Deep Sea Embers

The fine particles of sand within the hourglass were gently making their way to the bottom, hinting at a passage of time that seemed as if it could go on forever. Duncan held the hourglass with extreme care, engaging in a meaningful conversation with an entity of ancient power.

“The gods are fading away,” was a thought Duncan had come across more than once. The heads of the Four Gods had shared this dark revelation with him, explaining that the decline of the divine was not just an abstract concept but a tangible force. This force was slowly infiltrating the world of mortals, signaling its eventual doom to a catastrophic end known as the Great Annihilation.

Yet, hearing these words directly from a deity themselves painted the crisis in an even more urgent light. It made Duncan realize that the gods had been fighting against this decline with everything they had for as long as they could.

“This sanctuary, which was created in haste, is full of flaws… Everything in it is ephemeral: the protective barrier, the artificial ‘sun’, the fundamental elements that support the islands, and even us. Our end was decided from the start, determined even before the onset of what is known as the first eternal night,” explained the ancient Leviathan Queen. She spoke in a place that lacked color, defined only by shades of black, white, and gray. Despite her powerful nature, her voice carried a surprising gentleness, narrating their collective history to Duncan like a calm dream floating in the depths of the ocean.

“It took a long journey to come to terms with our ‘end’, and an even longer time for Bartok to decipher the enigma of our ‘continuous death’. We represent the ‘inertia’ of a time long past.”

“The inertia of the ancient world?” Duncan mused, his mind racing to piece together his thoughts.

“If you understand the force behind the destruction of our world and many others, then you must also realize that the Great Annihilation didn’t destroy everything in its path. Some ‘fragments’ managed to survive the catastrophic collision of worlds, and we, who are known as ‘gods’, are among these fragments.”

“However, by their nature, fragments are incomplete. Just as dust falling from a boulder eventually becomes sand and loses its original form, we too were irrevocably changed by the force of the Great Annihilation. From that moment, we were transformed into something akin to the glowing ’embers’… Yet, unlike those embers, we were able to maintain our ‘self-awareness’.”

“This consciousness of our past selves gave us the strength to rise from the ashes, trying to shape some of the surviving embers into something resembling our memories.”

“At first, this gave us a flicker of hope, the ambition to rebuild all worlds, to breathe life back into everything that had been reduced to ashes. However, it wasn’t long before we faced the reality of our ‘reconstruction’s’ limitations and began to acknowledge our own waning power…”

We exist in a condition that cannot truly be considered life; we continue as faint whispers of desire encapsulated in lifeless forms. Our ability to remember and be aware of ourselves, along with our memories of the world as it used to be, allows us to function. However, these capacities for ‘recognition’ and ‘remembrance’ are slowly diminishing over time.

“Bartok, who has the most profound understanding of ‘death’ among us, has described this phenomenon as ‘the inertia of the old world’. He argues that our existence continues not because of any decision or strength of our own, but because the ‘world refuses to fade into nonexistence’. The old world, despite being devastated by the Great Annihilation, has left behind a momentum from its existence that survives after the cataclysm, taking shape as the various survivors that outlasted the disaster – in essence, becoming us.”

“The ‘awareness of self’ and the ‘nostalgia for the old world’…” Duncan pondered, holding the hourglass in one hand and thoughtfully stroking his chin with the other, “Are these the critical elements that led to the creation of ‘sanctuaries’?”

“Exactly,” the voice answered, its gentleness masking the seriousness of their discussion, “Using our memories and awareness of self as a foundation, we tried to reconstruct the original ‘keystones’ from the surviving pieces, leading to the creation of numerous pseudo-records related to the Great Annihilation within the world. However, the quest for tangible proof of the Annihilation is in vain, because no such ‘proof’ has ever existed. Even the vast oceans are made up of bits and pieces we managed to recover from the survivors…”

“Yet, the stability of these remnants, as well as our ability to ‘recognize’ and ‘remember’, is constantly weakening over time… This gradual loss is the reason behind the ‘life limit’ concept built into the design of the sanctuary.”

Duncan pondered Gomona’s words, occasionally pausing to reflect and quietly sharing his thoughts, “‘Inertia’ is bound to fade away… which means the Doomsday Survey Team will inevitably face that ‘limit’, no matter how perfectly they carry out their mission, ‘the end of the world’ was predetermined at its beginning…”

He then recalled Crete’s admonition: “Continuing with the sanctuary has no point…”

“Truly, continuing with the sanctuary has no point,” the Leviathan Queen reiterated softly, providing deeper insight into the statement – “To ‘delay’ the Great Annihilation any longer is pointless.”

A new realization lit up in Duncan’s eyes as he looked up, noticing a pale limb beginning to rise from the edge of the pool, with eyes slowly appearing on its surface.

“Do you remember? The cataclysm brought about by the Great Annihilation is not over; it continues relentlessly, attacking the most basic logic of existence. The conflict of principles and the advance of chaos are just its visible symptoms. At its heart, it symbolizes the battle between ‘being’ and ‘non-being’ – as long as we, the ‘living’, continue to be, and as long as the sanctuary exists, the Great Annihilation will go on. It will persist until everything in the world is obliterated, and only then… will the Great Annihilation come to an end.”

The pale limb in front of Duncan drooped, its eyes, though non-human, shimmered with an intelligence and emotion akin to that of humans. It was as if, in their gaze, there was a sense of resignation or perhaps deep thought.

“What you see as a rift is actually a ‘result’, a ‘crossroads’ where all possible outcomes from every universe come together into one inevitable ‘end’ – it symbolizes the ‘ultimate point’ of the vast ocean.”

In the silence that followed Gomona’s explanation, time seemed to slow down for Duncan. After a moment, he softly said, “So, from the very beginning, this ‘world’ was haunted by the ghost of its inevitable end.”

After a short pause, he looked for Gomona’s “eyes” again, piercing the quiet: “Thus, no matter what solution we might find in the end, our first challenge is to deal with this ‘unending destruction’. We need to find a way to stop the Great Annihilation – but the only way to stop the Great Annihilation is…”

He trailed off, allowing Gomona to finish the thought in her calm voice: “To let the Great Annihilation ‘come to its natural end’.”

A profound silence fell over them, as if the universe itself had stopped to listen.

After a long moment, Duncan exhaled slowly: “This cannot be the ultimate ‘truth’ you wanted to share – there has to be more you haven’t told me yet.”

“Yes, there is more – letting the Great Annihilation ‘run its course’ could take different shapes, but with our current knowledge and abilities, ‘total destruction’ seems like the inevitable outcome of every path. However, as I’ve mentioned, this conclusion is based ‘on our current knowledge and abilities’…”

The pale limb lowered once more, making way for a spectral figure – a girl in a flowing dress, her face hidden behind a veil, who approached the edge of the pool and bowed deeply to Duncan.

Years before, she had perfected this gesture as a means of communicating with her “mortal allies,” reserved for moments of utmost importance.

“Usurper of Fire, your existence transcends our understanding and capabilities. Technically, you’re even beyond the reach of the Great Annihilation – though you are among the primordial beings, having awakened from the original flames, you aren’t just a ‘survivor’.”

“We can’t fully grasp what you are, but Navigator No. 2’s calculations hint that you might be the only ‘whole’ entity among us – possibly, you have the means to protect the remains of the old world when that ‘end’ comes.”

Duncan stayed quiet, his expression more troubled than before, his thoughts clearly burdened.

Then, it dawned on him – those “objects” that had appeared in his room!

The “Maiden of Tranquility” spoke again, her voice echoing in Duncan’s ears: “Understanding and perception, memory and information – these are seen as the foundational pillars upon which the reality of our world is built. Navigator No. 2 shared with me that it comes from a civilization that was on the brink of uncovering the universe’s basic laws, right before the onset of the Great Annihilation. It was at the peak of this civilization’s in-depth and complex explorations that a certain thinker proposed an idea. This idea is the most remarkable piece within Navigator No. 2’s collection of memories – that information is the core of all that exists; everything is essentially a form of information.”

“Information is the essence… everything is a manifestation of information…” Duncan repeated, his voice carrying a tone of deep insight. It was as though an intense, profound ‘roar’ echoed from within him, shedding light on myriad questions. The space around him seemed to vibrate, edged with the transient glow of stars at the edge of his vision before these images gradually disappeared.

He then heard the “Maiden of Tranquility” again, though her voice now sounded far away, muffled as though through a thick veil: “…To this day, Navigator No. 2 ponders over this concept, its originators on the verge of uncovering a pivotal truth, yet they only managed to pose this idea. With what we ‘survivors’ have at our disposal, in the conditions of the sanctuary, Navigator No. 2 has come to accept the possibility that it may never be able to turn this idea into a solid theory or ‘tool.’ However, your presence… has sparked a thought. There might have been a civilization, even more advanced than the one Navigator No. 2 originated from, that had already crossed that threshold.”