Deep Sea Embers

Chapter 750: The Future of Fire



Chapter 750: The Future of Fire

Chapter 750: The Future of Fire

As the world hovers on the edge of apocalypse, the natural order of cause and effect begins to unravel into chaos. Before Duncan, there had been others who preached about the end of time, yet in Duncan’s eyes, it was as though the final herald of doom had just made his appearance.

For Duncan and the mysterious figure before him, the distinction between what caused what and the result of those causes seemed trivial.

Seeking to know more about the stranger, Duncan inquired, “What’s your name?” His gaze was fixed on the aged man clad in a worn white robe, a spark of curiosity lighting his features.

The question seemed to stump the traveler, whose brow creased in deep thought. After a moment, he responded with a gentle shake of his head, “I can’t seem to remember clearly. It’s been ages since I last had a need for a ‘name’… But, if you insist, you may call me Crete.”

Duncan’s brow furrowed at the response, “Crete? That sounds like the name of your people.”

A look of realization spread across the old man’s face, followed by a smile, “Ah, that’s right. No wonder it felt so familiar to me,” he acknowledged, “Well, it’s fine. I like that name. You can call me Crete.”

After a brief silence, Duncan nodded in acceptance, “Alright, Crete. I have a few questions for you.”

“I’m at your service. I have plenty of time now,” Crete responded, ready for the inquiry.

Duncan posed his first question with a serious tone, “Why have you chosen to meet me now? What is the purpose behind this timing, this ‘window of opportunity’?”

Crete appeared to hesitate for a fraction of a second before answering, “We, those of us who have managed to keep our wits about us, have been trying to find a direct way to reach out to you. Making contact has proven to be extremely challenging. In fact, this isn’t our first attempt; we missed a previous opportunity.”

Confused, Duncan asked, “Missed a window? What do you mean by that?”

“We arrived too soon,” Crete explained calmly.

Understanding dawned on Duncan after a brief pause, “You’re referring to those three individuals who appeared on the Vanished before…”

“Yes, we arrived too soon,” Crete reiterated, “By the time we realized it wasn’t the year 1900, the opportunity had passed. That was our most significant ‘linear loss of control event’ since we set out. From that point forward, numerous events began to spiral beyond our control. Yet, it seems all did not stray from the path that was meant to be. Duncan Abnomar still embarked on his final journey while being aware of his impending demise.”

Duncan was left reeling from this revelation!

The Doomsday Enders (or Doomsday Survey Team) were aware of his true identity as the “Fire Usurper,” an external soul residing within Duncan Abnomar’s body. He had sensed this much, but what truly took him by surprise was the deeper truth.

The memories of Tyrian and Lucretia held accounts of unexpected visitors aboard the Vanished. Those lengthy nocturnal discussions Duncan Abnomar had with the Doomsday Enders were, in reality, intended for him!?

Duncan took a moment to process and then articulate the revelation from Crete’s explanation, seeking confirmation, “So, your intention wasn’t originally to reach out to… ‘him’?”

Crete affirmed with a slow nod, “Indeed, we inadvertently disclosed his fate to a man already on his path to demise. I understand what you’re implying, but the truth remains that upon our arrival on this vessel, he appeared to have had some premonition… As a distinguished explorer, he had anticipated his own end. Our appearance merely caught him off guard momentarily. After that brief surprise, until our opportunity to interact had passed, his inquiries were solely focused on navigating the treacherous border seas.”

As they spoke, a series of unsettling noises—a mix of slight tremors and the groan of old wood—filled the air around Duncan, emanating from the deeper sections of the Vanished. These sounds, however, began to fade after a few seconds.

Crete looked upwards, observing the shadowy ceiling until the eerie silence enveloped them once more. Then, he returned his attention to Duncan.

“After we lost that initial chance to reach you, today presented itself as the only remaining opportunity—this was possible solely when the stability of our sanctuary was critically compromised, allowing us, beings of ‘anti-order,’ to safely make our presence known to you. The precarious state of the shelter now enables us to reveal certain truths to you, shedding light on the destined course of this world.”

“Demonstrate certain truths?” Duncan’s tone shifted to one of seriousness, “What exactly do you mean? What are you planning to show me?”

Crete, seeking to clarify a crucial point before proceeding, looked Duncan in the eyes, “Firstly, I must verify something with you. You’ve renounced our creator, correct?”

“Your creator… are you referring to Navigator One?” Duncan quickly grasped the implication and nodded, “Yes, he proposed that I inherit his control, to govern this world, but I declined.”

Hearing Duncan’s confirmation, Crete seemed reassured, murmuring to himself.

Duncan, driven by curiosity, pressed, “…How does my rejection relate to what you’re about to reveal?”

Instead of responding directly, Crete advanced towards a door that led to subspace, now firmly shut.

“Have you ever opened this door?”

Approaching with caution, Duncan replied, “No, this door leads to subspace. It’s generally unwise to open it in our realm.”

Crete, noticing Duncan’s wary tone, reassured him with a smile, “There’s no need for alarm—you don’t have to open it, nor do I possess the means to. My intention was simply for you to see it.”

“To see it?”

“Subspace mirrors all that could be—every potentiality of our sanctuary is already cast into the chaotic expanse of the Boundless Sea, and we…”

With a soft whisper, Crete then lightly tapped the door frame twice, leaving the implication of his actions hanging in the air.

Under Duncan’s astonished gaze, the door before them disintegrated as if it were a mirage, unleashing a torrent of blinding, indescribable light that surged towards him. In an instant, this light reformed around him, creating a new scene.

Despite his initial urge to react, Duncan remained still, a calmness overtaking him. He sensed no danger or malice from this sudden change; in fact, he could still feel the door’s presence, unaltered, and Crete’s figure was close by, just as before.

Looking around, Duncan found himself on a desolate, dark mountain under a tumultuous, gloomy sky. Hidden within the clouds, a faint light barely pierced the darkness. Below, a vast plain stretched out, dotted with what appeared to be the ruins of cities and the remnants of dried-up aqueducts. The land was cracked and barren, coated with a fine layer of “ash” that blanketed everything, swirling in the wind through the valleys and spreading across the plains like a dense fog.

An intense cold pervaded the air, suggesting that even the ash carried by the wind was on the verge of freezing.

Duncan absorbed the scene silently, then finally spoke, “What is this?”

“This is the era of fire, Captain,” Crete replied, suddenly beside him. Duncan hadn’t noticed his approach. Crete’s white robe, more tattered than before, fluttered gently.

After a moment of contemplation, Duncan inquired further, “Is this a possible history?”

“This represents the sole historical outcome given the existence of the sanctuary,” Crete paused, seemingly gathering his thoughts, before elaborating on the vision before them.

“In the beginning, you embarked on monumental projects, transforming the landscape with grand designs that once existed only on paper. New lands, unimaginable by today’s standards, were reclaimed from the sea. City-states were interconnected, and resources were abundant. Then, you tamed the oceans, fostering more life in its depths. The waters from the seas were cleansed in the mountains and valleys, transforming into rain and snow that nourished the land.”

“The world flourished like never before, its vibrancy surpassing even the most celebrated tales of the Deep Sea Era. Mighty nations emerged, advancing ceaselessly. Innovations in technology, literature, and dreams of the future became a reality—steam trains cutting through forests, massive pipelines linking industrial complexes to urban steel forests…”

“Countless stories unfolded, populated by heroes and leaders, knights and philosophers, legendary explorers, and ordinary individuals striving for existence in the urban sprawl.”

“Captain, trust me, if I hadn’t brought you directly to witness this desolate scene but instead showed you the splendor of its better days, even your resolve might have wavered. Even the most steadfast rulers and protectors across the globe would have been willing to sacrifice everything to be part of that world, despite its fleeting moment of prosperity.”

Duncan remained silent. He stood at the summit, gazing solemnly at the barren and fractured landscape that stretched out below them. After a lengthy pause, he finally broke the quiet, “Are there any survivors left now?”

“Not anymore. The ashes have consumed it all. Do you see those ruins over there? The tallest church in the heart of the city… that’s where the last survivors drew their final breaths. Now, only a lone soul roams within its walls, clutching a great sword. Yet, that sword can no longer offer protection to anyone.”

Duncan then lifted his gaze towards the faint glow in the sky, “And what is that up there?”

“That’s a very small sun. When the world started to grow cold, she made an attempt to warm the world and managed to sustain it for a while using sheer will.”

“What about my flames then?”

“It’s been extinguished, Captain,” Crete responded slowly, “After you had incinerated everything in this world that could possibly burn.”


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