Chapter 555: It’s Alive
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com.
Beneath the most prestigious university in the city-state of Wind Harbor lies an underground archive, shrouded in an uncanny, almost sacred silence. This subterranean vault is more than a repository of knowledge; it is a sanctuary imbued with mystical essence. Unlike other city-states governed by institutions like the Storm Church or the Death Church, this archive in Wind Harbor holds a uniquely supernatural significance.
Only objects and beings classified as “sealed artifacts” are stored here. These are not ordinary artifacts; they are anomalies and contamination vectors ranked among the top one hundred in terms of potential danger or mysterious capabilities. This is a place for entities like Alice that exhibit lifelike characteristics.
These entities—whether anomalies or contamination vectors—share an unnerving trait: they show signs of life. Some have cognitive functions that allow them to communicate with humans or even attempt to move and escape. Regardless of the extent of their lifelike attributes, each demonstrates a basic instinct to seek pleasure and avoid harm—much like Alice, who instinctively complied when she first encountered Duncan, despite knowing nothing about him.
In simpler terms, these entities are sentient to a degree—enough to fear death but not fully comprehend it. Duncan finds this level of sentience convenient, as it often makes his work easier.
As they stand in the corridor, Lucretia looks around with palpable awe. Meanwhile, Nina and Shirley briefly widen their eyes in surprise, then inexplicably lift their faces with a smug satisfaction, though it is unclear why they feel so self-satisfied.
Ted Lir, known as the “Truth Keeper,” pauses and turns to Duncan, his eyes filled with a complex set of emotions. They are not fearful, as most people’s would be when meeting Duncan, but neither do they betray any signs of alertness or hostility. After pondering for several seconds, he finally speaks, “You should visit this place more often while you’re in Wind Harbor.”
Taken aback, Duncan responds, “That’s unusual. In other city-states, as soon as I make contact, they’d prefer I keep my distance. Places of such significance would immediately be fortified. Why are you encouraging me to visit?”
Pointing to the now eerily quiet corridor, Ted simply says, “With you here, I can finally take a break.”
Though puzzled, Duncan notices that Ted seems unfazed by the reactions of others to his comment. Ted casually drops this piece of information and continues to walk deeper into the hallowed halls of the archive.
The group follows, but Duncan purposefully lags a few steps behind. He pulls Lucretia aside and whispers, “I don’t remember much about this ‘Truth Keeper.’ Has he always carried this aura of bearing a lifetime of grievances?”
Speaking softly, Lucretia replies, “Lord Ted has recently been tasked with overseeing the graduating class here at the university.”
Duncan can’t hide his surprise when he hears Lucretia’s explanation. “Wait, the leader of the city-state’s guardians also has teaching responsibilities? I don’t recall Vanna having any such additional duties when she served as an inquisitor.”
Lucretia takes a moment to elucidate. “The divine power within our realm is intimately connected to the actions and beliefs of its devotees. For the followers of Lahem, the pursuit and dissemination of knowledge are sacred activities. That’s why the entire ecclesiastical structure here is built around an ‘academy.’ The higher-ranking priests are obliged to serve as instructors, guiding students in their academic and spiritual journey. The more senior the cleric, the more demanding and complex their teaching obligations become. As the Truth Keeper, Ted Lir has the burdensome task of overseeing the graduating class, which is the most challenging group to manage.”
Duncan is momentarily silent, pondering Lucretia’s words. A strange, unidentifiable emotion begins to surge within him. He can’t resist looking up to catch a glimpse of Ted Lir, who is walking a few steps ahead of him.
Sensing Duncan’s gaze, Ted Lir turns back. A moment of confusion crosses his features. Why is Captain Duncan, who had suffered memory loss due to some subspace incident and had been interacting with him as though they were complete strangers, now looking at him with eyes filled with a mysterious blend of understanding, nostalgia, and even sympathy?
After a brief moment of contemplation, Ted Lir dismisses the oddity and stops before a door at the end of the corridor. “Here we are—Containment Room 24,” he says, gesturing at the door in front of them.
The door is an imposing construct, intricately engraved with an array of sacred runes. It seems to be made from a dark, nearly opaque steel, inlaid with glimmering streaks of silvery-white metal. Shirley peers at the door and feels an inexplicable pull, as though her consciousness is being sucked into a dark void framed by shimmering flecks. Alarmed, she quickly looks away.
Nina, meanwhile, surveys the corridor they had just traversed and takes stock of the area surrounding Containment Room 24. Her brow furrows in puzzlement. “It’s strange that there aren’t any guards here. Shouldn’t a place of this importance and potential danger be heavily guarded?”
Ted Lir glances at her as he casually responds, “Guards are indeed posted at key strategic locations throughout the archive. However, it’s often safer to minimize human presence near the individual containment rooms. You see, some of the ‘anomalies’ stored here have the unnerving ability to psychologically parasitize humans and jump from mind to mind. Keeping a large number of guards in close proximity would actually increase the risk of these entities finding a way to break containment.”
“Sealing methods for most ‘anomalies’ and contaminants are often far more sophisticated than simply stationing a bunch of guards around them,” Lucretia elaborates. “In some cases, a single, carefully placed enchanted stone or a light dusting of a particular metallic powder on the ground can effectively contain certain anomalies for extended periods. Adding extra human presence could inadvertently create a vulnerability, especially with entities that possess intangible or formless abilities. That’s why the core areas of many containment facilities, like this one, are minimally staffed. Many of the containment procedures are self-activating and function perfectly well without human intervention.”
Ted Lir nods approvingly at Lucretia’s explanation. “Exactly. The guards positioned outside these core areas serve less to contain the entities inside than to ward off external threats. Their main job is to prevent unauthorized access that could disrupt the delicate balance of the containment procedures.” He then gently places his hand on the door to the Sample Containment Room. Following a soft, almost imperceptible clicking noise that seems to come from nowhere in particular, the door swings open. “However, the entity we’re dealing with today is an outlier, even by our standards. I’m not entirely sure if it belongs in the Sample Containment Room or should be stored elsewhere.”
As the door creaks open, they are greeted by a room that, although not especially large, is intensely lit. The walls and floors are emblazoned with an elaborate lattice of sacred symbols. The room is devoid of conventional furniture, but it has an unusual number of oil lamps filled with specially formulated oils, as well as gas lamps mounted on the walls. These multiple light sources seem designed to fill the room with an even, unyielding illumination. The centerpiece is a square platform upon which a mysterious “sample” is displayed.
Positioned next to the platform is a member of the clergy, draped in scholarly robes and donning an enigmatic dark mask. Their hands are shackled tightly, a clear sign that this individual is not a conventional guard but rather part of the containment protocol. Upon Ted Lir and the group’s entrance, the masked individual glances up, locking eyes with Ted and nodding slightly in acknowledgment.
“Has there been any change in the sample’s activity?” Ted inquires immediately.
The shackled guard shakes its head, maintaining their silence.
“Any evidence to suggest that your shackles have been tampered with?” Ted presses further.
The guard lifts their shackled hands, displaying them openly to Ted before shaking their head once again.
Satisfied, Ted Lir nods back. “Very well, you’ve done your duty admirably. You may take your leave and rest now. But remember,” Ted’s tone grows stern, “before you go, make sure to personally replace the ‘shackles’ onto the hands of the ‘statue.’ Under no circumstances are you to switch places with the statue, nor should you respond to any vocalizations it may emit, even if they sound like cries for help.”
The shackled guard nods solemnly, silently exiting the room without uttering a single word, thereby underscoring the weightiness of their responsibility and the gravity of the situation.
“After the shackled guard has departed, I can elaborate further,” Ted Lir begins, addressing Duncan and the rest of the group with a more open demeanor. “The shackles that the guard was wearing are actually a component of Anomaly 87, often referred to as the ‘Statue.’ There’s a specialized ritual protocol that allows us to temporarily borrow these shackles. Whoever wears them has to remain silent and gains the ability to restrain a designated entity within their field of vision. This technique is particularly useful when we’re dealing with newly discovered objects whose properties are uncertain, yet potentially dangerous.”
“Such as, perhaps, an unexplained ‘intruder from another reality’ that decided to make an appearance in a local marketplace?” Lucretia interjects, her eyes drifting to the mysterious substance displayed on the platform in the center of the room.
This substance seems to be a lump of what looks like metal, solidified yet eerily smooth, almost as if it had skin. It gives the unsettling impression that it had once been a fluid, or perhaps gelatinous, entity that had abruptly frozen into its current form. Protruding from its slick, metallic surface are angular, horn-like growths. They appear as if something—some entity or force—was trying to break out from within this puzzling mass.
“The angular protrusions actually began to manifest shortly after the sample was introduced to this containment room,” Ted Lir goes on to explain. “Within mere minutes of its arrival, the sample exhibited highly erratic behavior; its surface topology underwent a rapid transformation. We even contemplated relocating it to a more secure, higher-tier containment facility out of concern that it might compromise the integrity of this room’s seals. However, just as suddenly, its activity levels plummeted, stabilizing to the point where it’s now almost indistinguishable from an inert lump of metal.”
Duncan zeroes in on a particular word in Ted’s explanation. “‘Almost?'”
“Yes, ‘almost,’ because it’s not entirely inert,” Ted Lir confirms, nodding thoughtfully. “Deep within the core of this lump of matter, we’ve detected a faint but sustained signal of some form of activity. While the outer shell has hardened into this state, something at its very core remains active. In fact, you can hear it yourself.”
As he speaks, Ted Lir reaches for a hefty, magical tome he’s been carrying. Flipping it open to a designated page, he lightly taps a specific inscription.
Materializing from the thin air above the page is an object resembling a stethoscope.
Ted picks up the conjured instrument and hangs it around his neck. With the caution one might expect of a person handling high explosives, he then places the end of the stethoscope delicately upon the lump’s surface.
In the ensuing moment, a rhythmic, palpable sound fills the room, echoing off the walls and reverberating in the chests of all who are present.
Thump, thump, thump…
“There’s a heartbeat,” Ted Lir announces solemnly, looking up to meet the eyes of everyone in the room. “Inside this mysterious lump of metal beats a heart that is, against all odds, still very much alive.”
[Why was Captain Duncan, who had suffered memory loss due to some subspace incident and had been interacting with him as though they were complete strangers, now looking at him with eyes filled with a mysterious blend of understanding, nostalgia, and even sympathy?]
The personality of the middle school teacher Zhou Ming is still strong within Captain Duncan even after all that had happened to him since he arrived to this world.
Many stories melt under their own weight. But Deep Sea Embers is one of those, that while for me it was hard to begin with, the more I read, the more I got immersed into it.