To be fair, Vanna had rarely been afraid of anything throughout her life, but Captain Duncan Abnomar always seemed to bring her a variety of “unexpected situations.”
In the dream-locked room, there was a boundless dark sea outside the window, an eerie light hovering high in the sky, and beneath the quiet night, someone knocked on the door.
Almost instinctively, Vanna wanted to summon her broadsword in her dream and charge toward the door – luckily, she managed to control this impulse just in time.
“Knock, knock, knock.”
The knocking continued at a leisurely pace, with great patience and politeness.
Taking several deep breaths, Vanna wasn’t sure what expression to wear, so she could only try to make her voice sound normal while keeping a straight face: “Come in.”
With a click, the handle turned, and the dark wooden door was pushed open from the outside. A tall and imposing figure appeared before Vanna and stepped into the room.
Behind this figure lay pure darkness as if it were the edge of the dream – beyond the edge, there was no existence, only the “void.”
“Good afternoon, Vanna – this time, I knocked.” Duncan entered the room, giving Vanna a friendly smile.
Vanna silently watched the ghostly captain walk to the nearby liquor cabinet, taking out a bottle and two wine glasses before taking a seat on the chair with the backrest.
“Why don’t you come sit?” Duncan raised his eyebrows and glanced at the young inquisitor still standing near the window, gesturing to the empty seat across from him. “You don’t look too happy.”
After hesitating for a moment, Vanna finally sat down across from Duncan with a peculiar expression, cautiously observing his every move as he poured the drinks. After a while, she sighed, “Don’t you think this is even scarier?”
“Is it?” Duncan looked at Vanna with some surprise, then glanced around the dream he had painstakingly created – the cozy, everyday décor, and the friendly glass of wine in his hand – and furrowed his brow uncertainly. “Then next time, I’ll try a brighter color scheme…”
“I don’t think it’s the color…” Vanna’s eyebrows twitched, but she sighed with mixed emotions immediately after, “Well, at least I do feel your ‘good intentions’… They’re somewhat scary, but I can more or less confirm their authenticity.”
Duncan pushed a glass of wine toward her, “Seems like a good thing.”
“Thank you,” Vanna took the glass, hesitated as she looked at the clear liquid with a hint of golden red, and after a long pause, she set it aside. Then she looked up at the captain across from her, “Is this another dream – a room on the Vanished?”
“It’s partly based on that, but not entirely. I’ve arranged it according to my personal preferences,” Duncan said unhurriedly. “Actually, I’m not very good at weaving dreams. I prefer entering existing dreams directly, but since you were sleeping restlessly, with shattered and chaotic dreams, I prepared a place for you to rest properly.”
Vanna didn’t pay attention to Duncan’s last sentence; she simply turned her head to look outside the window and asked her biggest question, “What is that glowing thing in the sky outside? Is it also your ‘personal preference’?”
Duncan fell silent for a moment, his gaze shifting to the window. Illuminated by the moonlight, he pondered for a while before sighing and shaking his head, “I suppose so. I don’t really like the pale, cold glow of the World’s Creation; it’s not gentle enough, and it feels full of malice. As for the one you see now… you can call it the ‘moon.'”
“‘Moon’…” Vanna repeated the unfamiliar word, which seemed to be a direct transliteration from an unknown language, “It’s a peculiar name.”
“Are you interested in it?” Duncan asked with a smile, “I can tell you the story behind the name…”
Before he could finish, Vanna suddenly interrupted, “No! Thank you!”
“…Alright, it’s always like this,” Duncan shrugged, not seeming to care, “It’s actually just the most ordinary thing, with no connection to subspace at all.”
“I’m sorry, I believe you’re friendly, but… just consider me cautious,” Vanna said awkwardly. After numerous encounters and a series of events, her caution and wariness towards the ghostly captain had somewhat evolved, but in any case, even from a logical and rational perspective, she didn’t dare to casually learn “knowledge” from this subspace returnee, “Let’s talk about something else. Why did you come to see me?”
“Two things,” Duncan looked into Vanna’s eyes, “First, thank you for taking care of Tyrian these past couple of days. He seems to have enjoyed his time in Pland.”
“Captain Tyrian?” Vanna felt a jolt in her heart, suddenly realizing something, “Have you been watching all this time?”
“Yes, I’ve been keeping an eye on this matter,” Duncan said with emotion, “He’s been wandering in the north for years, picking up some bad habits from the pirates, and only has a group of undead sailors for company, making his social habits extremely unhealthy. Add to that the old matter of Frost, it’s hard not to worry about his mental state. To avoid becoming a reclusive, eccentric, and cynical weirdo, he needs some healthy and orderly interpersonal relationships…”
Duncan was essentially improvising to further solidify his image as someone who had regained his humanity and clear-headedness, to facilitate his dealings with Vanna and the “orderly civilization” she represented. However, Vanna didn’t dismiss it as nonsense. She listened intently to the ghostly captain, who sounded like a concerned father, and after a while, she managed to say, “You… really care about him…”
Duncan said solemnly, “Caring for family members is the first step in maintaining harmony within the family.”
“…But you almost blew the Sea Mist into a pile of scrap metal,” Vanna cautiously reminded him.
Duncan remained serious, “Appropriate education and guidance is the second step.”
Vanna: “…”
The conversation was strange, discordant, and full of peculiarities. Vanna increasingly felt that her interaction with Captain Duncan was imbued with an indescribable sense of oddness. Yet, inexplicably, it was within this bizarre and incongruous exchange that she actually began to see the ghostly captain as more “human.”
She couldn’t help but shake her head, setting that sudden thought aside for now, “What’s the second thing you mentioned?”
“The second thing,” Duncan’s expression immediately became more serious, “is about the sun. Have you noticed the changes in it?”
The sound of waves outside the window gradually softened as if they were distant whispers, and the breeze that drifted into the room became barely perceptible.
Upon hearing the mention of “the sun,” Vanna’s eyes shifted slightly: “Are you referring to the sunrise that was delayed by fifteen minutes, or…”
“There is a gap in its external rune ring,” Duncan said, “Judging by your expression, you should have noticed it as well.”
Vanna fell silent for a couple of seconds before nodding gently, “It’s hard not to notice – although the gap is difficult to detect with the naked eye, vigilant eyes have been watching the operation of Vision 001 for centuries. The church noticed this unsettling situation right away.”
“Guardians never let their guard down, huh… My impression of you has improved slightly,” Duncan said, then suddenly asked, “So what’s your take on this?”
“…That would depend on the feedback from the Grand Storm Cathedral,” Vanna said in a matter-of-fact tone, “All we can do in Pland is report what we’ve observed. We are not a research facility, and we can’t think of any way to intervene in the operation of Vision 001.”
After pondering for a moment, she shook her head uncertainly, “Perhaps even the Grand Storm Cathedral won’t provide clear feedback. Vision 001… its operation affects the entire world, and its abnormalities have alarmed more than just one church.”
As she spoke, Vanna seemed to suddenly realize something and looked up at Duncan, “You’ve come to talk to me about this. Do you know something? Do you know what’s wrong with Vision 001?”
Duncan didn’t answer immediately.
He couldn’t help but recall the brief, strange dream he’d had.
In the dream, massive light bodies fell like a meteor shower, and the entire world gradually turned dark. In the end, all that remained in the sky was a horrifying, dark emptiness, like a void or a dying eye.
At the time, he hadn’t gleaned anything from this dream, but now, he seemed to get a glimpse into the omen hidden within it.
“I can’t be sure, Vanna,” he finally broke the silence, calmly staring into her eyes, “But I think this is just the beginning.”
A chill spread slowly down her spine as Vanna discerned some extremely unsettling information from those words, “Just the beginning?”
“Right now, I don’t have enough evidence, but my guess is that Vision 001 actually has a ‘lifespan,'” Duncan said seriously, “What the ancient Kingdom of Crete left for future generations is not eternal protection but temporary peace. The sun above our heads… is likely about to fail.
“As for when the evidence will arrive…”
Duncan paused, then continued:
“Perhaps huge fragments will fall from the sky, and that will be the ticking of the countdown.
“More likely, the first fragment has already fallen, just out of sight of the civilized world.”
As the chill and unease spread in her heart, Vanna’s eyes drooped, hiding all the changes in her gaze, while her hand slowly picked up the wine glass beside her, unconsciously bringing it to her lips, seemingly trying to calm herself with alcohol.
She took a sip, frowned slightly, and looked up at Duncan, “It has no taste…”
“Of course there’s no taste,” Duncan laughed and raised his glass slightly to Vanna, “Because you’re about to wake up.”
Vanna abruptly opened her eyes, finding herself still sitting in the moving steam car with the high tower and main building of the cathedral appearing in her view.
Breathing a bit heavily, she heard a subordinate’s voice from the front, “Ah, you’re awake. Perfect timing, we’re nearly at the cathedral.”
