Chapter 589: Gathering in the Shadows
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As twilight descended, casting a peculiar glow that merged the remnants of sunlight with the primal essence of the world’s creation, Duncan and his companions moved swiftly through the abandoned, silent streets. They soon arrived at a crossroad overrun by dense vegetation.
Tall, imposing trees, their branches spreading wide like sentinels of the skies, obscured the view above. Twisted vines coiled around nearby skyscrapers, their roots erupting from the earth and crisscrossing the street like the veins of a giant, angry creature. Amidst the eerie quiet of this urban jungle, occasional bird calls and rustling leaves broke the silence, creating an atmosphere that felt caught between dreams and waking life.
“It’s just as we left it,” Duncan remarked, staring at a sprawling vine emerging from an unknown abyss, his voice reflective.
Alice craned her neck for a better view, noting how the vine seemed even more dominant now. “Captain, doesn’t it look bigger than before? I remember it wasn’t this widespread during our last visit,” she asked cautiously.
“You’re right,” Duncan replied with a sigh. “It’s expanding.”
Alice blinked, processing the sight before them, and uttered, “Incredible.”
Duncan’s thoughts quickly shifted to his companions, particularly concerned about Vanna’s current situation.
Besides Duncan and a few of his close allies, the rest of the group found themselves in the Dream of the Nameless One, just as they had before. Strangely, their entry points in this dream were consistent with their past experiences, suggesting a peculiar stability within this dream dimension.
Vanna’s situation, however, was especially puzzling.
Once more, she was trapped in a desolate, endless desert. This time, she encountered a colossal figure who introduced himself as a “god.”
Walking beside this seemingly kind-hearted giant, she traversed the vast dunes. The giant shared numerous tales tied to the desert’s lore, significantly deviating from the age-old legends Duncan had heard from others.
What was the secret behind this desert? Who was this self-proclaimed deity? How did forgotten ages and elven tales intertwine? Most importantly, why was such a bizarre locale embedded deep within the Dream of the Nameless One?
Duncan maintained a profound mental bond with his companions, sensing their emotions and thoughts. To gain clarity, he took a deep breath, centering himself before shifting his focus back to the immediate issue.
Seeing the massive vine in their physical realm was surprisingly comforting. Duncan had worried that the traumatic events of their last encounter might have triggered unforeseen changes within the Dream of the Nameless One, potentially causing the vine to vanish or shift elsewhere. Such a twist would have hindered his investigative progress. Fortunately, the vine remained, though it had grown substantially.
Duncan pondered the implications. What if the vine continued to grow unchecked? Could it eventually consume the entire city?
Pushing away rising panic, Duncan regained his composure. He gently approached the vine, letting his fingers lightly graze its surface.
“Stay vigilant and monitor our environment,” he instructed his companions. “If anything unusual happens, alert me immediately.”
Alice, exuding readiness, affirmed, “Understood!”
Luni, humbly deferential, acknowledged, “As you wish, Old Master.”
Reassured, Duncan quieted his mind and invoked the mystical energy of the flame. This power surged through him, enhancing his senses and enabling him to merge his consciousness with the vast vine, strengthening their bond.
Given the lessons from their previous interaction, Duncan was extra vigilant not to agitate the entity known as “Atlantis.”
After what felt like mere moments, he was jolted back into consciousness, enveloped by inky blackness.
The omnipresent haze returned, obscuring his vision.
Guided by intuition, he strained his eyes, trying to pierce the dense fog.
Gradually, a hulking, vague outline began to solidify. The mist danced and twirled, revealing the majestic form of a ship he recognized. The ship, awe-inspiring in its splendor, seemed to hover ethereally in the abyss, almost as if beckoning Duncan closer.
Without hesitation, he heeded the call.
Summoning a spiritual manifestation of himself in the void, Duncan harnessed the surrounding flames to propel him toward the mysterious ship nestled deep within the fog. With a graceful descent, he landed on its deck.
Echoing his prior visit, the ship was eerily devoid of life. Wisps of mist floated lazily, the ship’s architecture casting long, shifting shadows on the fog-blanketed deck.
This time, Duncan had a different agenda. Instead of heading straight for the captain’s quarters at the ship’s stern, he surveyed his surroundings and chose a new path.
Every step he took echoed hauntingly in the vast, silent void. He maneuvered around piles of ropes and ship equipment, making his way to the entrance of the ship’s main cabin.
On the deck, Duncan observed stacks of ropes and an assortment of maritime items lying motionless in unsettling stillness, just as non-living objects would in any ordinary scenario.
However, Duncan discerned a stark difference between this uncanny incarnation of the Vanished and the one he knew. On the “authentic Vanished,” objects on the deck possessed an almost sentient nature. They would animate in response to his presence, either cheerfully acknowledging their captain or producing peculiar sounds to draw his gaze. But here, despite the ships being nearly identical in design and appearance, everything aboard this vessel seemed void of life, eerily “lifeless.”
With a hint of confusion etching his brow, Duncan’s eyes roamed over the quiet coils of ropes, half-filled buckets of water, and rusted iron hooks. In the midst of these, he abruptly paused, his gaze settling intently on a mop casually propped against a wooden partition.
After a beat, comprehension dawned on him: That mop had been positioned there by Alice when she had been on the ship earlier!
Could it be that this haunting replica of the Vanished not only mirrored its tangible twin but also dynamically updated based on real-time events aboard the genuine ship?
His mind swirled with theories. Duncan felt tantalizingly close to unraveling some intrinsic truth about this mysterious “Vanished.” But just as he was lost in thought, a subtle, whispery noise from a nearby corner jolted him back to the present.
In the profound silence shrouding this spectral ship, such a noise was incredibly jarring.
Without hesitation, Duncan pinpointed the sound’s origin and approached it.
He found himself facing a window.
On the pane, a nebulous, smog-like shadow began to materialize. This apparition, seemingly constructed from particles of shadowy dust amalgamated with the dense fog, appeared to be trying to assume a recognizable form.
Duncan intently observed the ever-evolving shadow for a few tense moments. Recognition slowly dawned on him, and he softly murmured, “Agatha?”
Hearing her name, the previously morphing shadow swiftly stabilized, crystallizing into a vivid image on the window—Agatha’s familiar figure was now clearly depicted on the glass.
Exhaling with relief, the reflected Agatha responded, “Finally, you’ve noticed me. I’ve been trying to reach out from these shadows, desperately searching for a suitable reflective surface to manifest through…”
Still absorbing the revelation, Duncan responded, “How did you manage to be here?” Then, piecing together clues, he speculated, “Did you enter via the reflected image of the Vanished?”
Nodding, Agatha replied, “Indeed, I stayed within the Vanished’s reflection as night fell. It was a gamble, but it paid off. With the modifications in the reflection, I found my way here and to you. My hypothesis was correct: at nightfall, the ‘shadow’ of our missing Vanished transforms into this ‘alternate Vanished’ you’ve encountered. The exact mechanics remain unclear, but we’ve unmistakably established a link between the two manifestations of the Vanished.”
Duncan’s brows furrowed, processing what he heard, leaving Agatha slightly anxious. “Did I overstep by taking this action without consulting you first?”
“Indeed, you should have consulted me beforehand. However, that’s not what I’m contemplating right now,” Duncan gestured dismissively. “While you stayed on the ‘reflection’ side, did you observe how this transformation occurred? Was there any distinct activity or shift within the Vanished at that time?”
Agatha shook her head, “There was no process.”
“No process?”
“Everything changed in an instant, with no transitional phase,” Agatha reiterated. “One second, I was inside the reflection of the Vanished, observing and waiting for any potential shifts in the mirrored world. The next moment, the atmosphere within the mirrored realm altered. I could sense… the shadow of the Vanished transforming into something unfamiliar. My ability to hop between mirrors was suppressed, making me unable to discern the boundaries between the spiritual realm and the real world. I couldn’t return to the regular mirrors in the real world either. It felt as if… the entire world was becoming unusually viscous, gradually solidifying…”
Duncan listened intently to Agatha’s description, then slowly turned his gaze towards the aft deck.
That was where the captain’s quarters, and the “other goat head,” were located.
“Can you move freely now?” Duncan suddenly inquired.
“It seems I’m no longer affected,” Agatha quickly responded, a hint of astonishment in her voice. “After you became aware of my presence, that peculiar oppressive feeling disappeared.”
“Good,” Duncan nodded. “Then come with me – we need to have another encounter with that ‘first mate’ who seems a bit… off.”
eerily lifeless… MC got so used to it that he is calling the “expected” outcome to be ‘eerily’. but in a sense, this one is the ordinary looking one, and the animated Vanished is the one eerily lifefull. which makes sense, since it is supposed to be a ghost ship.
I think that through subspace the “vanished” have a copy in every reality.
in this case shadow and dreams.