Deep Sea Embers

The “Subspace Door” was indeed shut – he had previously been on its other side, and its near-effortless closure had completely sealed off the door that was almost unbreakable in the physical realm.

Issuing a gentle sigh, he gazed up at the top of the door to find the enigmatic ancient text clearly etched on the doorframe: “This door leads to the Vanished.”

“To the Vanished…” Duncan couldn’t help but reminisce about the situation on the other side of the door, recalling the abandoned and decaying Vanished traversing subspace for many years. He suddenly gained a deeper understanding of the words on the doorframe.

The inscription on the door was true, and the other side truly led to the Vanished – another Vanished, the distorted reflection of the real Vanished in subspace.

Duncan picked up the lantern and turned to leave the lower cabin, quickly navigating through the contrasting light and shadow of the cargo hold and the upper structure, eventually returning to the captain’s quarters.

“Ah, Captain! You’re back!” Goathead was still there, puzzled, and the first thing he did when he saw Duncan was to blurt out, “Why did you suddenly leave? You just said you went to subspace? You can’t joke about that! You…”

“I closed the ‘Subspace Door’ at the bottom of the ship,” Duncan casually mentioned as he set down the lantern, “I went back down just now to inspect it from ‘this side.\'”

Goathead’s speech was abruptly cut off, accompanied by another “crack” as his head hit the table.

Duncan couldn’t help but glance at him: “Take it easy, don’t develop the same problem as Alice.”

Goathead didn’t mind the captain’s playful tone, and he didn’t conceal his amazement either: “You closed that door!? You mean, you shut the door from the subspace side?”

“What else?” Duncan retorted, “Isn’t that door impossible to close from ‘this side’? Why else would I bother going there?”

“You… you did it just for that?” Goathead stammered, “You entered subspace and returned to the physical dimension solely to close that door from the other side? That’s… that’s not an ordinary wooden door for a storage room or a junk room. You just… closed it?!”

Duncan’s mood improved somewhat as he delightfully observed Goathead, who usually talked so much it could make people’s brains boil and become inarticulate.

But then Duncan realized he hadn’t explained the situation clearly, leading Goathead to have some misconceptions – but primarily, he wanted to witness how Goathead’s mouth would contort, which was the ultimate entertainment on the Boundless Sea.

Amidst the joy, the residual unease from exploring the “wrecked Vanished,” and that dark space significantly diminished.

However, Duncan eventually spoke up. After all, the matter involved subspace, and clarifying certain aspects could help avoid future hazards. Additionally, Goathead possessed a wealth of hidden knowledge, and his insights might prove helpful: “I know you’re anxious, but don’t worry, just listen to me first – I did close that door, but entering subspace was unintentional, and I need your opinion.”

“An… accident?” Goathead was caught off guard, and his tone instantly shifted from astonishment to extreme seriousness, “Please tell me, what exactly transpired?”

Duncan recounted to Goathead how he had entered subspace after awakening from a light slumber – naturally, he left out the details of his exploration in that dark realm, focusing instead on the door at the bottom of the ship and the various scenes he witnessed while observing the chaos from the deck.

After all, aside from his own “true name” and “origin,” there was little else he needed to conceal from Goathead. Hiding his true name and origin was primarily because the stability of the Vanished had to be based on the “anchor point” of “Captain Duncan.”

Goathead listened intently to Duncan’s narrative without uttering a word.

Then he conceded that he was uncertain about the situation as well…

“According to your description, that was indeed subspace,” Goathead said candidly, “but I have never encountered a case like this, where you directly… ‘entered’ there in your sleep and then returned unharmed… You should be aware that although subspace poses a significant threat to the physical dimension, it doesn’t mean that it is an easily ‘accessible’ place. Its danger lies more in the fact that its contamination is unstoppable.

“Mental vulnerabilities, shaken faith, and misguided sacrifices can all result in the infiltration of subspace forces, but ‘infiltration’ and entering it like you did… ‘exploring’ are entirely different concepts.”

At this point, he paused, then turned his head, his vacant, pitch-black eyes staring directly at Duncan: “Captain, were you truly unaffected by anything over there? Do you genuinely… not feel any lingering effects in your head?”

“No,” Duncan spread his hands, appearing utterly sincere, “Do I look like I’m out of my mind? I’m perfectly normal.”

Goathead was at a loss for words.

Duncan then said thoughtfully, “I’ve always seen you worried about the Vanished falling back into subspace, and I assumed it was easy to fall in…”

“This… is a relative notion,” Goathead explained awkwardly, “Falling from the physical dimension is perilous, but even the Vanished wouldn’t just ‘fall’ easily. ‘It’s dangerous to fall’ and ‘it’s easy to fall’ are not synonymous. Furthermore… how can I explain it to you? Typically, the victims who tragically plummet into subspace… their process and experience of entering subspace are entirely distinct from yours. It’s an excruciatingly painful and horrifying process, and it’s often challenging to simply end with death…”

Duncan listened attentively and pondered for a moment before shaking his head: “I genuinely didn’t feel anything…”

Goathead hesitated for a while and sighed, causing Duncan to be taken aback by the behavior. This chatty creature had nothing to say for the first time in their relationship!

He considered momentarily and then asked earnestly, “…Should I be more concerned?”

“…You are truly deserving of the title ‘Mobile Catastrophe of the Boundless Sea’…” Goat’s voice lacked emotion, merely reciting mechanically like muscle memory.

“Let’s not discuss this matter,” Duncan waved his hand, shifting the topic, “What were those immense shadows I saw in subspace? The shattered lands, debris, and that pale one-eyed colossus… What are they?”

Goathead suddenly became quiet. After nearly half a minute, he spoke slowly, “…As you saw, they were merely debris.”

“Merely debris?” Duncan frowned, “That’s not much of an explanation. Whose debris? Where did it come from? When did the wreckage…?”

“The wreckage of worlds,” Goathead said, “All those that didn’t endure until today have transformed into distorted shadows in the ancient past of subspace.”

Duncan appeared taken aback, then repeated gravely, “The wreckage of worlds?”

Goathead grew silent once more, seemingly hesitating and weighing something. Ultimately, he raised his head slightly, “Do you believe the Boundless Sea is immense? Do you think… our current reality is still expansive?”

Duncan blinked, then suddenly realized, “You mean, everything in the current physical dimension…”

“…Yes, what remains after the fall,” Goathead whispered, “A trivial remnant, with a few tenacious settlements clinging to it.”

Duncan paused, then suddenly thought of something, “Is this the truth of the Great Annihilation?”

“It’s merely an insignificant portion of it,” Goathead said in a low voice, “The entire truth of the Great Annihilation has been buried in the river of time, and reconstructing its full picture is pointless.

“In your words, there lies a ‘cosmic horizon’ where all information exists beyond the unfathomable and undetectable realm. Unless a truly omniscient and omnipotent being could instantly uncover the secrets of all the planes of existence: subspace, deep sea, spirit realm, and the physical dimension, then there’s no way of knowing what transpired ten thousand years ago?”

“I know what you wish to ask, but I regret to say that this is all I know, and I don’t guarantee that it’s entirely accurate. I do know some parts related to subspace, but even the so-called ‘truth’ might not necessarily remain unchanged after being influenced by subspace. Cause and effect, the sequence of time, all are meaningless there, and as for my fragmented knowledge… I can’t even determine how much of it is genuine memory and how much is residual shadows left over from my separation from subspace.”