Chapter 774: Convergence Window

Chapter 774: Convergence Window

After they sailed past the critical marker of six nautical miles, the environment around the Vanished and the Bright Star underwent a strange transformation.

The ocean and the fog abruptly disappeared, replaced by an odd twilight that enveloped the sky. This twilight spread everywhere, making it seem as though the entire world beyond the edges of the ships had lost its definition. Every distinct feature merged into a homogenous and indistinct... backdrop. The two ghostly vessels seemed to be gliding through this monochrome expanse as if they were floating in a void.

“...This isn’t what the church’s records suggested,” Vanna remarked, gazing out at the transformed surroundings, her words flowing without thought. “The documents mentioned that even after crossing the six nautical mile threshold for some distance, the sea and the sky should remain visible... I recall Miss Lucretia pointing this out too.”

Duncan, deep in thought, quietly lifted his gaze to observe Sailor, who was now clenching the wheel with a noticeable tension. After a brief pause, he finally broke the silence: “Maybe this is the scenario that unfolds when Anomaly 077 is ‘properly triggered’—we’re navigating through a unique ‘corridor’, shielded from the chaotic temporal disturbances that lie beyond the critical boundary.”

“But how long will we be traveling through this corridor, Captain?” Alice inquired, her curiosity piqued, standing beside him.

After a moment of reflection, Duncan shook his head, indicating uncertainty: “Even I can’t say for sure.”

Alice’s inquisitive eyes then shifted to Sailor managing the helm.

Feeling the weight of her stare, Anomaly 077’s anxiety heightened, causing him to retract slightly and protest, “Don’t look at me, I’m just as clueless. I’m merely handling the ship...”

As he spoke, he endeavored to maintain a stern demeanor, making slight adjustments to the wheel. Yet, in truth, he was unsure of the direction they were headed, merely moving the wheel back and forth to seem occupied. Given the surreal circumstances, the ship’s precise “course” seemed irrelevant to the position of the helm...

Duncan, perceptive but opting not to comment, checked the condition of the Vanished to ensure all was well, then shifted his focus away from Sailor’s predicament. He cast his gaze towards the nearby Bright Star, mentally reaching out: “Lucy, how are things on your side?”

“Everything’s as usual here, apart from Rabbi, who’s so terrified he’s barricaded himself inside a box, refusing to emerge,” came Lucretia’s immediate reply, her concern evident. “He’s incessantly babbling that we’re ‘plummeting’... plummeting towards the ‘end of the world’. It’s quite worrying.”

“Crashing towards the apocalypse?” Duncan’s brow furrowed in concern as he mulled over Rabbi’s frantic declaration. He turned his attention away from the conversation, his gaze sweeping across the deck to the ship’s edge, which was enveloped in a uniform expanse of “gray-white” that seemed to represent a vast emptiness.

“It could be referring to the ‘external barrier’,” Duncan mused, “Or possibly something that lies even further beyond that barrier.”

“Something beyond the barrier?” came Lucretia’s voice, tinged with confusion.

“...Ashes, the chaotic and unfathomable remnants of the old world that weren’t used as ‘building blocks’ for the new sanctuary,” Duncan elaborated, his mind tracing back to a recent discussion with Ray Nora. He remembered the Frost Queen’s words about the extreme purity and the terrifying “void” that exists at the world’s edge. An insight struck him, “...For a fish, the world of air would indeed be an incomprehensible void and an apocalypse.”

On the Bright Star’s bridge, Lucretia, upon hearing her father’s interpretation, seemed to grasp something deeper. She then glanced at the box near the helm, which was gently shaking with Rabbi’s ear peeking out, visibly trembling.

Miss Witch scowled slightly: “...As a creature meant to instill fear in others, must you be so frightened?”

“What’s that?” Luni, too, noticed the enigmatic lines and shapes materializing on the “corridor’s outer wall”, her eyes widening in astonishment.

In the instant following her inquiry, the vague, seemingly detached “outlines”, began to shift within the gray-white backdrop.

The once indistinct black lines began to shiver and swiftly reorganize themselves into coherent shapes, while the shadows around them expanded, filling in the outlines with color. A ship, as if being “printed” onto the corridor’s outer wall from the uniform gray-white backdrop, suddenly materialized and started to align itself with the trajectory of the Vanished and the Bright Star.

This occurrence was akin to a wayward traveler abruptly “bursting into” the corridor, and the once abstract and warped shadow of the ship, upon coming into the view of the Vanished and the Bright Star, rapidly assumed a more recognizable... “form”.

Lucretia, caught off-guard, dashed to the porthole with the swiftness of the wind, her gaze fixed intently on the newly appeared ship within the corridor.

She instantly identified the faint emblem emblazoned on the vessel.

“It’s the Sea Song!”

That vessel was the Sea Song, known for its eternal journey, meandering through the shattered currents of time.

It had navigated from a disjointed time stream, finding a brief moment of “convergence,” to intersect with the path of the Vanished and the Bright Star.

The atmosphere on the Vanished’s aft deck turned eerily silent.

Every onlooker was drawn to the vessel hovering “in mid-air” outside, observing its flag becoming more discernible and the name on its hull increasingly visible—the Sea Song was voyaging within its own temporal flow, seemingly oblivious to the nearby Bright Star as if the discrepancy in time veiled its “vision”. It passed alarmingly close, then approached the Vanished.

There, it adjusted its bearing and emitted a sequence of light signals.

Anomaly 077’s grip on the wheel tightened, his eyes widening as he scrutinized the blinking lights on the Sea Song, silently tallying the sequence and intervals as though he was counting the beats of a long-stilled heart.

“Short light-dark-short light-dark-long light...” He halted his count mid-way, even as the Sea Song continued to flash its signals. Closing his eyes briefly, he then mustered all his strength and shouted with a raspy voice, “Captain! The approaching vessel is signaling their intent!”

Duncan exhaled quietly, his face etched with a blend of gravity and resolve.

“Signal back with lights,” he instructed softly, “Give them our respects.”