Chapter 100 “Fiction And Reality In History”
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“Captain, are you absolutely certain this is safe?” Alice asked, her eyes filled with apprehension as she stared at the small flickering flame of ghost flame in Duncan’s palm. She couldn’t help but continually grasp at the lace trim that adorned her dress. “I’d rather you not burn down my room, if you don’t mind.”
Duncan carefully balanced the flame of ghost flame in his hand. He shot a slightly exasperated glance back at Alice while he surveyed the area next to her mysterious wooden “coffin” as if searching for the perfect spot to apply the flame. “Alice, my control over the flame is impeccable. Don’t you have faith in my skills?”
The moment she heard Duncan’s words, Alice hastily moved her hands in the air, almost like she was trying to wave away her previous concerns. “Oh, I do, Captain, I truly do.”
Feeling reassured by her response, Duncan redirected his focus inward, his expression becoming one of deep concentration.
Due to the existing conditions aboard their ship, the Vanished, conducting a full-fledged examination of Alice’s peculiar wooden “coffin” wasn’t practical at the moment. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t perform some sort of “initial investigation.” With his increasingly refined mastery over the ghost flame, Duncan felt he was on the cusp of discovering new methods of utilizing this unique flame to probe the hidden properties of supernatural objects.
Although Duncan had reservations about using the flame directly on Alice, he deemed it much less risky to investigate her ornate wooden box.
After mentally and physically preparing himself, Duncan carefully extended his hand. A slender wisp of the ethereal fire danced from his fingertip, making its way onto the intricately carved surface of the wooden box.
Upon contact, the ghost flame seemed to dissolve into the wood as if it were a ghostly reflection. Alice’s eyes widened, captivated by what she was witnessing. After a few seconds of tense silence, a surreal blaze suddenly erupted across her field of vision—
The ghost flame had started to burn within the wooden box, spreading from the inside out. For a brief moment, the box appeared almost translucent as it filled every nook and cranny to reveal its inner “skeletal” structure in a fantastical display.
“Oh my God, Captain, it’s actually burning! Look at it!” Alice cried out, her voice tinged with both awe and excitement.
However, Duncan didn’t reply. At that moment, all of his attention was devoted to maintaining control over the ghost flames and sensing the intricacies of the mysterious “coffin.” He watched, almost in a trance, as the flames flickered within the now semi-transparent box. Alice’s exclamations seemed to be coming from a distant world, barely penetrating his focused state.
Duncan felt a profound sense of calm wash over him, and the ambient noise around him, even the perpetual roiling waves of the Boundless Sea, faded away from his awareness. He sensed his spiritual energy extending into a vast, unexplored “realm,” and an increasing number of “sensations” began to funnel into his consciousness through the conduit established by the ghost flame.
This was an entirely different experience from when he had previously used these flames to modify a solar amulet. The possibilities seemed endless, and he was gripped by a newfound excitement about what he might discover next.
If Duncan were to draw an analogy, using the flame to manipulate the sun amulet would have felt like a simple task, akin to filling up a cup with water. But right now, the sensation was utterly different—his ghost flame was pouring into what felt like a boundless lake. The scale of the experiences was so disparate it was like comparing a firefly to a lighthouse.
Could this be the difference between a mass-produced magical object and a high-level anomaly, one that was ranked 099?
An epiphany struck Duncan; at that exact moment, he felt his connection with the flame hit some pinnacle. The transfer of spiritual energy suddenly smoothed out, becoming as fluid as a river in full flow. A deluge of “memories” rushed into his consciousness, flooding his mind with vivid imagery.
He heard the sound of ocean waves crashing, the water lapping against an unfamiliar shore. A chilling wind whistled past towering, ancient walls that seemed frozen in a forgotten time. Vague, shadowy figures milled around, their forms barely discernible in the dim light.
Duncan felt as though he was floating a few meters above the ground. Astonished, he looked around and saw a foreign city-state and elevated platforms lining the coastline. Surrounding these platforms were myriad shadowy forms—seemingly a crowd, yet none were individually clear.
A haunting cacophony reverberated in all directions. It sounded almost like a crowd murmuring, but as Duncan strained to make sense of it, he realized these were not human voices engaged in conversation. Instead, what he heard were countless “inner monologues”—a jumbled mess of thoughts, prayers to gods, nervous self-talk, and pleas emanating from a place of deep seated fear.
Even though these “shadows” were silent, their inner voices roared across the platform like a tempestuous storm.
A visceral feeling surged within Duncan, compelling him to turn his head. Illuminated by a dim celestial light, he saw a chilling sight—a towering guillotine, its blade glinting ominously in the darkness.
Connecting this vision with his limited historical knowledge and the background of Anomaly 099, Duncan suddenly understood where he was.
His gaze fell below the guillotine, and as his awareness crystallized, the blurry figure standing beneath it sharpened into focus.
It was the Queen—the Frost Queen, executed by rebels some fifty years prior. Her silver hair flowed like a cascading waterfall, and her light purple eyes retained their luminance even in the enveloping darkness. Wearing only a thin gown despite the chill, she clenched her teeth to suppress any signs of shivering.
Her face was identical to Alice’s.
A strange emotion welled up within Duncan as he looked at the woman, who was the spitting image of Alice. Even though he understood that this was the historical “original,” his mind was inevitably filled with thoughts of the cheerful and animated Alice currently on his ship. His pondering was suddenly interrupted by a voice that seemed to materialize out of thin air—”Your time has come, the Frost Queen.”
The voice that spoke was icy and remote, but it carried an ethereal power that seemed to cut through the fog of ages, echoing hauntingly around the execution site beside the guillotine.
In an instant, Duncan observed two spectral figures suddenly materialize next to the Frost Queen. They moved towards her with the apparent intention of forcing her to kneel under the sharp blade of the guillotine. However, the Frost Queen remained unmoving, her regal bearing making the ghostly figures seem ineffectual and weak as if they were children attempting a task far beyond their abilities.
The discordant sounds that had been reverberating around Duncan surged in intensity, becoming a tumultuous wave of cacophony. The shadowy figures that had been murmuring unintelligibly seemed to ripple and shift, their nebulous forms blending with distinct shouts and cries. That same chilling voice boomed again, this time with an undercurrent of fury: “Silence! Maintain order on the execution ground!”
More spectral figures emerged, clustering around the guillotine. Despite her resistance, the Frost Queen was finally overpowered and compelled to kneel beneath the grim instrument of her demise. Though she was kneeling in the cold, unforgiving dust, she lifted her head to gaze stoically at the towering walls of a distant, enigmatic city-state. The guillotine’s blade began its slow ascent, the winch producing a screeching sound that sliced through the heavy air.
Duncan’s brow tightened in unease. Even though he intellectually understood he was witnessing a spectral fragment of history, the fact that the woman bore Alice’s face prompted an instinctive step forward. It was as though he was compelled to reach out to her.
But the moment he initiated the motion, the strangest thing occurred—the Frost Queen suddenly tilted her head, locking eyes with a point in space where Duncan stood, a place that should have been vacant in her own historical context. Opening her mouth, she spoke softly yet clearly, “Whoever you are, please do not contaminate history.”
Caught off guard, Duncan froze. His astonishment escalated when another voice near the guillotine cried out, “Who are you speaking to?!”
The Frost Queen turned away, her gaze retreating as if she had come to some profound realization. A hint of relief washed over her normally stoic face. She seemed to direct her next words to the executioner beside her: “Proceed, before the sun sets.”
The blade of the guillotine descended with a horrifying finality.
A tidal wave of darkness enveloped everything, and the historical tableau began to splinter, disintegrating into fragmented beams of light. Duncan felt his spiritual connection to this spectral scene weaken rapidly, a clear indication that this haunting moment was drawing to an end. As the vision crumbled away, his senses caught snatches of disjointed, fluctuating sounds. The voices were fading, but he managed to catch bits and pieces of the conversation—
“…The Frost Queen is dead. We have severed the Vanished’s channel to return to the real world…”
“…Ray Nora attempted to build a second Vanished… She colluded with the shadows of subspace, the evidence is irrefutable, she deserves to die…”
These snippets lingered in his mind, reverberating like echoes as he felt himself yanked back from the disintegrating vision. Duncan was left in a state of profound confusion, the mysterious experience raising more questions than it provided answers.
“…The incoming governor will soon bring stability back to the region; all documents and artifacts associated with the ‘Abyss Project’ are to be eradicated… Any informants who willingly step forward may be granted the opportunity for clemency…”
“Direct all available forces to hunt down the rebel vessel, Sea Mist, as well as any defectors from our navy… Capture them, dead or alive… Wait, what is that noise? Evacuate immediately. The structure is about to collapse!”
A cacophony of screams, shouts of terror, the overwhelming sound of gigantic edifices splintering and disintegrating, followed by the furious roar of chaotic waves crashing against each other.
Suddenly, Duncan felt as if he had been catapulted from an abyss of all-consuming darkness, akin to a diver rocketing back to the surface of the water from the deepest ocean trenches. The last sensations that enveloped him in the darkness were the apocalyptic noises—sounds that seemed to echo the cataclysmic collapse of a cliffside plunging into the ocean from the edge of land.
Duncan had just borne witness to a fragment of a long-gone era, an era that then seemed to dissolve into an abyss of eternal silence.
He had encountered a spectral figure from the annals of history, a figure who had entreated him not to tamper with the chronicles of the past.
Gradually, he opened his eyes to find himself back in his familiar cabin aboard his ship, surrounded by the comforting sounds of ocean waves gently slapping against the vessel. Before him sat the puppet he recognized, an entity that was cheerily detaching its head with an audible “pop,” only to joyously reattach it a moment later.
Duncan: “…?”
His expression wavered between confusion and deep thought as he found himself back in the realm of tangible reality, distanced from the unsettling historical visions and the portentous voices that had recently enveloped his consciousness. Though he was back amidst familiar settings and the soothing sounds of the ocean, the haunting questions that were spawned from what he had just witnessed lingered, casting an even larger shadow over his thoughts.
that last line tho
Yay! We have reached one hundred chapters! Congrats, and thank you.
…. Was the Frost Queen implying Captain can even mess with history?
Maybe, everything that was reality could be controlled by Duncan.
History, rather than time, I would assume. The same information state corruption that he naturally emits such as in the hideout,taking over Ron
This send me the same chill when asg look at klein and said we meet again mystery
True man
Goddamnit, I was really immersed in the story, wondering if the reason the queen saw Duncan is because he’s so powerful he can even affect the past, then the last line came and it made me laugh.
Why are you so cute Alice.