Deep Sea Embers

Chapter 692: What the Keeper Saw

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Wrapped in a warm blanket, Ted Lir sat comfortably in a corner of the research station’s cabin, cradling a steaming cup of tea that had just been handed to him. The heat was intense, yet Ted cherished the warmth. Looking up, he expressed his gratitude with a simple, “Thank you.”

Standing opposite him, Alice replied with a bright, “You’re welcome!” She studied Ted, her expression a blend of curiosity and concern. Known as the “Keeper,” Ted had recently been dramatically rescued from the sea. After observing him briefly, she turned to Duncan, her face etched with worry, and remarked, “Captain, Mr. Ted seems quite unwell today!”

Ted overheard her and responded with slight irritation, “I fell into the sea—twice!” He raised his voice as he met Duncan’s gaze. Mid-sentence, he shivered, not from the cold but from a deep, unsettling chill. “The first time, I accidentally fell from subspace; the second, a dove forcefully ejected me!”

As he recounted the events, Ted shivered again and glanced at a plump white dove strutting confidently across the cabin floor. The dove pecked at the ground, occasionally glancing at the window and then at Ted. Abruptly, it flapped its wings as if to challenge him, “What are you looking at?”

Duncan, ever composed, suggested, “You must have somehow offended Ai. It’s unusual for her to throw people into the sea.”

Ted, feeling insulted, shot back, “Or maybe your dove is just mean?” He recalled the incident with a mix of anger and disbelief. “It seemed to mock me as it dropped me into the ocean. Everyone here heard it…”

Duncan replied, “That’s highly unlikely. Ai is a peace dove.” He pointed at the bird’s white feathers.

Puzzled by the term ‘peace dove,’ Ted struggled to find words.

Ted pondered for a moment, then conceded, “Alright, I admit it.” He elaborated, “But you can’t really blame me. I don’t know your dove. When it suddenly enveloped me with its skeletal form and pulled me into a dark space, I felt threatened and resisted…”

Lucretia, who had been quietly observing, teased, “And then the dove overpowered you and tossed you into the sea.”

Ted, growing impatient, retorted, “…Can we please change the subject from doves?”

“Fair enough,” agreed Duncan, moving to sit next to Ted. “Let’s drop the dove topic. We should discuss subspace instead.”

Ted made an awkward noise, his face reflecting disbelief at his own experiences. He took a deep breath, looking around to ground himself.

As the non-essential staff sensed the seriousness of the conversation, they quietly exited the room, leaving only Duncan, Alice, Lucretia, and Ted in the now private space.

With the room cleared, Ted relaxed slightly. “I’ve already briefed Captain Lawrence on everything I remember,” he began, his voice steadier. “The experience of subspace left a chaotic mark on my mind, blurring many memories. What I remember are fragmented glimpses of silent, massive, and strange entities. I believe you’re already somewhat aware of these details…”

Duncan nodded, his demeanor both casual and attentive. “Yes, I’ve received Lawrence’s report, but it’s always better to get details directly from you. For example, I’m particularly interested in the specific forms of what you witnessed.”

As Duncan spoke, he reached over to the adjacent table and picked up a sketch he had drawn based on Captain Lawrence’s briefing. This was done before Ted Lir had been rescued and brought back by Ai.

Ted Lir, intrigued, took the sketch from Duncan. His eyes widened in recognition as he examined the image.

The sketch depicted no grotesque or bizarre figures but showed elegant outlines of doors and windows, intricately designed columns, and flowing ironwork patterns.

Yet, for Ted, the style and feel of these architectural elements eerily reminded him of the monstrous entities he had encountered in subspace.

After pausing briefly, Ted looked up to see Duncan watching him calmly and expectantly.

“Does this represent the style you saw?” Duncan asked softly.

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Ted took a moment, then lowered his gaze back to the sketch, carefully observing the architectural details. He answered in a somber tone, “…Yes, that’s it. It was a colossal structure enveloped in darkness, like a palace but also resembling an overly intricate, sprawling mansion. It loomed above me, inverted, with spires that reminded me of the grim, black towers in the northern city-states. The doors and windows were narrow and elongated, each one covered and sealed by a thorny, dark substance…”

Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Ted continued, “The entire building was shrouded in silence, like a gigantic beast that had long since died. Yet, there were moments… flickers of dim light would appear in some windows, suggesting signs of life within. During these brief moments, the structure seemed to pulse with a semblance of life…”

As Ted recounted his experience, Duncan listened intently, his expression growing serious as he followed Ted’s description of the windows, columns, and decorative patterns.

In his mind, Duncan recognized the structure: the Alice Mansion. Although Ted had only seen its exterior, the architectural style was unmistakable.

Duncan remembered when Ray Nora had removed the “Mistress’s Bedroom,” leaving a vast emptiness behind. He had looked into this void, expecting the usual chaotic streams of light and immense shadowy figures of subspace, but found only impenetrable darkness instead. If he had seen the typical signs of subspace, he might have sooner made the connection to the mansion.

This discrepancy puzzled Duncan, leading him to wonder about what Ted had really seen in subspace. Was it merely a “projection” of the Alice Mansion? Or had something obstructed his view last time he looked out from the mansion’s great void, hiding the true nature of subspace?

Lost in thought, Duncan’s face showed deep concentration. Meanwhile, Ted, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, pressed for answers, “What exactly did I see? You seem to know something about it.”

“Familiar, yes. I often visit,” Duncan admitted with a slight nod, his tone indicating deeper knowledge. “But I would advise against delving into the details—for your own mental and physical well-being.”

Understanding the implications, Ted resigned himself to this limited explanation. “Alright, it is subspace, after all,” he conceded, his expression a mix of awe and disbelief. “By Lahem’s blessings, I never imagined I’d be discussing subspace with you… To think I went there and came back alive, it still feels like a dream.”

“You’re only now beginning to process the reality of it,” Duncan remarked casually, shifting the conversation. “You also mentioned that the huge, inverted mansion you saw transformed into something resembling a massive ship?”

Ted, thoughtful and cautious, replied, “The truth is… I’m not entirely sure what it was.” He elaborated, “Being in subspace was like navigating a maze of illusions. My mind seemed to split into two layers, one grappling with reality, the other lost in hallucination. I witnessed many things morphing into something else entirely, often instantaneously. Some of these transformations seemed real, while others felt like my brain trying to make sense of the incomprehensible.”

After a moment of reflection, Duncan slid another sheet of paper and a pencil towards Ted. “Whether it was real or illusory, can you try to draw what you saw as the mansion transformed?”

Ted hesitated briefly before accepting the drawing tools. “I’ll try,” he said, his voice reflecting a mix of determination and uncertainty.

Wrapped in his blanket, Ted approached the table and began to translate the elusive images from subspace onto paper.

Duncan watched quietly, his face serious and patient as Ted Lir drew.

Gradually, under Ted’s pen, chaotic and abstract lines began to form on the paper.

Lucretia, observing with curiosity from the side, frowned in confusion. “Is this what you describe as ‘a massive ship’?” she asked, clearly puzzled.

What she saw were random lines connecting into an abstract geometric shape, resembling a rough spindle or an asymmetrical cylinder—far from any traditional idea of a “ship.”

In the brief moment after Ted’s sketching, Lucretia noticed a significant change in Duncan’s expression. His already serious face grew even more intense as he examined the abstract patterns Ted had drawn. She wondered if her father might recognize something in these seemingly random lines.

Has he seen something like this before?

Questions and confusion whirled in Lucretia’s mind, but before she could speak, Ted set down his pencil, indicating he had finished his drawing.

“I realize this doesn’t look like a traditional ‘ship,'” Ted said, turning to Lucretia with a sincere expression. “But when I saw it in subspace, there was this undeniable feeling, a conviction that it was some sort of ‘ship.'” He searched for the right words. “It’s difficult to explain—it felt like a form of ‘cognition’ imprinted directly in my mind, almost like a ‘revelation’…”

Meanwhile, Duncan remained focused on the chaotic lines on the paper as if trying to decode a secret message. After a moment of intense scrutiny, he looked up and asked, “…Is this the complete drawing?”

Ted nodded: “Yes, it’s finished.”

Duncan’s expression deepened, a furrow appearing on his brow as he digested the information. “Is this all? Just this part?” he asked with a hint of urgency.

Ted, sensing Duncan’s concern, hesitated. “What I saw was… only this part. Is something missing?”

After a few seconds of silence, Duncan leaned in closer, pointing at the pattern on the paper. “I’m not entirely sure… but based on what you’ve drawn, it might only represent a fraction of the entire structure,” he speculated with increasing intensity. “Perhaps as little as one-third!”