Deep Sea Embers

In a vast expanse of turmoil, a grotesque, deformed sun burned silently, its eerie glow casting light on clusters of flesh that formed malevolent “stars,” a far cry from their original identities.

This ominous entity goes by several names: The Black Sun, the Creeping Sun Wheel, the True Black Sun, among others. Speculation abounds about its origins. Was it once a genuine star, encased in a Dyson sphere by a now-extinct civilization, or is the sphere itself a remnant of that civilization, serving as the sole evidence of its former glory?

Among the many bizarre entities Duncan has encountered in this realm, the Black Sun is undoubtedly the most singular “Old God” he has come across. It symbolizes the amalgamation of a once-great civilization and its nurturing star, now fused into this aberrant form. This fusion may account for its decay proceeding at a pace faster than that of other Old Gods, its essence unraveling from the moment of its transformation.

Despite the Black Sun’s pleas, Duncan remains wary, sensing hidden depths and secrets within this twisted celestial body that perhaps even the Four Gods are unaware of, which keeps him on alert.

For now, the Black Sun holds back its secrets, and Duncan is not inclined to probe further. The Black Sun has hinted at an impending end but suggests there is still time for contemplation, understanding, and building trust.

8

“I cannot agree to your request at this moment,” Duncan communicated, expressing his reservations, “I lack sufficient knowledge about you, and more critically, I’m unsure about your plan for reshaping the world. Until I gain clarity on these matters, I cannot pledge my support.”

“That is understandable,” came a deep, resonant reply from within the Black Sun, its voice vibrating with layers of sound, “Then take the time to validate your plan, find your path… You will seek me out again, of that I am certain.”

Duncan, curious, inquired, “Will you maintain this ‘projection’ here at all times? So, if I need to consult with you, I should return to this specific location?”

“The sanctum of the refuge limits my influence, and forcing entry would harm the mortal realm – but here, my presence is unrestricted, free from consequences,” the Black Sun patiently explained, “I will maintain this projection. As long as you’re in the ‘borderlands,’ you can reach out to me… I will be listening.”

Duncan nodded in acknowledgment: “Understood.”

In the midst of this chaotic void, the Black Sun momentarily trembled before regaining its calm. Although Duncan had not agreed to its proposal, the entity seemed to accept this non-committal stance as a satisfactory temporary resolution. Its corona gently enveloped itself, and its massive singular eye, partially obscured by flesh, closed in a semblance of rest.

“It’s so quiet…” Duncan was caught off guard by the soft, dreamlike utterance of the deformed sun, “It has been ages since I’ve felt this kind of ‘quiet’… Even the searing flames now feel bearable.”

Understanding the nature of the ‘quiet’ being referred to, Duncan observed with a complex expression, “…you can no longer hear the prayers and sacrifices offered to you.”

“Yes, it’s as if they never existed,” the Black Sun responded gently, “This might be the respite I’ve longed for.”

Duncan tried to discern any emotion in its tone, pondering whether the Black Sun felt relief or perhaps a hint of sorrow, but the voice was too serene to reveal anything definitive.

He contemplated the nature of divine decay and ventured, “…When the ‘rot’ reaches its peak, what becomes of you? Do you simply cease to exist? Or do you linger in a state where you’re disconnected from everything, forgotten by the world, as you described?”

“I don’t know, as no Old God has fully succumbed to decay, and the final outcome remains a mystery,” the Black Sun answered slowly, “But it’s expected that the refuge world will continue to ‘fade’ along with us…”

“Long ago, we used our collective memories, born from the ashes of great cataclysms, to create the ‘materials’ for constructing the sanctuary as you know it. As the gods decay, the refuge, built from these ‘materials,’ will also deteriorate – symbolizing the gradual erasure of all memory of the old world as we disintegrate.”

“One day, the ocean will forget how to form waves, life will lose the concept of death, flames will not know how to burn, wind will stop blowing, clouds will fall from the sky to the sea… even if the ‘sun’ created by Navigator One rises again, it won’t stop the collapse that begins at the very foundation of the world…”

Duncan absorbed these profound words, his thoughts drifting to the palace on the black stone island, recalling the Leviathan Queen who died alone within its walls.

To protect the real world from her “decay,” she isolated her “end” within the palace’s temporal flow, but now, even that isolation has ended.

“This feels like an end as obscure and lightless as the last flicker of a flame,” Duncan commented, his voice tinged with emotion.

“The end of time is inherently dim and lightless, just as the brightest stars eventually cool and fade,” the Black Sun replied gently, “Moreover, since the refuge world was created, the ‘rot’ of the gods has been an integral part of its history, with realities continuously eroding away from the true dimension. Who could notice… they have already vanished.”

Duncan contemplated these words, a chill running through him as he grasped the full implications of the Black Sun’s statement: “…What exactly are you suggesting?”

After a pause, the Black Sun asked, “Do you remember how many intelligent races once thrived in the Boundless Sea?”

Duncan’s thoughts briefly clouded, but he instinctively replied, “I thought there were four…”

He hesitated, sensing something amiss with that number.

“Which four?” the Black Sun pressed, its voice calm yet profound.

Duncan fell silent, the realization hitting him with profound clarity, leaving him speechless.

After a short pause, the Black Sun continued, its tone steady, “You recall their existence but not their names or appearances. I, too, remember they existed but can no longer picture them… because the entities responsible for preserving their memory have been ‘decaying’, and ultimately, the world ‘corrected’ this by erasing their memory, reducing the lifespan of the sanctuary.”

“Usurper, this is our world’s reality. It has happened before and continues now, with the ‘Black Sun’ disappearing from the world’s view being just a minor aspect of this widespread disintegration.”

“There’s no need for grief, for death and oblivion have always unfolded this way.”

…

As the door of Alice’s Mansion creaked shut, sealing away the external world, the artificial sunlight vanished as if it had never been there.

The mansion’s tall, slender windows were covered in grime, with thorn-like shadows blocking any light. Sunlight seemed a distant concept, visible only when the main door was open.

Duncan returned to the dim hall, standing in the unusual quiet for a long time before exhaling softly.

Beside him, Alice remained silent while she looked anxiously towards the door, her unease evident.

She seemed eager to ask questions but unsure what to ask.

“I couldn’t follow your conversation with the ‘Black Sun’,” she admitted, scratching her head, “But your demeanor suggests it was serious, right Captain?”

Duncan turned to Miss Doll, his expression softening after a moment.

“It’s fine if you didn’t understand,” he reassured her, stroking Alice’s hair gently, “These are concerns for me to reflect on.”

“Oh,” Alice said, her expression showing a glimmer of understanding before quickly shifting to another question, “So, are you considering the Black Sun’s proposal? About the location of that… new world or whatever it was.”

Despite not fully grasping the exchange with the Black Sun, she understood that it had made a request of Duncan.

Duncan paused thoughtfully under Miss Doll’s watchful eye. “I’m not certain yet, but the ‘new world’ it mentioned, holding some evidence of it, intrigues me,” he mused, “And there’s something else that has caught my attention even more…”

Alice’s curiosity was piqued: “What else?”

“The true form of the Black Sun,” Duncan disclosed, directing Alice’s curious gaze with his hand, “My interest in that is growing.”

Alice processed his words, her face a mix of understanding and bewilderment: “So… are we going to search for its real form?”

“No,” Duncan responded with a gentle smile, “That’s a task for another day; we have more pressing issues to address.”

“Pressing issues?”

Duncan’s face showed a mixture of feelings: “…Remember the decoding we need to do?”

“Oh, right!” Alice exclaimed, as realization hit her.