Deep Sea Embers

The image of Martha materialized in the small handheld mirror Lawrence always carried. She was surrounded by a swirling abyss of dense black fog, her ethereal voice reaching his ears: “Can you perceive the luminescence in the far-off distance?”

“I can,” Lawrence affirmed with a nod, craning his neck upwards to take in the sight before him. A colossal expanse of ebony shadows hovered over the sea, their shape bearing a loose resemblance to a metropolis’s skyline but lacking any clear, distinguishing details. The water below mirrored the radiant lights from the docks and various structures at the periphery of the city. Their vessel, the White Oak, was steadily advancing towards this bewildering display of light and shadow, with no visible person guiding its course. Numerous ghostly apparitions of ships seemed to float on the distant sea’s surface as if caught in the throes of a brutal naval battle. In this tumultuous tableau of light and shadow, reality and illusion, he felt an eerie sense of his own self becoming spectral. “Such an inconceivable sight… So this is how the world appears from the perspective within the mirror…”

“In your vision, the light and shadow are inverted, but in my sight, it’s a perfectly normal scene. However, this will soon change again,” Martha said, a soft smile gently curving her lips. “Prepare yourself. We will be docking shortly. The location is a deserted pier at the southernmost edge of the east dock. I will maneuver the ship as close as I can to an entry point for sewer maintenance. Make sure to bring your mirror. I will guide you through to the Second Waterway.”

“Upon our arrival… the other forged entities will respond, won’t they?” Lawrence couldn’t suppress his anxiety, “If we’re unable to fend them off, you must retreat with the White Oak and Black Oak first. At the rate we’re going, those fabrications certainly won’t be able to halt our advance.”

Martha rolled her eyes: “Obviously, I’m not an idiot. My mission is simply to transport you here and buy us some time. I don’t intend to obliterate the entirety of the counterfeit naval fleet with just our phantom twin ships. They’re invincible; they can’t be fully defeated.”

With this understanding, Lawrence nodded, then turned to look behind him.

Anomaly 077 was crouched on the deck, amusing himself with a rope he’d found somewhere. Occasionally, he would glance upwards at the White Oak’s chimney and flagpole, his expression one of profound puzzlement.

“Do people from your era no longer string up wayward sailors from the mast?” the mummy queried, sounding somewhat doubtful.

“Are you still obsessing over your hangman’s knot?” Lawrence responded immediately, his tone brusque, “Put down that rope, go find the first mate for a cutlass and some ammunition. We’re preparing to disembark.”

“I used to just slip on the noose and doze off. Why doesn’t it work now…” Anomaly 077 continued to grumble, sounding perplexed, then suddenly realized, “Ah? Disembarking?! Are you dragging me along again?”

“It seems apt to employ a supernatural anomaly to tackle an eccentric city-state,” Lawrence stated in a stern tone, “We’re set to infiltrate the core of Frost through the Second Waterway. Don’t dawdle and go arm yourself.”

Caught off guard by the command, Sailor stood frozen for a moment before he promptly rose to his feet: “Aye, Captain!”

The White Oak was slowly encroaching upon the reverse darkness, inching closer to the shimmering lights dancing on the sea’s surface. A formidable landing team had assembled on deck, standing resolute behind Lawrence.

However, First Mate Gus was conspicuously absent from the gathering because Lawrence had assigned him the task of staying aboard the ship.

With a somber air, the seasoned captain gave his orders, “An intense battle looms on the horizon. The forged warships lying in wait near the port will react and launch an attack on the White Oak and Black Oak. You need to remain on the ship, guiding our defensive efforts. Prolong the engagement for as long as possible. If the situation turns dire, retreat with Marsha.”

“I understand,” Gus responded with a nod, though he couldn’t help but cast a worried glance at the “Sailor” who was trying to familiarize himself with his newly procured weapon behind Lawrence, “But… is he genuinely reliable?”

Lawrence turned to look back, and Anomaly 077 – Sailor – also raised his gaze to meet the old captain’s. The mummy had a cutlass fastened at his waist, but he tossed the rifle and ammunition bag he was holding onto a nearby barrel, grumbling, “I’m perfectly fine with just the cutlass. I haven’t the foggiest idea of how to use this contraption.”

“Suit yourself, if you’re confident a cutlass is all you need to navigate the mirrored city’s Second Waterway,” Lawrence responded nonchalantly, “A person who doesn’t know how to operate a firearm could indeed cause more harm than good with one.”

The Sailor pondered for a moment, deciding against the rifle, but approached the weapons crate placed nearby and retrieved another cutlass to strap onto his belt.

Lawrence refrained from commenting, merely lowering his gaze to study his own hand as he opened and closed them. Then, with some difficulty while regulating his breath, he attempted to visualize a blazing phantom ship in his mind, recollecting the sensation of being engulfed in flames and the subsequent transformation that ensued.

After a moment, he noticed a faint glow of green weaving through the lines on his palm as though small flames were gently flowing along those routes.

The deck beneath him started to vibrate subtly as the White Oak initiated its braking procedure. The nebulous darkness outside the hull was now within reach, and Marsha’s voice echoed from the small mirror fastened to his chest: “Attention, we are about to dock. Once we have, I will reverse the images again and dispel the twin projection. You need to disembark from the left and proceed straight ahead. I will guide your path.”

“I’m ready.” Lawrence exhaled softly, gradually making his way towards the ship’s edge.

“I’m ready as well!” Anomaly 077 declared, trailing closely behind the captain. His hoarse and solemn voice was laced with a palpable sense of excitement and anticipation, “Land ahoy! Prepare for combat! The pirates are descending!”

“We’re not pirates,” Lawrence retorted, glancing back at the mummy, “We are honorable sailors.”

“Docking imminent,” Marsha’s voice resonated almost instantaneously from the mirror, “Three, two, one… Invert!”

Suddenly, the world around Lawrence seemed to convulse, light and shadow oscillating wildly, reality and illusion switching places.

The environment around Lawrence seemed to flicker and waver. Then, in a split second, the reflections in the sea ascended, and the darkness confronting him receded as though he had passed through an unseen mirror in an instant. The frost-bitten docks and piers surfaced before him, and the damp, chilly sensations that clung to him as if he were drenched in seawater evaporated instantly!

The following second, he spotted a shadow taking form on the sea’s surface adjacent to the White Oak, the silhouette of the Black Oak emerging from the shadow rapidly.

Following the inversion of light and shadow, the Black Oak simultaneously discarded its mirrored state along with the White Oak, appearing on the sea’s surface as a twin ship ready to battle alongside its counterpart.

Columns of light pierced the sky from the dock instantaneously, sirens blared from distant streets and alleys, frenzied gusts of wind whirled in the port, and the thunderous sounds of ship cannons reverberated from afar, creating an atmosphere of tumultuous chaos.

Had the reaction been this instantaneous?!

A surge of surprise flashed through Lawrence’s mind, but he responded rapidly. He thrust the rope ladder down and was the first to charge forth: “Advance!”

The landing party, a contingent of a dozen or so proficient sailors, surged onto the dock and adhered to the path marked out by Martha, moving towards a distant junction. As was only fitting, Lawrence spearheaded the group.

The biting wind howled in his ears, and the distant sirens and gunfire echoed with a distorted, sporadic rhythm. Beneath the tumultuous, dim-lit sky, Lawrence sprinted fervently through this ghostly city distorted by mirrors, a revolver clutched in one hand and a sword in the other.

Martha’s voice continued to guide him: “Turn left at the upcoming intersection, circumvent the guard post… press forward, take the alley to the right, the entrance lies at the end…”

Behind him was the chaotic cadence of the sailors’ hasty footsteps. In his hands, reliable armaments. In his ears, the seamless voice of his beloved.

As Lawrence ran, his speed increased as if the fatigue and exhaustion amassed over decades had evaporated from his body. He could feel his heart pounding with the vivacity of his youth, blood pulsating through his veins with the vigor of his prime years.

He had returned to his glorious heydays!

He strode forward, swinging his arms, and a ghostly green flame flickered into existence behind him. As he moved, green flames began to adorn each sailor around and behind him, casting spectral illusions onto their tangible bodies.

Anomaly 077’s voice heightened into a cry: “Captain! I’m terrified!”

“Stay with the team if you’re scared!” Lawrence retorted, grinning widely, his voice brimming with an indescribable sense of delight, “This city can’t hold us back!”

As Anomaly 077 sprinted alongside Lawrence, he continued to cry out: “What frightens me is you all!”

“Well, then you’d better adjust, because neither I nor you are retiring anytime soon!”

Lawrence retorted boisterously, perhaps even joyfully, unperturbed by the fact that his loud voice might expose their location or that his gleeful run through the streets might attract the city’s “guards”. Because, from the very outset, this mission was never about “infiltration” or stealth – their presence was detected the instant they set foot in the mirror city.

“The streets are becoming increasingly foggy!” he shouted, observing the intensifying mist, “Martha, is this normal?”

“The fog signals a threshold. Continue moving forward and ignore the fog leaking in from the real world. The destination is just ahead.”

“Understood!” Lawrence responded with robust enthusiasm, directing the sailors towards the encroaching whiteness. As they ventured deeper into the mist, a multitude of grotesque figures began to rise. They possessed distorted bodies and an irregular number of eyes. They roared and mumbled incoherently within their viel, staggering forward ominously.

Lawrence prepared to raise his gun, but before he and the sailors could even pull the trigger, a flurry of rapid gunfire echoed from the other end.

Suddenly, a mechanical behemoth resembling a gargantuan spider emerged from the white cloak, and city soldiers, armed to the teeth, hastily constructed a line around the towering creature. The rifles in their hands and the formidable gun turret mounted on top of the mechanical beast spat out incandescent flames, immediately ripping the advancing monsters to pieces.

Lawrence sprinted past the periphery of this sudden combat zone, gazing in astonishment at the newly materialized city defenders. However, just as quickly as they had appeared, the soldiers and the mechanized behemoth vanished back into the dense whiteness, leaving only a pile of chaotic rubble in their wake.

“We’ve arrived, this is the sewer entrance. Follow it till the end, and you’ll find an elevator that leads straight to the Second Waterway!”

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