.
As the air filled with a deep, resonant rumbling, Duncan’s attention was imdiately drawn to the center of the square. He witnessed an extraordinary scene there: the square’s old, worn stone slabs started shifting fluidly like sand. A massive structure began to rise from beneath these stones. The first thing Duncan saw was a tall, grayish-white spire piercing the sky. Soon after, a grand and ancient tomb erged. This structure, a magnificent blend of a colossal pyramid and a superb palace stood solemnly and majestically. It was constructed from large, grayish-white boulders and exuded an air of silent, rustic grandeur.
Duncan watched in awe as the massive structure ascended from the earth. His curiosity was piqued as he studied its style and architecture, realizing it bore no resemblance to any current architectural styles known in the city-states. Instead, it reminded him of styles he had seen in books about the ancient Kingdom of Crete.
The ethereal projections of saints scattered around the square fell silent, their gazes drawn to the imposing pyramid-like tomb. A solemn, slightly tense atmosphere enveloped the crowd, quieting their conversations.
After a few minutes, with Vanna and Morris looking visibly confused and concerned about what might be wrong, there was movent within the tomb. The heavy stone door slowly opened with a deep, resonant sound, revealing dark, gloomy corridors inside.
The gathered soul projections stared intently at the door. A deathly silence hung in the air before giving way to low murmurs and whispered discussions.
Duncan, overhearing these discussions, sensed sothing was wrong. He turned to Vanna and quietly asked, “What’s the problem?”
Vanna, her voice tinged with confusion and unease, replied in a hushed tone, “The tomb guardian hasn’t appeared. Normally, the guardian would have erged by now.”
Duncan’s expression grew more serious with this revelation.
As ti passed, the ancient, enigmatic tomb remained silent at the center of the assembly. The expected guardian of the tomb was nowhere to be seen. The quiet murmurs among the crowd began to spread, creating a buzz of speculation.
However, so in the crowd instinctively turned their attention to Duncan, sensing his significance in this situation.
Ignoring their gazes, Duncan approached Helena with a determined stride. “It seems this is an unprecedented situation,” he said bluntly. “Do you have any strategies for handling this? If not, I’m prepared to investigate this so-called ‘tomb’ myself.”
“Wait a mont,” Helena interjected promptly, pausing briefly to gather her thoughts. She then turned to Lune and the others nearby, her decision clear in her voice, “…Let’s go over and take a closer look.”
“Alright,” Lune agreed, nodding. He then raised his voice, addressing the soul projections assembled in the square, “Everyone else, stay on standby here. Do not approach Vision 004.”
Having issued this command, he turned to join Helena, Banster, and Frem. The group began to make their way towards the imposing tomb.
Duncan, after a mont’s consideration, decided to follow them. Lune, hearing footsteps trailing behind, glanced back. Duncan casually reassured him, “I’m just going to take a look. Don’t worry, I won’t start a fire.”
At this, Lune’s expression turned sowhat complex, perhaps recalling the devastating fire that marked the end of Atlantis. Helena, after a brief hesitation, gestured to Vanna and gave a slight nod, “Vanna, you should co as well.”
“?” Vanna appeared montarily taken aback but quickly regained her composure and hurried to join them.
Morris and others remained in what they deed a “safe area,” a fair distance from the tomb. They watched anxiously as the group approached Vision 004.
Duncan, walking with Helena and the rest, reached the base of the solemn, gray-white pyramid. They stood before the silently open gate.
The corridor beyond the door stretched deep and dimly into the tomb, its faint light barely revealing the distant contours within. The interior appeared to harbor a space far more expansive and deeper than its external appearance suggested, with the corridor seemingly stretching endlessly into the darkness.
Frem was crouched by the door, intently examining sothing, while Lune pressed his hand against specific spots on the tomb’s outer wall. Near where his palm made contact, faint rune-like symbols began to glow in the air, flashing montarily.
Helena and Banster stood nearby, either silently praying or remaining alert for any signs of danger.
Duncan, intrigued by the scene before him, couldn’t resist asking, “What are you doing?”
.
Lune, still busy with the runes, casually explained, “In ancient tis, this ‘Naless King’s Tomb’ had an erratic history. It would randomly summon individuals from all over the world, leading to many disastrous incidents. It was only through the collective effort of the Four Divine Churches that a lock was placed on this autonomously operating ancient ‘anomaly,'” he continued, his attention on the hidden runes, “These agreents, witnessed by the four gods, imposed regulations on the otherwise chaotic ‘summoning’ behavior of Vision 004, leading to the establishnt of today’s swift bell and assembly system…”
Duncan raised an eyebrow, “Sounds like a sort of containnt strategy?”
“It’s more of a limited ‘utilization’,” Lune corrected, shaking his head, “An anomaly like this can’t truly be contained. But by understanding its patterns, we can reduce its harm and even utilize it to our benefit—Today’s Vision 004 continues to operate non-stop, just as it always did. The difference is that we’ve now found ways to extract information from it without risking our lives…”
“An anomaly cannot be contained…” Duncan pondered Lune’s words, his expression turning thoughtful and slightly perplexed.
As these thoughts swirled in his mind, Duncan considered the situation of the Vanished. In a strict sense, the current state of the Vanished was one of containnt, and he, “Captain Duncan,” was a key factor in maintaining this state. This scenario, though unique, seed to align well with the concept of “Eternal Zero” often associated with anomalies and visions.
Shaking his head, Duncan montarily brushed aside these tangential thoughts. His attention refocused just in ti to hear Frem break the ensuing silence with a grave tone, “It seems there’s no problem.”
“Yes, everything appears to be in order,” Lune concurred, finishing his initial assessnt. The elven elder straightened up, took a few steps back, and gazed up at the towering pyramid tomb with a grave expression, “At least… from the outside.”
Duncan spoke softly, his gaze analytical, “If everything’s normal on the outside, then the issue must lie within.” He then advanced towards the tomb’s main entrance, peering into the seemingly unending darkness of the corridor. “What’s the next step?”
Frem approached, drawing Duncan’s curious eyes. The silent, towering orc Pope gently tapped his staff on the ground thrice.
In the next instant, a blurry shadow split from Frem’s side, quickly materializing into another figure resembling Frem. “This is my historical avatar from an hour ago,” Frem casually explained to Duncan. As he finished speaking, this “historical avatar” bravely stepped forward, crossing the threshold of Vision 004 under the watchful eyes of everyone present.
As the tall figure ventured deeper into the dim corridor, Vanna joined Duncan’s side, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and tension. They observed as the avatar progressed, only to see it abruptly halt at a certain point.
“Why did it stop?” Duncan asked, turning to Frem with a puzzled look.
Frem’s brow furrowed in response, indicating that even he, the summoner, was unsure why his historical avatar had suddenly ceased moving. He peered intently into the depths of the corridor, his hand tracing runes in the air, seemingly attempting to reconnect with his avatar. But just then, a wave of unease washed over him!
Simultaneously, the historical avatar, stationary in the corridor’s depths, began to quiver slightly as if it were slowly turning its head back towards them.
Frem, standing just outside the entrance to Vision 004, suddenly altered his expression, lifting his papal staff with urgency. He issued a stark warning while beginning to dispel the summoning, “Be careful, contamination!”
In the following mont, Frem decisively severed the summoning link and commanded the avatar’s disintegration. Yet, the top of his staff emitted only a brief, dim light, and the tall figure in the corridor did not vanish as expected. Instead, after a brief tremor, it continued its slow, ominous turn of the head—
As the tall, pale figure’s head turned, it revealed a face contorted into a horrifying, twisted smile that seed to tear through the shadows. In the dim light, this grotesque grin spread like the mirth of a dented spirit, and suddenly, a cacophony of murmurs, whispers, and strange howls filled the ears of everyone present, chilling them to the bone.
The scene was unnervingly macabre, sending shivers down the spines of all who witnessed it. Banster and the others imdiately sprang into action, their bodies tensing in readiness to combat this sinister contamination. They knew the stakes were high: even though the entity that had ventured into the tomb was rely a historical avatar of the Fla Bearers’ Pope, the force that could so swiftly and thoroughly corrupt it had to be of a profoundly malevolent and supernatural nature.
Yet, just as the situation seed to reach a fever pitch, a tall figure unexpectedly stepped forward, positioning himself at the entrance and obstructing the view of the slowly rotating “historical avatar.”
It was Duncan. Around him, layers of illusory flas flickered and crackled, casting an eerie light. A barrier of green fire sprung up, almost entirely sealing the doorway. There he stood, amidst the dancing flas, his gaze fixed on the distant figure now thoroughly tainted by so unknown, corrupting power.
“Why didn’t you continue turning?” Duncan’s voice cut through the tension, his tone steady yet carrying an undercurrent of challenge and curiosity towards the twisted entity before him.
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