Deep Sea Embers

Chapter 825: Circular Convergence

priest john departed with a complex yet determined look on his face. he asked no questions before leaving, nor did agatha offer any further explanation.

now, agatha found herself alone again in the prayer room, where the bright lights fought valiantly against the encroaching darkness from outside, which seemed almost to have a physical presence. the candlesticks in front of the sacred statue flickered weakly with a few lingering flames while wisps of smoke continued to rise from the recently extinguished fire in the basin. in a nearby floor mirror, agatha’s reflection appeared fragmented and disjointed.

turning towards the revered image of bartok, she raised her head. although her eyes were covered by a black cloth, she gazed intently at the figure enshrouded in the night. to her, the statue, which remained unchanged to any observer, now seemed to be filled with cracks, resembling a pile of debris miraculously held together by some unseen force.

the atmosphere within the cathedral felt increasingly filled with the presence of death. it was as though the very foundation of this world was slowly decaying and dying. now, it seemed nearly everyone was transitioning from the living to the state of the dead. individuals who had died unwittingly were active throughout the city-state, including within the church itself. john had passed away, succumbing during midday prayers the previous day; sister lora had died in a light sleep. yet, they continued their duties within the cathedral as if nothing had changed.

abruptly, a flicker of uncertain flame appeared in the mirror beside her, turning it pitch black before a figure emerged clearly within it.

as agatha turned, she saw not captain duncan in the reflection but tyrian.

tyrian spoke first, “my father crafted this path to forge connections among those ‘blessed’ by his fire. miss agatha, how are things with you?”

“the number of deceased within the cathedral is on the rise,” agatha replied softly, a hint of sorrow in her voice. “many have transitioned from living to dead under surprisingly ordinary circumstances. it seems unstoppable, beyond the reach of any remedy or safeguard.”

“the same situation is unfolding elsewhere in the city-state,” tyrian responded gravely, “and indeed, in other city-states across the world.”

agatha nodded in acknowledgment, pausing to consider before she added, “but the presence of the moving dead is not our greatest concern. the true problem lies in the increasing number of people who are ‘awakening.'”

“yes,” tyrian acknowledged with a grave tone, “as my father had forewarned, the mechanism designed to ‘correct’ the world is breaking down. the god of death’s last intervention delayed the complete collapse of our sanctuary but, in the process, damaged its ‘correction’ mechanism. now, this protective barrier, which was supposed to safeguard the minds of ordinary individuals, is deteriorating, and it’s happening more rapidly than we anticipated.”

“even so, governor tyrian, i urge you not to worry excessively. whether it be the clergy within our church or the guardians and law enforcement personnel outside, many have spent their entire lives training to face such unprecedented calamities, even those that directly impact them.”

“it’s likely that no one foresaw a reality where gods would forever slumber, where even our world would face demise, or that our current predicament would be as grave as it is. nevertheless, we’ve prepared for ‘everything.’ no matter the circumstance, our primary commitment is to our duties without conditions.

“a few days back, i briefed our team of priests. i informed them about an unfolding disaster, invisible to them as of yet, advised them on safeguarding those ‘awakening,’ and provided guidance for dealing with their own potential ‘awakening.’

“some of them now share our understanding of the situation, while others have yet to comprehend the full significance of these directives – but this has not hindered their adherence to them.

“i trust that the external law enforcement will act similarly.

“among any group, there will undoubtedly be individuals who falter, who are overwhelmed by fear or mental strain, failing to meet their responsibilities. yet, importantly, those who steadfastly fulfil their roles are not few, governor tyrian. regardless of when or how the world’s end arrives, we are ready for it.”

yet, an unexpected, shrill noise erupted in the distance, swiftly followed by a cacophony of explosions and the grinding sound of metal on metal. the ark beneath their feet shuddered violently, emitting a deep groan as if some internal mechanism had ceased operation.

a sense of dread washed over frem in an instant.

shortly thereafter, a woman priestess, clad in a dark robe and her face obscured by a veil, rushed to frem’s side.

“your holiness, the main power conduit of the ice-breaking device has suffered a rupture!”

...

meanwhile, the vanished and bright star traversed a monochromatic grey-white expanse. at the end of this prolonged “transition channel,” a subtle infusion of color was beginning to emerge.

duncan, stationed at the bow of the vanished, gazed silently towards the slowly materializing seascape ahead. he detected approaching footsteps, accompanied by a sense of “warmth” that had become a rarity in this world.

turning, duncan observed nina behind him, enveloped in a gentle radiance, the sunlight cascading around her, seemingly dispelling the pervasive chill left by the world’s demise.

“...have you discovered a new application for ‘sunlight’?” duncan queried, his eyebrows arched in amusement, a smile gracing his face before he grew contemplative, “your control has become increasingly refined – initially, even attempting to boil water with a flame would result in singed hair.”

nina responded with a slight squint, “yes, and it would occasionally singe those shadowy passersby from the darkness and various demons.”

“...i’m inclined to believe their presence wasn’t merely coincidental.”

“it’s of no consequence.”

a momentary silence ensued between them.

then, in a soft tone, nina broke the silence, “...we’re almost there.”

“yes,” duncan replied gently, poised to articulate further thoughts, but before he could, the indistinct hues at the periphery of his vision burst forth into a serene expanse of sea and islands dotting the horizon.

“space jump... concluded.”