Deep Sea Embers

Chapter 684: Vanished in the Dusk

Once again, Duncan and his companions witnessed the sudden and disturbing disappearance of the sun.

This mysterious event unfolded suddenly, accompanied by an eerie, deep rumbling. The sun, just before setting, abruptly dimmed and transformed into a nightmarish black void in the sky. Surrounding it were two mystical rings glowing like captured sunlight, casting a haunting light around the dark center. From these rings, a faint and fluctuating light spilled over, casting a dim and surreal glow where the sky met the sea, enhancing the ominous atmosphere.

As darkness enveloped the sea, a peculiar structure near Wind Harbor, known as the “luminous geometric body,” continued to emit a sunlight-like radiance, providing limited visibility over the ocean. This light softly danced on the water, offering a slight reprieve in the strange and daunting darkness.

Shirley stood in shock, speechless, staring at the horizon, her mind unable to comprehend the situation. Fortunately, Nina was by her side and quickly overcame her shock, comforting her, “Don’t worry, this isn’t your fault…”

“That’s obvious! I know it’s not because of me!” Shirley snapped back, her voice a mixture of fear and frustration. She then turned to Duncan for guidance, “Captain, what should we do now?”

Duncan did not respond immediately. He was focused on Wind Harbor, illuminated by the light from the luminous geometric body, observing the distant scenery where Wind Harbor’s coastline and the nearby Grand Storm Cathedral were visible. Although the other three Arks were partly obscured, it was clear they were still in place.

“So, this is the ‘Sun’s Extinguishment’…” Lune murmured, absorbing the shock, “I never thought I’d witness such an event…”

Banster, somber and thoughtful, focused on the dark void above the sea. Breaking the silence with his deep, reflective voice, he said, “The Spirit Realm’s aura is fluctuating, but the World’s Creation hasn’t started prematurely.”

Duncan then addressed the Popes, recalling earlier discussions, “During the last ‘Sun’s Extinguishment’, none of the four Arks knew of the event, correct?”

“Yes,” Lune confirmed with a nod, “Based on your reports, the world, including us, missed those 12 hours, oblivious to the disappearance of the sun. Without subsequent reports from Wind Harbor, Frost, and Pland, we would’ve remained unaware.”

Duncan nodded, still focused on the city, “But this time, you’ve seen it yourselves, and your Arks are here. Everyone has witnessed it.”

“What could be the underlying reason for this?” Lune pondered, his eyes on the massive luminous geometric body on the sea, deep in thought, “Could it be because the four Arks are now within the protective range of ‘that thing’?”

“It’s likely that this strange luminous geometric body plays a part. Pland, Frost, and Wind Harbor, each a city-state that persisted during the sun’s disappearance, have their unique characteristics. Particularly, Wind Harbor is always enveloped in this strange ‘sunlight’,” Duncan agreed, nodding. “However, now is not the time for in-depth discussions. We need to check on the four Arks—Also, Lucy, can we establish communication with the city now?”

Lucretia, ready with an answer, responded, “We have radio capabilities on the Bright Star, and we’ve already contacted Wind Harbor. The city-state has activated its emergency alarm. The security forces and truth guardians are mobilizing to maintain order. We shouldn’t face immediate concerns.”

“Keeping order might not be our biggest challenge, but panic is inevitable—and this time, the panic will be different from before,” Vanna noted, her voice filled with concern. “Recall that shortly after the last sun’s disappearance, the ‘Nameless Dream’ appeared…”

Her words cast a somber tone across the deck, as everyone’s expressions, under the dim sky, mirrored a mix of seriousness and anxiety.

The four Popes acted immediately, contacting their respective Arks to assess the situation. They coordinated with the priests aboard to maintain order, gather intelligence, and monitor developments. They also sent priests from each Ark to Wind Harbor to help manage the city’s security and calm its residents.

Meanwhile, Duncan and his companions headed to the central deck area, where they found the bishops in mild disarray.

These bishops had left their meeting early and were still adjusting to the unexpected environment of the Vanished, its unique “living beings,” and the ship’s enigmatic “rules.” They had hoped to relax with snacks on the deck post-meeting but were suddenly thrown into darkness by the sun’s disappearance, a situation no one had briefed them on.

Despite their emergency “training” and the “common knowledge” acquired aboard, some bishops initially mistook the sun’s disappearance for another “natural vision” typical of the Vanished. When Duncan and his group arrived, many bishops were casually discussing the premature onset of night on the Vanished.

After a flurry of swift communications and clarifications, everyone understood the severity of the situation and order was quickly restored amid the initial confusion.

With the faint sky and distant weak “sunlight” above, the Vanished and Bright Star picked up speed towards the coastline of Wind Harbor, prepared for the challenges that lay ahead.

…

In the upper observation room of a semi-permanent floating island research station near the enigmatic luminous geometric body, Ted Lir and a group of scholars focused on a radio device. The solemn atmosphere intensified as the radio relayed the latest updates from the city-state.

The sudden disappearance of the sun had initially caused widespread panic throughout the city. However, the quick actions of the security forces and guardians soon brought the situation under control. Martial law was declared across major districts, key roads were blocked, emergency shelters were opened, and gas lights were lit early to mitigate the sudden darkness. The sound of the Academy’s bells offered a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos.

Thankfully, there were no signs of supernatural contamination in the city’s districts, nor reports of mental pollution or transformations among the people.

This time, Wind Harbor was much better prepared for the “Sun’s Extinguishment,” helping to prevent many potential losses and chaos.

However, the dark shadow of the past lingered. The “Sun’s Extinguishment” revived haunting memories of the “Nameless Dream,” a terrifying event that had deeply impacted the city-state. Although order was quickly restored, an underlying current of panic and fear was growing among the people, driven by anxiety about what might follow this event.

Ted Lir recognized that this escalating fear was a significant concern. It was an uncontrollable factor that couldn’t be ignored, a sentiment that could simmer beneath the surface until the crisis was resolved or evolved into a more severe problem.

There was also another concern.

Ted’s expression grew serious as he glanced at a machine at the room’s end. The machine, a recorder, emitted a rhythmic creaking as its gears moved a steel needle swiftly back and forth across a rail. It ejected a continuous stream of paper tape, marked with trembling black lines representing incomprehensible data.

The transmission pattern was odd: twelve seconds of activity repeated thrice, followed by a thirty-second pause, and then resuming.

Connected to the recorder, at the window’s end, was a sophisticated optical instrument.

One of the scholars next to Ted Lir broke the silence, “The light signals from the luminous body are still ongoing, and there was a notable increase when the sun went out. The intensity of these signals has now exceeded any levels we’ve previously recorded. Also, a backup device at the upper observation station has picked up a very faint signal, identical to the one we are receiving here. Interestingly, this backup device is pointed towards the now-extinguished sun.”

“…Clearly, there is a complex system at work here, involving both the sun and the luminous geometric body that descended to our realm. Although they appear separate, they are somehow connected,” another scholar pondered. “Our attempts to decode these phenomena haven’t been successful yet. It would be tremendously helpful if these signals could provide some new data for us to analyze and cross-reference.”

Another update shifted their focus, “The high tower in the city has just sent a message confirming that the sun’s movement has stopped. It’s now stationary, hovering near sea level, and hasn’t moved further down for the last half-hour…”

This prompted a quick, anxious question, “No one has tried to directly observe the sun from the high tower again, have they?!”

The answer came quickly and reassuringly, “No, all observations are being made automatically by our equipment. The data is then interpreted indirectly. Since the last incident, the Academy has strictly forbidden direct observation of the sun under these conditions…”

During these discussions, Ted Lir, deep in thought, stayed quiet, his brow furrowed. After a long pause, he suddenly spoke, “I need to return to the city-state.”

A scholar quickly supported his decision, “…Indeed, your presence is needed there to help maintain order. Leave this place to us. Rest assured, the observation station will keep running smoothly, and we’ll make sure no data is missed.”

Ted Lir gave a silent nod to his colleagues, acknowledging their expertise and reliability. He then opened his “Book of Miracles,” a book filled with various spells and arcane knowledge. He turned to the section titled “The Door” and gently tapped his finger on the page.

Responding to his touch, a phantom door emerged from the pages of the book, quickly materializing in front of him, and silently swung open.

Taking a deep breath, Ted Lir stepped towards the mystical doorway.

Instantly, he was swallowed by an abyss of darkness and chaos—yet he did not arrive at Wind Harbor as he had expected.