Deep Sea Embers Chapter 239: “Falling Object”

Chapter 239 “Falling Object”

The Bright Star’s speed gradually decreased, eventually coming to a cautious stop hundreds of meters away from the faintly glowing, semi-transparent “cliff.”

However, in comparison to the colossal scale of the structure, a distance of hundreds of meters seemed insignificant. Visually, Luni felt as if the Bright Star had drawn near to the “cliff.” The impressive geometric structure, resembling a towering mountain, loomed with an overwhelming presence that could easily overwhelm and suffocate an ordinary person standing there.

“It’s truly magnificent,” the clockwork doll couldn’t help but exclaim, looking up, “And beautiful.”

Indeed, it was both magnificent and beautiful. If one could overlook its oddity, it might even be considered a wondrous sight, capable of inspiring a great masterpiece from a talented artist or countless poems from a poet.

It looked like a peak sculpted from pale golden, translucent amber with sharp angles or an exceptionally regular geometric iceberg. Emitting a hazy golden light, it floated in the water, encircled by a thin, slowly drifting mist that lent it a dreamy aura.

Various signs suggested that it was indeed dreamlike—it lacked a physical form, despite its apparent existence. It seemed more like a giant shadow.

“Mistress,” Luni couldn’t help but turn around, “What do you think this is?”

“I don’t know. I only know that it fell from the sky,” Lucretia admitted her lack of knowledge. She remembered the scene when the Bright Star first tracked this object—just two days prior, during the last hours of daylight, the Bright Star observed a massive, hazy, glowing body suddenly falling from the sky, tearing through the clouds, and disappearing into the depths of the border seas. From that moment on, she and her ship had been pursuing this object.

However, aside from the evident fact that it had fallen from the sky, she knew nothing about this phantom-like celestial visitor.

Lucretia carefully observed the base of the massive geometric structure, confirming another fact:

It was incredibly light, floating on the surface of the sea with only its lower half slightly submerged in the water. This slight submersion indicated that the seemingly illusory object possessed some mass and wasn’t merely a shadow.

Possessing mass meant it could be bound by physical materials… Could they use the Bright Star’s power to tow this object away? Could they bring it back to the civilized world’s territory and assemble a truly professional team to study it? The Explorers’ Association would probably be eager to help…

While it may work in theory, the practicality of this idea remained uncertain. How could they transport such a massive, penetrable illusion? Or was there a solid core within the glowing geometric structure that provided its mass?

As Lucretia quickly pondered these thoughts, Luni’s voice rang beside her: “Shall we investigate its interior?”

“Let’s proceed cautiously,” Lucretia said, biting her finger and drawing a drop of blood. The blood drifted forward and suddenly burst into an exaggerated puff of smoke.

When the smoke cleared, another “Lucretia” appeared in the control room—like a ghostly illusion, wearing a pale, tattered dress, her face cold and gloomy, and her body semi-transparent, hovering in mid-air.

Lucretia nodded at the illusion, which then silently turned around and flew toward the “mountain” hundreds of meters away.

Luni watched this scene nervously, witnessing the ghostly illusion swiftly cross the foggy sea surface and silently vanish into the “mountain.”

But nothing special happened.

“Mistress?” Luni turned to her master, “What’s inside?”

“Light and warmth fill the space, neither scorching hot nor blindingly bright… There is an absence of wind or waves inside, and the sea below appears even calmer than the ‘outside’,” Lucretia said slowly, carefully processing the information from her phantom clone, “For now, at least the shallow area of the ‘mountain’ seems safe. I’m moving further inward.”

Luni nodded. Although she was a clockwork doll, her “soul” was closer to human than any crew member on the ship. At this moment, her nervousness increased, and she reached behind herself to wind her key a few times, using this method to alleviate the slight tremors in her body caused by tension. After waiting for some time, she suddenly saw her mistress’s expression change.

Lucretia furrowed her brow and looked forward.

“I’ve reached the deepest part,” said the “Sea Witch,” “There is a core.”

“A core? What does it look like?”

“A massive stone sphere,” Lucretia said with a somewhat puzzled expression, “or at least it appears to be made of stone. It’s grayish-white, with many regular grooves on the surface, about ten meters in diameter, floating above the sea…”

As she spoke, Lucretia furrowed her brow and concentrated, as if issuing a command to the ghostly apparition that had already ventured deep into the glowing geometric structure. She continued, “It can be touched. It’s solid.”

“Solid…” Luni paused, her years of experience with her mistress quickly helping her understand, “You want to… bring it back?”

“The elven scholars in Wind Harbor should be interested in this,” Lucretia said calmly, “The patterns on the surface of the stone sphere display an obvious regularity, suggesting a complex geometric structure. I suspect… those proficient in mathematics may discern something from it.”

“How are we going to ‘drag’ this thing back?” Luni looked at her mistress, somewhat bewildered, “With a sturdy rope or chain? We have spare anchor cables on the ship, but they might not be long enough – the projection of the glowing body is too large, and the distance from here to its core may exceed the limit of the anchor cable…”

Lucretia silently stared at the glowing “mountain” and seemed to make up her mind after half a minute, “We’ll go in and pull it out ourselves.”

“Are you serious?”

“My curiosity is piqued.”

“…Alright, you’re serious.”

…

Duncan slept in the captain’s quarters of the Vanished, experiencing a brief and peculiar dream.

This was remarkable, as his body scarcely required sleep, let alone dreaming. In fact, since he came aboard this ship, he had never experienced a “dream” – he had some fragmented dreams in Pland’s body, but none were as clear and memorable as this short, strange dream.

In the dream, he saw a meteor, one that appeared suddenly during the day.

He stood at the bow of the Vanished, and the ship was quiet. He could not hear the noise of the goat head in his mind, nor the daily commotion of Alice battling with the bucket and mop on the deck, and even the entire Boundless Sea was silent, with no waves or wind.

The whole world seemed to have fallen into silence, and in this quietude, massive glowing objects fell from the sky – also silent.

One after another, luminous objects fell, gently landing on the placid surface of the Boundless Sea. Despite their massive size, they created no disturbances, as if they were phantoms falling upon one another. Gradually, the objects descended like rain, transforming into a terrifying and peculiar meteor shower. Countless glowing objects filled the sea, enveloping the Vanished in a sea of brilliance.

As the numerous luminous objects continued to fall, the sky gradually darkened. By the end of the dream, the meteor shower had dwindled, leaving the sky pitch black.

Duncan lifted his head at the dream’s conclusion, only to be met with a dark red, blotchy, and frightening void in the sky, reminiscent of a dying eye silently observing the world.

Duncan’s eyes snapped open, the vivid and bizarre dream leaving a strong impression on his mind.

He was amazed that he could dream aboard the ship, even more so by the strange scenes his dream presented—

A quiet world, silent meteors, a dark and lifeless sky, and the terrifying void like a dying eye gazing upon the world… Why did he dream of such peculiar sights? What did this dream symbolize?!

Duncan slowly caught his breath, sitting up in bed and rubbing his forehead in irritation.

On the eerie Boundless Sea, aboard the Vanished, he couldn’t accept that the dream was just ordinary—something must have influenced him, or his “intuition” sensed something, prompting the dream’s scene.

As he pondered in frustration, his brow furrowed.

Did it have any connection to the “World Countdown” he had recently learned about? Was it related to the “truth” about the world’s end that “Captain Duncan,” who had gone mad a century ago, had faced? Had learning this information triggered the dream, or had the residual memories of this body suddenly stirred? Was his interaction with Tyrian and Lucretia linked to the dream?

Duncan gently tapped his forehead and reached for the bottle of alcohol on the side cabinet, intending to use its power to calm his emotions. However, as he extended his hand, his gaze fell upon the nearby wall clock, and he paused.

The clock’s hands had stopped.

They had come to a halt one minute before sunrise.

The darkness outside the window was not illuminated by the break of dawn or the cold radiance of the World’s Creation.

The oil lamp’s flame in the bedroom was the only “living thing” still burning steadily, but its light appeared somewhat dim, casting a peculiar glow throughout the room.

Duncan’s gaze calmly surveyed the scene, taking in all the abnormal occurrences.

The situation was clearly not normal… Was he still dreaming?

He quickly dismissed this possibility—his clear consciousness allowed him to discern whether he was dreaming.

Suppressing the urge to open the window and investigate the situation outside the ship, Duncan got up and headed for the bedroom door.

His first destination was the chart room to see if Goathead knew what was happening.

Upon opening the door to the chart room, he looked at the navigation table where the sea chart and Goathead should have been.

The wooden sculpture was missing.