians; no one will come to bother you,” Agatha stated solemnly, “I hope you enjoy your stay in Frost. If there are any new developments, I will personally come to update you.”

“Ah, well, that’s great,” Duncan responded with a chuckle. He was genuinely pleased with that, “I truly appreciate the privacy.”

Agatha nodded, then turned to exit through the door again. However, after only a couple of steps, she halted, seemingly having remembered something else.

“There’s one more thing I almost forgot.” The gatekeeper seemed slightly flustered as she touched her forehead, looking back at Duncan.

Duncan appeared puzzled, “Oh?”

After a moment of hesitation, Agatha finally voiced the question that had been plaguing her and many others for a considerable amount of time: “About the… ‘secret number’ you included at the end of your last report letter’, could you elucidate its meaning? I beg your pardon for our limited understanding; we’ve been attempting to decode it for quite some time, but we’re yet to unravel the riddle you’ve left behind.”

Duncan: “….Eh?”

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