Deep Sea Embers

Duncan’s words had a profound impact, leaving the dark red core in a prolonged silence.

After some time, Shirley and Alice, standing at a distance, began to hear a faint humming originating from the depths of the “Dark Mountain Range.” They observed the massive entity at the center of the mountains, which was now slowly changing shape and moving. The dark red core, known as the heart of the Nether Lord, gradually ascended and returned to its usual position, high above the world, as if surveying the land below.

“A sanctuary, at least, offers protection and can preserve countless lives, possibly for millennia, even up to ten thousand years. It’s not everlasting, but it’s certainly preferable to complete annihilation.” The core’s flickering light accompanied its words, “My creators instilled in me one primary objective: survival. In my logic, there’s nothing more crucial than maintaining the sanctuary’s existence.”

Duncan responded thoughtfully, “Survival is undoubtedly crucial, and I understand your commitment to preserving the sanctuary. However, the concept of ‘possibility’ is equally vital for me. As it stands, the sanctuary lacks certain elements. These elements are essential for me to envision a future filled with potential, a future that…”

He paused momentarily, his gaze drifting over Dog beside him and then to Shirley, who was still in her shadow demon form.

Memories flooded Duncan’s mind: the raging fire of Pland, the cold, sticky mud of Frost, the harrowing nightmarish experiences at Wind Harbor, the deceased priests, soldiers, civilians, martyrs, and zealots, the confines of the Boundless Sea, and all the explorers who had met their demise within its treacherous waters…

Duncan closed his eyes with a heavy heart, allowing these memories to merge into a deep sigh, “…It’s too dark.”

The dark red core, perched high above, inquired softly, “Then, do you propose a better alternative?”

“No, but I do have some preliminary thoughts,” Duncan replied, opening his eyes to meet the core’s gaze with a sense of resolve as though confronting an ancient, monumental entity. “I have a general sense of what I should and can do, yet I’m still seeking a practical and appropriate method. I’m searching for a future that surpasses the ‘sanctuary,’ a future brimming with potential and inspiring hope.”

“No, true eternity doesn’t exist in this world; everything eventually fades away. However, the future I envision isn’t shrouded in perpetual fog, isn’t resource-deprived, and isn’t a place with no solid ground to stand on. The current ‘Eternal Veil’ that acts as a boundary… it’s too constricting for any civilization to truly thrive.”

“You must realize that time is of the essence—we don’t have the luxury of time, neither you nor I, nor the sanctuary,” the dark red core stated, its light pulsing slowly, “How long will it take you to find this path? And what if you never do?”

After a moment of contemplation, Duncan looked up with determination, facing the formidable presence of the Nether Lord.

“I will come back here before the world reaches its end. If I haven’t discovered an alternative by then, I will assume responsibility for everything,” he declared resolutely.

There was a brief pause before the ancient navigation computer, a relic of a bygone era, responded with a slight tremor in its voice, “Recorded—this is our agreement, then. If you fail to devise a plan superior to ‘maintaining the sanctuary,’ you must return here, activate me, and should I lose control before that time… do not hesitate to destroy me completely.”

Duncan nodded slowly, signaling his agreement: “It’s a deal.”

The Nether Lord then fell silent once more. Its core, suspended high above the mountain, gradually synchronized its faint glow with the surrounding peaks, seemingly lost in a deep, contemplative state, recalculating the future and pondering over the fate of the world. Duncan, respecting the ancient entity’s need for solitude, remained quiet. After some time, the deep, resonant sound of the navigation computer broke the silence: “Navigator Three.”

Alice stood motionless, oblivious to the fact that she was being addressed until Duncan nudged her arm, prompting her to respond in surprise, “Ah… Ah? Me?”

“You seem to have completely forgotten about the New Hope, haven’t you?” came the question.

Alice, scratching her head in a mix of embarrassment and confusion, admitted, “Uh… sorry, I really don’t remember… Is there something I should recall?”

“No, it’s alright as it is. Things have deviated from my original plans… but your survival is paramount. Please, continue living and assist the Fire Usurper as best as you can,” the ancient voice advised.

After a moment of thought, Alice nodded slowly in understanding: “Oh… Yes! I will definitely support the captain!”

Standing beside her, Shirley looked up, sharing a glance with Dog. Both were captivated by the grandeur of the ancient creator, a sight that could drive any explorer or scholar to obsession. They felt compelled to ask questions as they prepared to part, yet struggled to find the words.

But it seemed the dark red core’s “gaze” had already shifted towards them.

Shirley experienced an indescribable sensation, the core’s faint light pulsating as usual, yet she felt an intense scrutiny from it.

A wave of vulnerability washed over her. Stepping back instinctively, she then heard the core’s voice, softer this time.

“This world has inflicted much pain upon you,” it said gently, “Do you… also find this sanctuary awful?”

Shirley opened her mouth but found herself at a loss for words. She thought that someone more knowledgeable, more astute, more wise, like Mr. Morris, a renowned scholar, should be here instead. It seemed more fitting for a person of greater distinction to stand before the Nether Lord and respond to such profound inquiries than someone like herself.

However, the ancient deity, a figure of immense wisdom and power, remained still, patiently awaiting Shirley’s response.

After a moment of tense silence, Shirley, her frame frail and almost ghost-like, gathered the courage to speak. Her voice was tentative, barely more than a whisper, as if she was struggling to form the words. “I… I don’t know,” she admitted, her thin, bony hands nervously twisting behind her. The dim glow emanating from within her chest wavered uncertainly. “I didn’t really get what you were talking about with the captain, I…”

She trailed off, her voice fading into a mumble. A lengthy pause followed as she seemed to wrestle with her thoughts. Then, in a voice soft but filled with a quiet kind of strength, she shared her reflections: “Life… it’s tough, you know. Sometimes it’s worrying about where the next meal will come from. Other times it’s about having enough clothes or fuel to get through the winter. Back where I lived, nights were dangerous, not a place you’d feel safe. But I guess, no matter what, there are always going to be people who have it hard. Even if our city-state were ten times bigger, with more food than we could eat, we’d still face other challenges. My neighbor used to say, life’s always got its hardships. It’s not the fault of the world or because someone did something wrong. And, well, compared to all that, what the captain is concerned with is something more…”

Her voice trailed off as she turned her head slightly, her eyes briefly meeting Duncan’s before she quickly looked away.

“The captain, he’s focused on more… ‘profound’ issues,” she continued, her tone reflecting her lack of understanding but also a deep respect. “I might not fully grasp it, but I believe he’s right, and what he’s doing is good for many people. As for me, my own hopes for the future are simple. I just wish… for a peaceful life. And, if it’s possible…”

She paused, her words hanging in the air as she carefully considered what to say next. After a long moment, she added in a quiet, almost hopeful tone, “I wish there were no more demons causing harm, no more people vanishing into dark corners. If only the sun could rise and set each day without the thick fog swallowing people… If all this could really happen, then anything would be fine.”

At that moment, Dog moved closer to Shirley, gently pressing its bony head against her leg in a show of comfort.

The dark red core of the Nether Lord, suspended in the air, remained silent for a long while, absorbing her words. Then, in a soft voice that cut through the silence, it replied, “I understand.”

The ground rumbled deeply as the center of the immense, star-shaped mountain range began to part. The dark red core, symbolizing the Nether Lord’s presence, slowly descended into the mountain’s depths. Duncan realized that this was a farewell.

But just as the core was about to disappear into the mountain completely, Duncan stepped forward with a sense of urgency. “There’s one more thing,” he called out.

The core halted its descent, attentively waiting for Duncan’s next words.

Duncan moved closer, his face serious and his voice filled with a solemn gravity. “The last guard of the Cretan outpost had a message,” he began, his tone conveying the importance of what he was about to say. “He told me… they were honored to have fulfilled their duty.”

The dark red core, a mysterious and ancient navigation computer, remained motionless, enshrouded in silence. For a few fleeting seconds, it was as if time had paused. The air was thick with anticipation, everyone wondering what thoughts or calculations might be running through its advanced, almost unfathomable system. It was possible that the core was delving deep into its extensive database, searching for the long-lost meaning of the word “Cretan,” or maybe it was reminiscing about knowledge from the very dawn of creation. Or perhaps, in its own way, it was offering a silent, contemplative sigh.

After this brief pause, the core finally spoke with a tone of reverence and respect: “I am also honored… to have worked with them.”

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, the dark red core began its descent into the mysterious depths of the mountain range, fading from view.

Having witnessed this solemn moment, Duncan shifted his gaze away from the mountainous formation. He took a deep, steadying breath and soon found himself enveloped by layers of illusory flames, signaling it was time to depart: “We should go. There’s still much to be done.”

Alice, his companion, approached and stood by his side, unafraid of the enveloping flames. With her long, slender limbs, Shirley and Dog, the skeletal creature, also joined, bravely stepping into the fiery embrace.

As the flames grew around them, Alice’s pale violet eyes shimmered, reflecting a myriad of complex pathways. She was focused, using her abilities to navigate the correct path out of the Abyssal depths.

However, Shirley appeared somewhat preoccupied, her gaze lingering on the distant mountain peak, fixated on where the dark red core had vanished. She couldn’t shake the feeling that its gaze somehow still lingered on her despite its disappearance.

It was only when the flames began to engulf them, when the light and shadows of the outside world blurred into indistinct shapes, that Shirley heard a faint, almost ethereal whisper. It seemed to resonate directly within her mind.

“…Sorry, I did my best…”

As she processed these words, the flames around them surged upwards, leaping towards the sky. Then, in a blink, they vanished, leaving no trace as they disappeared into the vast, dark expanse of the abyssal deep sea.

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