Chapter 187: “Ender Missionaries”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com
The newly awakened follower of the enigmatic subspace realm was overwhelmed with inexplicable joy upon realizing he was aboard the legendary ship, the Vanished. Overcome with emotion, he spread his arms wide, shouting incoherently, his words an unintelligible jumble. His fervent, unrestrained outburst was so intense that it frightened Alice, who instinctively stepped back, narrowly avoiding her head falling off.
“This tradition or ritual, whatever it is, is absolutely horrifying!” Miss Doll exclaimed, her eyes wide with fear as she sought refuge behind Duncan. “What’s gotten into him?”
Duncan was equally perplexed by the man’s behavior. Before he could formulate a question, two more individuals, known as Enders, awoke. It took them a moment to assess their surroundings, but once they did, they were consumed by the same ecstatic fervor as the first man. Their shouts were filled with references to the “Promised Ark” and the “Gateway to Subspace.” No matter what Duncan and Alice tried to convey, their words went unheard.
Connecting the dots, Duncan surmised that their overwhelming joy stemmed from their devout belief in the legends of subspace. The Vanished was a mythical ship said to have returned from this otherworldly realm. Perhaps, to these zealous followers, the ship represented a tangible miracle or a divine sign?
Yet, their reactions seemed overly dramatic even for zealous followers. The three clung to one another, oscillating between tears and laughter, extolling the wonders of subspace and the mythos of the Vanished. At times, their sounds were eerie and unnatural, resembling cries one might imagine emanating directly from the depths of subspace itself. Their reverence for the ship peaked when they knelt to kiss its deck.
Witnessing this, Alice’s temper flared. Observing from a distance, she shouted, “My spotless deck!” In a flash, she was by their side, wielding a mop as a weapon, landing a blow on one of the zealous men.
Before she could continue her reprimand, something unexpected occurred. Nearby cleaning tools, buckets, and mops sprang to life, converging on the fervent followers. A cacophony of the followers’ shouts, Alice’s scoldings, and the sounds of the animated cleaning tools filled the air, turning the ordinarily peaceful ship into a bedlam.
Duncan watched in shock. The sight of the so-called “cursed doll with her sentient cleaning brigade attacking the intruders” was almost too much to process. He wondered when Miss Doll had formed such a bond with the ship’s cleaning equipment. Without a second thought, he jumped in, yelling, “Enough!”
The animated cleaning equipment froze mid-attack. Alice, however, couldn’t resist landing one last swing with her mop on an Ender, punctuating her attack with a swift kick. As she walked away, she muttered, “The audacity to defile the deck I just meticulously cleaned…”
“While I may not fully agree with their behavior, this seems excessive,” Duncan remarked with evident frustration, casting a sidelong look at the diminutive doll standing close to him. He then addressed the beleaguered cultists, “Have you come to your senses now?”
Instead of appearing weakened or contemplating retreat, these Enders radiated an unsettling energy. Their smiles, eerily cheerful and off-putting, made their resilience all the more shocking. Though appearing delicate, their bodies showed remarkable resistance to pain, almost as if they had transcended common human thresholds of suffering.
One of the Enders, seemingly responding to Duncan’s query, slowly shifted his gaze to meet Duncan’s. His eyes, wild and frenzied, took an unnervingly long time to lock onto Duncan’s. He then began to laugh, a cold and haunting sound. “Ah, hahaha… Keeper of the Sacred Path, Guide to the Forbidden Realm, and Pathfinder of the Sacred Ark! I see… I see into the depths of your soul! It’s such a pity… you were chosen for this divine gift, yet you spurned its benevolence. Presented with the opportunity to access the Holy Land, and yet, you declined! Such naivety!”
Duncan’s brow creased slightly, signaling his discomfort.
From behind him, Alice promptly interjected, “Captain, do you wish for me to discipline him further?”
The animated cleaning equipment, like eager apprentices, danced behind Alice, poised and ready to spring into action once more, acting as her loyal backup troops.
Duncan raised a hand, signaling restraint. He faced the laughing fanatic, his face an inscrutable mask. “It appears you’re quite familiar with my reputation as the ‘Ghost Captain.'”
The Ender responded with a ghastly smile, blood trickling from his mouth, flowing in patterns reminiscent of animated tendrils. “The whispers of subspace sing tales of you… They talk of your inexplicable refusal… You were destined for its blessings, so why did you flee? Are you not aware that subspace is the ultimate fate of all? Having reached the threshold of eternity, why retreat from such a culmination?”
Duncan continued to scrutinize the preacher, his mind toggling between the man’s evident lunacy and the fervent conviction underpinning his beliefs. While his face remained impassive, internally, Duncan was ruminating.
These fervent disciples of subspace were undeniably unique. Their unbridled devotion not only endowed them with unusual abilities but also seemed to offer them arcane knowledge of subspace. There was a possibility that the cultist’s ravings held kernels of truth.
Had Captain Duncan truly spurned the allure of subspace? Did he forsake its supposed blessings? Was it possible that when the Vanished was ensnared by subspace, the genuine Captain Duncan managed to maintain his sanity contrary to widespread belief? The ship’s mysterious re-emergence from subspace… could it symbolize a triumphant evasion? Had Captain Duncan indeed clung to a semblance of reason during that ordeal?
“At what point did he become unhinged? And when was his end?” Duncan pondered aloud, trying to grasp the full narrative.
Suddenly, his mind was drawn to the image of Goathead and its discernible apprehension concerning subspace — its clear reluctance and evident signs of distress were undeniable.
The sculpture’s evident aversion seemed to affirm the assertions of the Ender. It lent credence to the notion of a possible evasion from the clutches of subspace.
Soon after this recollection, the Ender lapsed into a semi-conscious trance, his utterances becoming incoherent. At times, he would break into fits of hysterical laughter or spontaneously strike himself. His companions, for their part, seemed to exist in a continual trance-like state, their psyche torn between this realm and the enigma of subspace.
In Duncan’s previous experiences, these devotees seemed even more deranged and disconnected from tangible reality than the Suntists he had previously encountered. Their minds appeared tumultuous, constantly oscillating between the tangible world and the mysteries of subspace. Unless directly addressed or tasked, they exhibited great difficulty in coherent thought and communication.
Duncan wondered if this mental affliction was a direct result of subspace’s influence. Or had these devotees voluntarily sacrificed their cognitive integrity to immerse themselves entirely in subspace?
What puzzled Duncan even more was how such outwardly unstable individuals managed to navigate the urban confines of the city-state. Surely, with their erratic behaviors, they would attract the attention of the steam-powered sentinels that patrolled the main thoroughfares and would be apprehended in no time.
After observing the trio’s extended stupor, Duncan sought answers, “Why did you target Shirley?”
Upon hearing this, the three followers stirred. One, with considerable effort, managed to raise his head, inquiring with a woozy tone, “Target? Whom did we target?”
“The recent attack,” Duncan responded coldly, “You went after a young girl who was accompanied by a spectral canine. Why?”
“Target… ah, now I recall…” the previously entranced Ender’s face lit up with a sinister smile, proclaiming, “We’re merely ensuring the annals of history remain untainted! Discrepancies, anomalies, and potential threats… all must be eradicated… According to the authentic timeline, that girl wasn’t destined to live! With her existence, inconsistencies keep arising…”
“The genuine course of history?” Duncan’s interest was piqued, “Are you implying that you’ve manipulated the timeline of Pland?”
“No alterations, none whatsoever… our sole endeavor is to restore equilibrium!” The Ender exclaimed, his eyes shining with an almost fanatical dedication, “Our world must adhere to its predetermined fate! The inevitable cataclysm has been staved off for far too long. Society has rebuffed the divine embrace of subspace, the destiny that was preordained! We’re merely endeavoring to guide history back onto its rightful track!”
“Guiding history back onto its rightful track!” The other two Enders joined in with feverish enthusiasm, echoing the Ender’s words. One even rose to his feet, arms outstretched as if heralding a momentous revelation, “Only by realigning our path and following the eventual extermination of all can true rejuvenation occur! Subspace is destined to engulf all, yet also stands as the crucible for rebirth! The initial flames have waned, leaving mere glowing remnants… only by kindling a subsequent blaze can our world bask in that divine grace once more!”
Oooh we got a “half” title drop
Lol nice
Dark soul vibes