The Bright Star skillfully navigated farther away from the shore, adjusting its course with a subtle turn. The ancient wheel mechanisms on its sides groaned quietly under the pressure as the ship gained momentum, swiftly slicing through the dense, ominous fog ahead. It sped up, disappearing from sight as it moved further away, eventually fading completely from Duncan’s view.
Duncan stayed behind on the Vanished, his gaze locked on the last spot where the Bright Star had been visible before it vanished into the thick fog. He continued to watch long after the ship was gone, his attention only shifting when he noticed a gothic-style doll in an elaborate deep purple dress standing beside him.
The doll, known as Alice, had also been staring off into the distance. Simultaneously with Duncan, she turned her focus elsewhere.
Just then, a plump white dove landed on Alice’s shoulder. The dove looked curiously at her with its small, round eyes, reminiscent of mung beans.
The atmosphere on the Vanished had become eerily quiet. The usual chatter and activity that animated the deck were absent. There were no playful arguments between Shirley and Nina, no Morris gazing out to sea lost in thought, no Vanna sitting on a barrel carving amulets, and no sightings of the mysterious Agatha. Only Duncan, the doll, and the dove remained.
After a lengthy silence, Alice murmured, “They’re all gone...”
It was unclear to Duncan whether this was an expression of sorrow from the doll or simply an observation.
Reflecting on the departure of the others, Alice had not questioned whether she should stay; she had remained as if it had always been her intention. Her acceptance of the situation intrigued Duncan.
“When everyone else left, you didn’t ask if you could stay,” Duncan noted, looking into the doll’s eyes, “You didn’t even seem to consider it, did you?”
Alice responded with a chuckle, her tone confident, “Of course I had to stay!”
Her response was direct, implying that the decision required no justification.
Duncan paused to consider her words, then laughed and gestured around them, “You see, it seems we’ve come full circle back to the beginning.”
Alice looked around, her realization quick, “Oh, it’s just you and me left on this ship... ah, and Ai, and Mr. Goathead.”
The dove then tilted its head and began to flap its wings vigorously, squawking in a sharp, discordant female voice, “Initializing settings, initializing settings!”
Duncan watched the dove intently, reminded of his homeland by the fact that this bird hailed as a relic from Earth, and replied softly, “...Yes, initializing settings. Time to proceed to the next operation.”
He then turned away and waved to Alice without looking back, “Off we go, Alice, it’s time to fulfill our promise to Gomona.”
“Ah, yes, captain!” Alice responded eagerly.
“Aye, aye, captain!” Ai cooed loudly with her wings flapping.
...
The gaunt figure, resembling a corpse, solemnly straightened his sailor’s uniform, then nodded at Lucretia and approached the phantom-flamed helm. He climbed the spectral steps to the elevated platform and grasped the dark steering wheel firmly. The hollow howls and echoes, seemingly emanating from the depths of this apparition, soon transformed into celebratory cheers for their homeward voyage.
“Return – home!” Sailor shouted, his voice hoarse and commanding as he forcefully turned the steering wheel, “We’re going home!”
As Duncan traversed the ruins along the “Pilgrimage Path,” a distant howling echoed from the edge of the vast sea, prompting him to pause and glance back towards the source of the spectral sounds.
Alice, walking alongside him, also halted and looked around with curiosity, “What’s the matter?”
Duncan turned to her, his voice low and reflective, “...They’re returning, everything is going smoothly.”
“Is that so? That’s great,” Alice replied, her face lighting up with a smile, “I wonder how Pland is doing now...”
“Pland... is doing well.” Duncan’s response came slowly as he attuned himself to the distant and elusive “signal” that bridged time and space.
He maintained a connection with Pland, whose “avatar” remained active in the antique shop, following his previous instructions. However, Duncan felt the link weakening, not due to any environmental factors or the vast “remote distance” at the “end of the world.” This fading connection was an inevitable consequence of the “anomaly” known as “Zhou Ming” growing and awakening.
The fragile sanctuary could not endure the intense scrutiny of the “anomaly,” whose gaze, if cast even momentarily across the Boundless Sea, could obliterate it in a mere 0.002 seconds.
That was why he had sent Nina and Morris back to the Boundless Sea—to serve as his “eyes”—since he anticipated losing his own ability to observe it directly.
After a brief moment of tuning in, Duncan carefully managed his dwindling connection to the distant avatars. Sensing the escalating “awakening” within himself, he further diminished the avatars’ activity, now disabling their senses of taste, smell, and their ability to perceive temperature, pain, and other complex sensations inherently human.
These human sensations—feeling warmth or cold, pain, tiredness, and the need for sleep—had once been crucial in maintaining his identity as a human. But now, he had no choice but to gradually shut them off to prolong his observational capabilities of the Boundless Sea.
His goal was to sustain this until Nina was safely back.
“Captain?”
Alice’s concerned voice broke his focus. Duncan turned to see the doll looking at him worriedly, gently tugging at his sleeve.
“Are you okay?” Alice inquired anxiously, “You don’t look very well.”
Duncan’s expression softened gradually.
Even without the sensory feedback from the avatars, he was determined to retain his humanity.
“It’s okay,” he reassured her softly, “Let’s go, they’ve already set off, and we still have a long way to go.”