The deafening cacophony that had once engulfed his senses began to dissipate gradually, clearing the fog from his perception and bringing the world before him into vivid detail. This experience felt akin to how once muffled and indistinct sounds suddenly sharpened and beca apparent as if a curtain of fog had been pulled back to reveal the landscape beyond.
In the newfound silence, the voice of Gomona, gentle and comforting like the soft touch of a breeze over a calm lake, pierced the quiet, asking, “Usurper of Fire, what is your view of the world?”
Taking a mont to consider her question, Duncan repeated her words thoughtfully, “The world in my eyes…” His gaze drifted across his surroundings, taking in the sight of Gomona, who stood before him with a serene presence, the massive, lifeless body of the Leviathan Queen lying nearby, and the peaceful pond where a fish montarily captured his attention with its graceful leap. This brief distraction led him down a path of introspection.
Turning his attention back to Gomona, ” Duncan took a mont before offering his insight. “My view of the world often diverges from that of others around . The way I perceive things seems to alter them, and this alteration extends outward, influencing how others see them too. Navigator One describes this phenonon as the power of the observer, but I feel… the truth might be more intricate than that.”
Gomona’s ethereal form seed to brighten with a smile at his response. “It appears Navigator Two’s evaluation was precise,” she observed. “The civilization that stands by you—or, to put it more accurately, ‘they’—have already discovered that ‘answer.'”
Pondering her words, Duncan mused, “…If we consider ‘information’ to be the fundantal layer of existence, is it possible to preserve everything within the shelter while also ‘completing’ the Great Annihilation?”
“If ‘information’ indeed constitutes the essence of all that exists, and we have the capability to rebuild the world from this basic level, then theoretically, any scenario is imaginable,” Gomona answered, her voice as soft as ever. “The absolute ‘everything.’ Every possible and impossible scenario, every being that has ever existed or will exist in the universe, those that were eradicated, and those that survived the Great Annihilation… as long as ‘information’ can define them, they can be recreated in any form… even allowing for a rebirth after ‘destruction’…”
Gomona then paused, her expression turning thoughtful as if she had reached the limits of her understanding. After a brief mont, she gently shook her head, conceding, “That concept is beyond my understanding.”
After a short reflection, Duncan admitted, “…Truthfully, it seems beyond my comprehension as well, at least as the person I currently am.”
Gomona’s face took on a thoughtful expression, her spectral features montarily becoming less distinct, though the depth of her emotions remained as palpable as any human’s. “You’ve previously ntioned that you possess ‘complete order.’ Could you explain what you an by that in more detail?”
A hush fell over the temple, encouraging a mont of deep introspection. Duncan seized this opportunity to carefully organize his thoughts, sifting through the extensive information at his fingertips. He aid to explain his current level of self-awareness and the unique “state” that characterized his being. After a thoughtful pause, he broke the silence with a carefully considered explanation: “Picture a civilization at the pinnacle of order, capturing a 0.002-second snapshot of the universe at the precise instant it recognized the inevitability of the Great Annihilation. In a bid to conserve a pristine sample of their ti, untouched by the looming disaster, they ‘sliced’ this mont out of the tiline, encapsulating it… This fragnt, this ‘essence,’ now exists within .”
Duncan elaborated, his explanation becoming more lucid, “From what I understand, this minuscule piece of the universe serves as the vital seed needed to birth a new universe… it’s like a ‘start parater,’ a fundantal blueprint from which everything else can erge.”
He paused, wrestling with the complexity of the idea, but Gomona quickly understood and expanded on his point: “A flawless blueprint, embodying ‘self-consistency’ and ‘completeness’!”
A spark of recognition lit up in Duncan’s eyes: “Precisely, that’s exactly it.”
For the first ti, Gomona showed a level of excitent Duncan had not seen in her before. “This is exactly what we’ve been looking for—a pure, undamaged blueprint! Neither our allies nor the civilization that backs us have achieved this, which is why our creations were temporary, like waves in the ocean. But with a complete blueprint…”
Ti seed to move faster, its passage marked by the accelerated trickling of sand in an hourglass. This sound gently pulled Gomona back from her excitent, reminding her of the need to preserve her limited “vitality.”
“With this complete blueprint at our disposal, we have a real chance at constructing a tangible world,” she said, trying to remain calm. “Our previous efforts at ‘creation’ were unsuccessful mainly because we lacked a comprehensive understanding of the cosmic order. If ‘information’ is the foundation of existence, then the universal order is the ‘formula’ that allows all information to integrate flawlessly. We’ve never been able to grasp this formula, but you… you have it…”
“But rely having the formula is just the start,” Duncan added, “As I’ve said before, I need resources— and a lot of them. Just as a single seed cannot grow into a giant tree without soil, a blueprint by itself cannot create a house without bricks and mortar.”
“I believe we do possess the necessary resources,” Gomona confidently claid.
A look of realization dawned on Duncan’s face, signaling a shift in his understanding.
Gomona, with a hint of reluctance, suggested, “Would our sacrifice be enough?” Her voice carried a blend of hope and uncertainty as if she doubted whether their collective offering would et the requirents.
Duncan’s face took on a mixture of emotions, his voice reflecting a complex blend of feelings, “Are you seriously considering that?”
“We hold a substantial amount of ‘information’ from the ancient world. Navigator Two had inford us of this. Its research, initiated by its creators long ago, is still incomplete. Yet, it has made strides towards the edge of understanding,” Gomona explained with a tone of solemnity. “Its findings suggest that the ‘information’ we carry exceeds our capability to wield or control. Its volu surpasses that of the Boundless Sea. Our failure to harness this information ans we are wasting a massive store of ‘basic information.’ A small portion is used in constructing the shelter, but the rest deteriorates with us, unused and diminishing…”
“But your case is different, Usurper of Fire. Your civilization has reached such advanced levels that you might be capable of utilizing this power effectively. You could potentially orchestrate our ‘detonation’ in a way that is efficient. Although we are just remnants of the old world, combining all pieces of the ‘external barrier’ could be enough to support the creation process at least once…”
She paused, the hastening flow of the sands in the hourglass marking a mont of urgency.
After a mont of silence, she continued in a gentler voice, “This is sothing Salmir couldn’t accomplish back then…”
Salmir, known as the Pale Giant King, had the ambitious goal of reconstructing the stars, but his attempt ended in failure as the stars collapsed under prolonged darkness, caught in subspace.
Duncan stayed quiet, his face revealing his reluctance to consider the Leviathan Queen’s “proposal.”
Both emotionally and logically, the idea of “detonating” the Four Gods along with the remnants of other ancient deities as fuel for a “creation blueprint” was daunting. He questioned whether the explosion of information would be sufficient for such a grand plan.
Admitting this felt sowhat crude, yet Duncan couldn’t ignore the thought that the “informational content” these “gods” contained, including Gomona, seed minor compared to the vastness of a complete universe.
These were “minor gods” after all—a ship’s mainfra, a recorder of planetary histories, a marine leviathan in charge of a section of the ocean, and an ancient deity of death and sacrifice. Their collective knowledge and mories from the old world appeared too limited to draft a comprehensive map of the cosmos.
Despite his doubts, Duncan found himself unable to express his reservations aloud. The Leviathan Queen, positioned gracefully at the edge of the water, looked towards him with eyes full of hope. This being, though considered a “minor god” in his eyes, firmly believed that her ultimate sacrifice could significantly contribute to the birth of stars in the erging world.
After a notable period of silence, Duncan gave a subtle nod in acknowledgnt.
Internally, he harbored skepticism, considering this plan to be fraught with uncertainty. He thought it wise to consider other options.
“We’re running short on ti,” Gomona reflected, then quickly added, “Naturally, a more reliable solution would be preferable. But should ti beco too pressing, rember…” she let her words linger, imbuing them with significance, “…we will be here, ready for your decision.”
As the flow of sand in the hourglass increased, the reality of their limited ti together beca unmistakably clear.
“It seems our ti to part is imminent,” the ghostly figure of the girl remarked, as the imnse, pale limbs in the backdrop slowly reached towards the water’s edge. “Bartok had ntioned that the remaining vitality in the hourglass would suffice for our essential dialogue—it appears our window for conversation is nearing its end.”
Duncan glanced at the hourglass, observing the dwindling amount of sand. He recognized the necessity of conserving “vitality” for that critical mont when he must return to provide Gomona with the final “answer.”
“Before we part, is there anything else you’d like to impart?” Duncan asked.
A brief silence ensued until a woman nearby, dressed in a white robe that evoked the semblance of clerical attire, approached to hand him sothing.
Duncan’s interest peaked imdiately—it was a brass key, distinctly crafted for winding a doll!
“What is this?” His curiosity was piqued.
“This is the ‘route’ to all the nodes of the entire external barrier,” Gomona explained softly, “Navigator Two was adamant that it should be entrusted to you during your visit here. In your hands, it will reveal its true nature, and you will naturally understand how to use it.”
The idea that the object would manifest its true purpose in his possession intrigued Duncan as he cautiously accepted the brass key.
The key felt cool and substantial in his hand. Unlike another key he was familiar with, which featured an “infinity” symbol, this one’s handle was embellished with an intricate design, surrounded by a ring through which an arrow was threaded.
“I trust this will be of significant aid,” Gomona offered, her smile conveying hope.
Taking a mont to securely place the key on his person, Duncan confird, “This will undoubtedly be invaluable.”
Gomona’s spectral nod seed to signify the end of their eting: “With that, we have addressed all that was necessary.”
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