Chapter 604: Duncan’s Thought Process

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The image in the mirror began to slowly disappear. Duncan, however, continued to stand there, deeply engrossed in his thoughts for what felt like an eternity.

He had always been transparent with Lucretia about the unique phenomenon of his “incarnations” and the capabilities associated with them. Ai, his “messenger”, had the impressive ability to quickly move between the “beacons” created by these incarnations. Furthermore, Duncan could effortlessly shift his dominant consciousness and power among these incarnations at a moment’s notice. This talent was not only extraordinarily powerful but also immensely practical. Yet, in the city-state of Wind Harbor, he had refrained from establishing any such “incarnation.”

Certainly, one reason was his struggle to locate a suitable “vessel” for the incarnation. But there was a more profound, secret reason he had kept hidden from everyone.

He continued to gaze into the mirror, studying the features of the face staring back at him.

Over time, Duncan had become completely familiar with this face, which had initially felt so foreign to him. This robust physique, with its serious and commanding presence, had become the way by which this world recognized him, just like the avatars he had over at Pland and Frost.

He was confident that if there were to be additional long-lasting “incarnations” in the future, he would be able to adjust to them, whether it was one more, ten more, or even more than that. Adaptability was one of his strengths.

Upon reflection, he understood that his mental resilience was not only stronger but also more unique than he had previously acknowledged. The challenge of managing and balancing multiple identities and lives didn’t overwhelm him as he had once anticipated. The fears of experiencing mental fragmentation or developing personality disorders never came to fruition.

However, Duncan still consciously resisted the temptation to establish new “incarnations”. He restrained himself from pursuing a body in Wind Harbor to act as another “beacon”.

Duncan’s apprehension wasn’t about the potential confusion from having numerous incarnations. He recognized that the residual emotions and memories from these host bodies had only a negligible influence on him. Their feeble willpower posed no threat to his dominant spirit.

His real fear was of a different nature.

If he began to regard the act of “occupying bodies” as commonplace, or started to perceive the control of multiple destinies as a mere strategy, he worried that, one day, something far more treacherous than merely “losing himself” might occur. After experiencing the lives of dozens or even hundreds of incarnations, would he remain as responsible and considerate towards the consequences of his actions as he was now?

Perhaps in such a scenario, another character like “Nina” would come into play, but he might not remain the compassionate “Uncle Duncan” that he once was.

The very essence of human nature can decay when caught off guard.

Thus, with this revelation, he resolved to tread lightly when it came to the matter of “new incarnations,” only considering it when it was truly appropriate or absolutely imperative.

Of course, Duncan didn’t hesitate when it came to temporarily taking over the bodies of certain cult members to gather intelligence. In his mind, this was much like making use of short-term assets that are used briefly and then discarded without a second thought.

A fine veil of black mist began to silently unfurl within the mirror. Emerging from the thickening haze was the image of Agatha.

Upon spotting the captain gazing into the mirror, Agatha instinctively withdrew, minimizing her reflection until it occupied only a small fraction of the mirror’s surface. With an inquisitive look, she addressed Duncan, “Are you still mulling over the ‘proposal’ Miss Lucretia presented earlier?”

Duncan let out a soft sigh and said, “Perhaps she retains some reservations about my intentions. Her suggestion seems to have an underlying tone of suspicion. But that’s not what’s consuming my thoughts at the moment.”

Agatha nodded in understanding, choosing not to delve deeper into the subject. She redirected the conversation, asking, “So, what’s our next course of action?”

Laying out their plan, Duncan said, “The ‘Vanished’ will keep navigating north, going beyond Wind Harbor’s northern course. We need to ascertain if the ‘Dream of the Nameless One’ persists even when we’ve distanced ourselves to such an extent. If the ‘Vanished’s’ image continues to surface in the dreams of Atlantis, then Vanna and the others will move forward according to the plan. Right now, our attention should primarily be directed towards Rabbi. That elusive rabbit is stowed away on the ship of the Annihilators, and they’re convening a meeting as night approaches. I’m intrigued to discover the agenda of that assembly.”

With a contemplative expression, Duncan continued, his eyes reflecting a sense of eager anticipation, “For now, we await further updates from Lucretia’s end.”

Agatha listened intently, absorbing every detail. When Duncan paused, she voiced a lingering curiosity, “If the ‘Dream of the Nameless One’ remains unchanged, how do you intend to deal with the ‘reflection’ of the ‘Vanished’ as it navigates through the shadowy mists? Your actual form is here on this ship, and that ‘vine’ manifestation is exclusive to Wind Harbor…”

Duncan cast a smile at Agatha’s diminished reflection in the corner of the mirror, reminding her, “Do you remember? The last ‘Dream of the Nameless One’ was interrupted when I, from the real world, reached out to the vine, entering that obscure dimension and assuming control of the ‘Vanished’s reflection’ as an external entity. Once I returned to our reality, I mentioned having devised a solution to this predicament.”

Puzzled, Agatha questioned, “This solution you’re referring to…”

His smile undiminished, Duncan shifted his focus to the landscape beyond the window. In the mirror, he gracefully lowered his posture, aligning his image alongside Agatha’s.

Within the reflection, the mirrored Duncan leaned forward, making contact with the downsized image of Agatha, now about the size of his hand, and said with a hint of mystery, “This, my dear, is my solution.”

Agatha was caught off guard for a brief moment. Inside this alternate universe, reflected by the mirror, she slowly raised her head to gaze upon the captain. To her surprise, he too had stepped into this otherworldly mirrored domain. There was a brief, yet palpable pause where the only thing that could be heard was the weight of their mutual astonishment. After a couple of seconds, Agatha’s eyes widened, and a soft, almost inaudible gasp escaped her lips. Suddenly, and much to her horror, her reflection fragmented, breaking apart into countless shards.

Within the mirror’s dimension, Duncan sighed with an air of resignation. He crouched down, taking great care to gather the scattered shards of Agatha’s shattered reflection. Each piece was meticulously picked up, and he began the delicate task of trying to piece her back together. As he worked, he murmured to himself, “You really ought to be more adaptable, especially living on this ship. You’d do well to take a page from Morris or Vanna’s book. In fact, Morris has even managed to reconcile with the idea of doing Shirley’s homework assignments lately…”

……

Lucretia sat poised in front of the ornate mirror, deeply engrossed in her reflections. The room was quiet, save for the gentle flicker of candles that cast an eerie glow on her surroundings. As time seemed to stand still, a mystical voice pierced the silence. It belonged to Rabbi, a magical rabbit, and it echoed from a shimmering crystal ball situated not too far from her.

“Mistress, do you fear that the venerable old master harbors resentment towards you?” Rabbi’s voice inquired with genuine concern.

Caught off guard, Lucretia turned towards the source of the voice. “And what makes you think that?” she questioned with a hint of defensiveness.

Rabbi’s voice came through with a delicate hesitance, “Your recent advice seemed as if you were probing the old master, trying to gauge whether he retains the understanding and essence of a normal human being. He could potentially be offended by such implications…”

Drawing herself up, Lucretia responded, “I wasn’t questioning my father’s integrity or sanity. Perhaps, in hindsight, I might not have thought my actions completely through.” Her voice then took on a sharper edge, “However, for you to eavesdrop on my private conversation with him suggests you have too much leisure on your paws.”

“I’m merely seeking distraction!” Rabbi’s voice chirped with an exaggerated pitch, filled with both humor and anxiety. “I’m in a precarious position here. Surrounded by these dim-witted, unsightly cultists, I converse with you to maintain my sanity. If not, there’s a good chance I’d give in to the urge to… oh, I don’t know, maybe devour every single one of them.”

Choosing to disregard the more eccentric parts of Rabbi’s outburst, Lucretia replied with detached calm, “How you carry out my directives is your concern. If you’re found by that so-called ‘Saint,’ don’t bank on me rushing to save you.”

Rabbi, attempting to inject some levity into the tension, responded, “Oh, but surely you would, Mistress. Rabbi has faith in you. If something were to happen to me, I trust you’d summon my spirit back and sew it into a fresh vessel. Perhaps a cuddly teddy bear this time?”

Lucretia, showing a hint of her growing impatience, lightly rapped the crystal ball, “You’re becoming tiresome with your constant chatter.”

And with that, Rabbi ceased her ramblings, leaving the room once again in contemplative silence.

……

The vast structure known as “Vision 001” was steadily descending into the horizon, and as it did, the once blinding sunlight transitioned into a captivating golden hue, painting gentle beams across the undulating waves. The sunlight that streamed through the ship’s windows now took on a mellower tone.

The atmosphere grew tense with anticipation as the hour of the assembly approached. The quiet hum of the ship was occasionally interrupted by footsteps and muffled greetings exchanged between the ship’s crew and the sect members.

A statuesque, slender man with stern features slowly lifted himself from his resting place, taking a moment to absorb the faint noises from outside.

After having spent most of the day resting and overseeing the healing of his death crow, his energy was now restored. He felt reinvigorated.

This formidable figure, known as Richard the Annihilator, took a deep breath, then purposefully strode towards the wardrobe tucked in a corner. From within, he retrieved a dark, hooded robe, the standard garb designated for the upcoming congregation.

Truth be told, Richard had never been particularly fond of this cloak. While many members of the dark sect believed this garment to be crucial for spiritual concentration and enlightenment, Richard had always begged to differ.

To him, the robe felt restrictive, cumbersome for urban excursions, and anachronistic. It was reminiscent of the attire worn by prisoners of ancient dungeons, left to rot in their damp cells. The notion that it enhanced “spiritual concentration” was absurd to him.

Would a true believer really require mere cloth to align their soul with the Great Nether Lord?

Yet, on this occasion, he felt an unexpected warmth towards it. Being shrouded entirely, blending seamlessly among his peers provided an odd sense of security.

As he draped himself with the robe and drew the hood to cover his face, a comforting sensation enveloped him. He exhaled softly, gearing up to leave.

Before he could turn the handle, a sudden, chilly draft wafted through the cabin. It felt as if a lithe shadow was darting towards him, zigzagging in the air. Almost instinctively, he sensed a feather-like weight settle on his shoulder.

A gentle voice, barely audible, murmured in his ear, “You’ve taken Rabbi’s stuffing… Now, shall we proceed?”

“Let’s move forward,” he responded softly, a warm and fuzzy feeling blossoming in his chest.

It was merely cotton.

But this wasn’t just any cotton; it was living, growing.

Richard cracked a comforting smile and proceeded to open the door.

As he stepped into the corridor, he encountered many draped in similar dark robes, all moving towards the heart of the ship. Whispered exchanges filled the air, discussing the Dream of the Nameless One, revelations about the saint, updates on allies, and the recent exploits of the Ender Missionaries.

With determination and Rabbi by his side, Richard embarked on his quest.

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