“Our world’s entire recorded history, as we comprehend it, traces its roots back to a critical juncture known as the Great Annihilation, an event of monumental significance that occurred long ago. However, the Great Annihilation isn’t merely an event marking a change in historical trajectory. It’s much more profound, representing a distinct demarcation line in the chronicles of time, a stringent boundary that effectively bisects the flow of history into two distinct periods.”
“The eras preceding this disastrous event are shrouded in mystery, remaining unknowable even to the most erudite and tenacious archaeologists. Despite their meticulous explorations and intellectual expertise, these scholars have failed to excavate any significant knowledge about the world before the cataclysm known as the ‘Great Annihilation’. Our world lacks any historical artifacts, archives, or even simple etchings on stone that could potentially provide some illumination on this pre-Annihilation era.”
This impenetrable barrier, which has stymied the research attempts of countless scholars over a staggering ten thousand years, has been fittingly designated by Duncan, a recent returnee from subspace. Among those aware of this metaphorical wall, Lune, the head of the Academy of Truth and the Pope of the God of Wisdom, senses its imposing presence and comprehends the profound implications of this ‘Limited Field of Vision’ more deeply than anyone else.
In Lune’s eloquent words, “Our world appears to have burst into existence out of nowhere, emerging only after the Great Annihilation. The sporadic and inconsistent historical accounts we have only serve to affirm the existence of this ‘limited field of vision’.”
In a conversation with three of his intimate friends, Lune reveals his ponderings, “From the rise of the city-states, reaching back to the obscurity of the Dark Ages, countless scholars have strived to dig into the past, to unearth the origins predating the Great Annihilation. They’ve plumbed the depths of the earth, only to be hindered by this perplexing barrier.”
He further expresses his disappointment, “The time, even the briefest moment before the Great Annihilation, remains a riddle-filled void that defies validation. Even the ‘Book of Blasphemy’, a document procured by Duncan from the followers of Annihilation, which hints at the ‘Three Nights’, only provides historical insights from the time of the Great Annihilation up to the establishment of the ancient Crete Kingdom. A vast gap in knowledge about the epoch before the ‘limited field of vision’ still persists.”
“Utilizing the teachings of heretics as source material is a dangerous proposition,” retorted Death Pope Banster, a comment that Lune meets with a dismissive shake of his head. He argues, “The threat doesn’t lie in the teachings themselves, but in their potential to sow misinformation and stir up malevolence. If we can weed out these deleterious elements, studying the ‘Three Nights’ is an endeavour of significant merit. Much of what we know about the Dark Ages, which followed the downfall of the ancient Crete Kingdom, can be credited to our investigation of the Dark Sun and Annihilation Sects.”
Bringing the discussion to a close, Frem puts forth, “So, in essence, what you’re stating is, you can’t elucidate the phenomena concerning the behemoth beneath the city-states. Nor can the leviathan behemoths, the entities responsible for carrying the Arks, furnish us with any answers.” He adds, “As this event occurred prior to the Great Annihilation, all evidence connected to it remains elusive, immeasurable, and unverifiable.”
Without uttering a word, Lune tacitly conceded to Frem’s assertion, lending it a certain validity. A gravid silence ensued as everyone seemed lost in contemplation before Helena broke the quietude with an abrupt inquiry, “But you can still enlighten us about the Academy of Truth’s discovery of the four leviathans. These colossal beings carrying the four church arks were indeed discovered and subsequently reawakened by you, weren’t they?”
Lune responded, “They originated from the borderlands, following a monumental ‘border collapse’.”
“The Eastern Sea?” A furrowed brow marked Banster’s inadvertent confusion.
“Indeed, near the former location of the Thirteen Islands of Witherland,” Lune confirmed with a nod.
He continued, “Ever since the cataclysmic subspace disaster a hundred years prior, the eastern Eternal Veil has consistently been a vulnerable spot. The dense fog there often implodes, or sporadically unusual zones manifest over the sea, a fact that you all should be familiar with.”
Upon hearing this, Helena and Frem responded with silent nods while Banster bore a contemplative expression. Nonetheless, none of them interjected Lune’s narrative, implicitly urging him to proceed further.
Lune began recounting his recollections, “While the Academy of Truth was conducting its borderland patrols, one of our vessels encountered an anomaly. The precise details remain obscured, as the crew members aboard experienced severe cognitive disorientation and memory loss during the incident, rendering them unable to provide an accurate account of what transpired. Nevertheless, a hurriedly penned log from the ship survived, documenting a portion of the events of that moment.”
According to the log, the sea spontaneously crumpled inward, resembling the rim of an odd, placid ‘bowl’. The water appeared to solidify, but strangely, the ship did not descend into the recessed sea. Instead, it floated in mid-air over the depressed water body.
The ship was rendered immobile, bereft of the power to advance or retreat, and it eerily hovered a hundred meters above the sea. From this sunken sea emerged a gigantic entity that resembled a life form.
Lune added, “That’s the account hastily inscribed by one of the crew members before cognitive disorientation and memory damage took hold.”
He continued, “Later, another crew from our fleet discovered the lost patrol ship. It was slowly drifting out of a thin fog, devoid of all power, the steam core cold. Everyone on board was found unconscious, and through the gradually dissipating fog in the ship’s wake, the rescue team caught sight of four gigantic entities.”
Lune revealed, “Those were the leviathans that we unearthed from the depths of the sea – mythical creatures alluded to in the Storm Codex that were believed to have been lost in the ebb and flow of time, the heralded Apostles of the Storm Goddess.”
He continued, “As you are all aware, the subsequent events saw the Academy of Truth succeeding in ‘resurrecting’ these legendary titans. We constructed massive church arks atop these behemoths, which the four divine churches now employ for their use.”
Lune’s narrative came to a close. While Frem and Banster remained in thoughtful silence, Helena gradually furrowed her brows, saying, “So, the leviathans are a relic of the border regions. No wonder you’ve been reticent about sharing these specifics. It’s tied to the border collapse.”
Lune responded with a nod, “The recognition of the border collapse augments the likelihood of such a collapse occurring within the confines of the civilized world. The more recent the memory, the higher the probability. This was a principle deduced by Duncan Abnomar during his illustrious career as an explorer a century ago. However, several decades have elapsed since the Academy of Truth uncovered the leviathans and that incident of border collapse. It’s less risky to divulge these matters now.”
Breaking his silence, Frem interjected, “I harbor some reservations. The church arks are undoubtedly massive, but when compared to the city-states, they are significantly smaller. If the biological structures beneath the city-states are indeed leviathans, their size surpasses that of the church ark leviathans by a considerable margin. Can they really belong to the same species?”
“Who can say?” Lune replied with a shrug. “Perhaps the four leviathans we discovered in the borderlands are simply ‘smaller specimens’ or ‘juveniles’ of their kind?”
Helena expressed her disagreement by shaking her head, “Theoretically, that shouldn’t be the case. I frequently interact with the leviathan of my ark. Despite its occasional erratic behavior, it doesn’t seem to fit the juvenile narrative.”
Lune suggested, “Then the issue may lie with the biological entities beneath the city-states. Perhaps they are extraordinarily large mutant specimens. That could be a possibility.”
“The underlying cause could be related to the enigmatic blueprints found in the deep sea,” Lune conjectured. “After all, if the data obtained from the ship named ‘Vanished’ is accurate, then all the city-states floating on the Boundless Sea today can be regarded as the handiwork of the ancient gods. It’s even plausible that the biological structures beneath the city-states are the products of the Nether Lord’s secondary engineering.”
However, in the midst of his speculation, Lune abruptly halted his discourse, shaking his head in a somewhat self-derisive manner. He placed a hand over his eyes in a prayer-like gesture to the God of Wisdom, Lahem: “May the Lord show leniency, for it feels strange to entertain these heretical ideas.”
“May the Lord show leniency.”
Helena and Frem echoed, performing their own prayer-like gestures to the Storm Goddess and the Eternal Flame.
As heads of their respective churches, they could consider these topics taboo and even heretical subjects from an elevated standpoint. They could dissect information derived from heretical fanatics with a composed demeanor and a pragmatic approach. But as envoys of the four gods, they were also bound by the tenets of their respective orders and their faith. When delving into certain dangerous topics, a certain sense of dissonance and resistance was inevitably stirred within them.
Only the representative of the God of Death, the tall, gaunt, and aged Banster, remained quiet, appearing lost in thought since the beginning of the conversation.
“Banster?” Lune turned his attention towards the silent envoy of the God of Death, “You’ve seemed preoccupied since we began.”
“I’ve been pondering over a matter, Lune,” Banster finally raised his head, his sunken eyes resembling a deep, dark abyss, “The Thirteen Islands of Witherland – the vicinity where those leviathans were discovered. Doesn’t that strike you as noteworthy?”
Lune responded with a calm nod, clearly anticipating that Banster would single out this detail.
“I know what you’re getting at – the Vanished,” he said.
The elderly elf slowly articulated, “A century ago, the Vanished opened the door to subspace at the Thirteen Islands of Witherland, ensnaring all the islands and their inhabitants into the terrifying depths below. This incident also rendered the space-time fabric of the entire sea highly fragile, with frequent anomalies. From this perspective, the incident that the patrol ship from the Academy of Truth experienced decades ago indeed shares a causal link with the incident.”
At this stage, he paused abruptly, then raised his head to meet Banster’s gaze with a profound seriousness, and continued, “However, we can’t hastily conclude that the Vanished transported the leviathans into our world. This assertion lacks evidence and sufficient theoretical backing.”
“Yet, it is conceivable that those four leviathans entered our reality due to the lingering influence from the Thirteen Islands of Witherland incident. Lune, this matter has been fraught with risks from the beginning.”
“So, are you suggesting we abandon your church ark?”
“No, I desire to keep it!”
