Chapter 165 “Lucretia’s Pressure”
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Amidst a backdrop of unsettling sounds, the mechanical doll abruptly stiffened, its movements grinding to a stop, much like an aged, rusted machine that has reached its operational limit. Almost at that very moment, from a nearby chamber, Lucretia sensed something amiss with her handcrafted invention.
Without warning, the cabin door swung open violently. Fragments of vibrant paper rushed in, dancing in the air in a tornado-like motion. These paper shards magically assembled themselves, taking on a human form. Emerging from the flurry of colored paper, Lucretia, who was also referred to as the “Sea Witch,” made her presence known. Her gaze was immediately drawn to Luni, the mechanical doll. Luni was now in a seated position, her posture slouched and her head bowed down in a defeated manner.
Rushing over with concern evident on her face, Lucretia asked, “Luni?” Almost immediately, her attention was captured by a wind-up key lying discarded by Luni’s side. Bending down to retrieve it, Lucretia gently tapped on Luni’s mechanical casing, inquiring further, “What happened here?”
From within Luni’s complex interior, a sequence of sporadic, creaking noises could be heard. Slowly, some components started to reactivate. A warped voice, now out of tune, rang out from Luni’s core, declaring, “Old Master… he’s in search of you…”
The suddenness of this revelation caused the wind-up key in Lucretia’s grasp to slip and fall. Luni, reacting to the fallen key, attempted to pick it up, her intention evident to wind herself up again. However, her actions were abruptly halted, replaced by the distressing noise of gears jamming.
The mere mention of the “old master” visibly shook Lucretia. But the evident distress emanating from Luni’s malfunctioning form snapped her back to the present moment. Trying hard to keep her emotions in check, Lucretia firmly gripped the doll’s shoulders, issuing a directive, “Luni, go into standby mode.”
Acknowledging this instruction, the mechanical doll responded in a monotone voice, “Understood. Luni is now in standby mode.”
Subsequently, within the Bright Star, Lucretia found herself engrossed in work within a luminous chamber.
This particular room bore a strong resemblance to a cutting-edge lab, the likes of which could rival those at the esteemed Truth Academy. The vast space was filled with a myriad of sophisticated machinery, pipes, and conduits, all of which powered diverse apparatuses. Amidst this technical marvel, there were devices embellished with glowing magical symbols, crystalline containers, and specialized equipment. Several automated dolls diligently maintained these machines, permitting Lucretia to pour all her concentration into the task at hand.
Lying in front of the famed “Sea Witch” was Luni, who was now spread out on a vast table.
The doll had been meticulously taken apart. Her external attire, resembling that of a maid, had been carefully removed. Her intricate gold skeleton and the various brass mechanisms were laid out in plain view. Presently, only Luni’s upper body, which was still intact, rested at the edge of the table. With an expressionless gaze, she occasionally blinked, silently observing her own disassembled state.
A slightly distorted voice, reminiscent of a broken music box, emanated from the chest cavity of the automaton doll, Luni, “Can… you… fix… me?”
Focused on the delicate task at hand, Lucretia replied without looking up from her work, “Rest assured, Luni.” She paused briefly to inspect a component, then continued, “It seems the sudden jamming of your transmission mechanisms caused your bearings to become misaligned. It’s intricate work, certainly, but the path to repairing it is clear. Most importantly, your ‘heart’ – the core of your being – remains untouched.”
Drawn by her words, Luni’s mechanical eyes gradually turned their gaze to the centerpiece of the worktable: her very “heart.”
The object in question was an exquisitely designed brass orb pieced together with an array of finely detailed metal plates. Suspended magically above a collection of components, the orb’s surface plates would occasionally shift and glide, revealing the complex internal design. At specific angles, one could glimpse the intricate runes, glowing faintly, inscribed deep within the sphere. Central to these luminous inscriptions was an exceptionally delicate object.
A doll’s finger segment – so fragile and dainty that it made even an infant’s fingertip seem robust in comparison. This relic was a masterpiece crafted by a skilled doll maker over a century ago.
This minuscule finger segment embodied the true essence of the automaton doll, Luni. It was a poignant reminder of a doll that came into existence in this world a full hundred years prior.
Catching Luni’s fixated stare, Lucretia momentarily ceased her operations.
After a slight pause, she resumed her intricate work and mused, “Have you ever held any resentment towards me for transforming you into what you are now?”
“Why would Luni harbor resentment?” The synthetic voice, coming from the detached doll’s head on the workbench, replied with a hint of emotion, “Mistress… bestowed life upon Luni. For that, Luni… remains eternally grateful…”
Lucretia’s voice softened as she confessed, “All this started because of my own capricious desires. I discarded your original form, and for the longest time, I remained oblivious to the fact that under certain influences, you evolved and developed true cognitive abilities. I perceived you only as a piece of machinery, frequently subjecting you to countless ‘innovations’ without pondering the potential repercussions.”
Rather than providing a direct answer, Luni, after a brief contemplative silence, noted, “Your demeanor seems burdened. You seem lost in thought. Ordinarily, you wouldn’t delve into such past events without cause.”
There was a prolonged silence before Lucretia posed her question, “Can you recall what you informed me about earlier? Right after I entered the dining room and reactivated you?”
Luni responded, her voice neutral, “Memory retrieval unsuccessful. Luni cannot recall.”
“You had mentioned that the ‘old master’ is in search of me.”
An unusual sequence of sounds, reminiscent of a computer processing vast amounts of data, came from Luni’s chest cavity.
Lucretia looked up, her gaze penetrating, “You genuinely have no recollection?”
Once again, Luni reiterated, “Memory retrieval unsuccessful. Luni cannot recall.”
“…It seems that my father is hell-bent on ensuring that I remain oblivious to his secretive endeavors,” Lucretia mused, a complicated smile playing on her lips as she delicately worked on disassembling a series of misshapen gears. She sounded lost in thought, “He’s sent a rather unilateral message, insinuating… that he’s aware of the Bright Star’s location, and more pointedly, my whereabouts.”
“You’re feeling threatened.”
“It’s more than mere apprehension; it borders on terror. Yet, along with the dread, there’s an overwhelming sense of… melancholy.”
“Melancholy? Why would that be?”
Holding Luni’s gaze for a moment, Lucretia took a deep breath, and after letting the silence linger a little longer, she softly said, “It’s an emotion with layers of depth that might be too intricate for you to fathom right now.”
Luni’s mechanical voice responded, “Alright, Luni will try to comprehend it in due course.” Pausing briefly, she ventured further, “Could it be that the old master’s message is an implicit warning directed at you?”
“It’s quite ambiguous, but it undeniably carries the weight of a cautionary tale,” Lucretia whispered with a pensive expression, “It’s almost akin to a declaration that precedes a chase… Given that he’s emerged from subspace and is seemingly more erratic than during his last trip here, it might be prudent to inform my brother, Tyrian…”
“It would be wise to alert Mr. Tyrian. He’s currently in Pland. The Pland Governor reported that the Vanished is approaching their city-state’s vicinity.”
A slight nod from Lucretia acknowledged Luni’s information, and without uttering another word, she resumed her meticulous work.
…
Carefully cradling the doll, “Nilu”, Duncan gently positioned it within a beautifully carved antique wooden box. He then stored a feather-shaped hairpin, seemingly of significance, in a nearby drawer.
Studying the box housing “Nilu”, Duncan felt a twinge of self-consciousness.
Being a mature adult, the idea of having such a distinctly young, feminine-designed doll within the confines of his bedroom seemed out of place.
However, racking his brains, he found no other location within his dwelling that felt more appropriate for its safekeeping.
Despite preliminary tests on “Nilu” revealing no supernatural attributes and no discernible link to any supernatural phenomena, its connection to “Lucretia” made Duncan wary of its unforeseen importance. The reluctance to keep it out of his immediate view was palpable.
After pondering for a while, with a resigned sigh, Duncan settled on placing “Nilu’s” ornate box by his bedside.
He addressed the intricately decorated container, “If you harbor any hidden attributes or mysteries, it’s about time you unveiled them,” shaking his head in slight amusement, “Don’t mimic Alice, procrastinating until the brink of being cast into the sea, only to make a grand, dramatic reveal.”
Naturally, no response came from the lifeless box, but Duncan wasn’t expecting one.
He then wandered over to the window, taking a moment to peer out.
The cloak of night had draped the world outside, and the faint, ethereal luminescence of the World’s Creation delicately illuminated the expansive sea below.
As daylight’s robust shield gradually diminished in the physical realm, sinister, deformed, and caustic energies began to surge and envelop the entire world. These dark times pushed most of humanity to seek solace within the sanctuaries of their dreams, shielding their minds from the external onslaught that threatened their very sanity.
For Duncan, however, the approach of darkness was devoid of any trepidation. The foreboding shadows that so many feared never haunted him. To him, the night was a sanctum, a time when his cognitive prowess reached its zenith.
Turning his attention to his workspace, he carefully laid out a pristine sheet of white paper and picked up an elegant fountain pen resting nearby. These were among the latest acquisitions from his recent visit to the city-state of Pland.
After a moment of silent reflection, he began inscribing words with deliberate intent:
“In the year 1889, the fragment of the sun made its ominous debut, setting the stage for the devastating Great Fire of Pland;
Hidden beneath the shrouds of the Sixth District factory is a ‘reality’ that the relentless flames had consumed and erased;
Within the hallowed confines of the Sixth District’s community church, an anomalous spacetime exists. It appears trapped in an eternal cycle where two diametrically opposed realities interlace;
The source of the entity known as Dog’s ‘human-like traits’ remains shrouded in mystery. However, it’s evident that its nature hasn’t been molded by the sun fragment’s influence;
The goddess statue enshrined within the Sixth District church seems to bear the scars of a subspace rift. The devout nun taking shelter in the underground chamber likely met her tragic end while fending off an intrusion from this alternate realm…”
I’m having trouble accessing chapter 165 of deep sea embers, even after refreshing. Can you help me?
Caught up to this chapter in one go, love the series so far!
Thanks for the chapter!