As the world verged on its end, causality also began to spiral into disarray. It wasn’t the last Doomsday Preacher who kept his clarity that ca in front of Duncan, instead, in Duncan’s field of vision, "appeared" a Doomsday Preacher who ultimately retained his lucidity.
But for both parties involved, which was the cause and which was the effect seed unimportant.
"What is your na?" Duncan asked the white-robed old man before him, suddenly curious.
Faced with such a simple question, the traveler in the worn white robe furrowed his brows deeply. He thought for a while before shaking his head lightly, "I can’t quite rember, the last ti I used a ’na’ seems to have been a long ti ago... But if you wish, you may call Kreit."
"Kreit?" Duncan frowned, "That’s the na of your people."
"Oh, right, no wonder it’s so familiar," the old man revealed a sudden understanding, a hint of a smile appearing on his face, "That’s good, then please call that. I like this na."
Duncan fell silent for a mont, then nodded lightly, "Alright, Kreit. I have so questions."
"Please ask. I have plenty of ti this ti around."
"The first question, why choose to et with at this ti?" Duncan looked into the other’s eyes, his tone very serious, "What’s the purpose of this ’window of opportunity’?"
"... We’ve actually been looking for a chance to make direct contact with you—here referring to those of us who still retain rationality," Kreit hesitated slightly, almost imperceptibly, in answering this question but soon provided a response, "It’s just that making contact with you is a very difficult matter—in fact, before today we had also tried once, only... we missed that window of opportunity."
"... Missed a window?" Duncan looked puzzled, "What does that an?"
"We arrived too early, Captain," Kreit said calmly.
Duncan was taken aback, and after an extrely brief mont of thought, he suddenly grasped the aning of the other’s words, "You an, those three who appeared on the Holoss..."
"Yes, we ca too early," Kreit gently nodded, repeating the words again, "When we discovered it wasn’t the year 1900, the window had already closed... and that was the biggest ’linear control event’ we had encountered since we set out. From that day on, many things began to spiral out of control, but in terms of the results... it seems everything still did not veer off from its predetermined track. Duncan Ebnomal still embarked on his last voyage—knowing in advance his own ending."
With these brief sentences, a storm of thoughts began to whirl through Duncan’s mind!
The Doomsday Preachers (or rather the Doomsday Survey Team) knew the truth about him, the "Usurping Fla," a foreign soul that had taken over the body of Duncan Ebnomal—this part he had already sensed, but the other part of the truth was completely beyond his expectations—
In the mories of Tyrion and Lucresia, those unexpected "guests" who suddenly appeared on the Holoss, those Doomsday Preachers who had long conversations with Duncan Ebnomal through the night... Were they originally there to find him?
Duncan quickly clarified the ssage in Kreit’s words and began to respond, "So you an, you did not originally intend to make contact with... ’him’?"
"Yes, we revealed his fate to soone fated to die," Kreit slowly nodded, "I know what you want to say, but the fact is, from the mont we appeared on this ship, he seed to already be aware of certain... things. As a great explorer, he had foreseen his destiny, and our arrival rely surprised him for a few seconds, then until the window closed, he just kept asking us about how to navigate in the border seas."
A faint tremble and a creaking sound reached Duncan’s ears, the deep and unsettling noise echoing from the depths of the Holoss cabin, but after a few seconds, these abnormal sounds gradually died down again.
Kreit lifted his head, looking up at the dark ceiling above, until silence returned around them, then he turned his gaze back to Duncan.
"After missing that window of opportunity, our only remaining chance to contact you was today—or rather, only when the stability of the Shelter was nearing its limit, could we ’anti-order’ beings possibly enter your field of vision safely. And precisely because the stability of the Shelter has already dropped to the limit, do we have the opportunity to... demonstrate so things to you, which will help you understand the fate of this world, the ’predestined’ fate thus far."
"Demonstrate so things?" Duncan’s expression beca imdiately serious after hearing these words, "What do you an? What do you want to show ?"
"... Before that, I want to confirm one question with you," Kreit raised his head to look at Duncan, "You have already rejected our creator, haven’t you?"
"Your creator... Are you talking about Pioneer One?" Duncan ca to the realization and nodded, "Yes, he wanted to take over his authority, to take over the world, but I refused."
"... Is that so, that’s good to hear," Kreit mumbled to himself upon hearing Duncan’s response.
Duncan was curious, "... How does that relate to what you want to show ?"
Kreit did not answer directly but started to walk forward, stopping in front of the door leading to Subspace, which was now firmly closed.
"You’ve opened this door, haven’t you?"
"No," Duncan approached, his tone imdiately cautious, "This door leads to Subspace; opening it in reality is not exactly a good idea."
"It’s okay, no need to be tense—I’m not going to open it, nor do I have the ability to," Crit noticed the change in Duncan’s tone and a smile surfaced on his face, "I just brought you here for a look."
"Take a look?" Duncan said, keeping an eye on Crit’s actions while speaking cautiously.
"Subspace will reflect everything... as long as it’s a possibility for this Shelter, its answers are already branded in that endless Sea of Chaos, and we..."
Crit muttered softly and suddenly reached out to pat the doorfra of the door twice.
"...have always been adept at fishing fleeting glimrs from the river of ti in that chaos."
The next second, to Duncan’s sowhat surprised gaze, the door suddenly shattered like an illusion—with a storm of light and shadows that defy human comprehension rushing towards him and then instantly reassembling around him.
He almost reacted, but at the last mont, he controlled the impulse and stood calmly in place.
Because he didn’t feel any threat or hostility, and could even clearly sense that the door still stood right where it had been—Crit’s presence was nearby too, unchanged.
He looked around and found himself standing on a dark, high mountain. The sky above was chaotic and gloomy, enveloping everything; a dim light hid deep within the clouds, and beneath the mountain was a vast plain, where, in the boundless land, one could vaguely discern the remains of sothing like a city, along with dried-up, fractured elevated aqueducts.
Beyond that, there was only the land cracked and parched, a kind of fine "ash" covering everything in sight, filling up those ruins and aqueducts, and whirling up with the wind through the valleys, floating towards the plains like fog.
A bone-chilling cold pervaded the air as if even the ash that was swept up would freeze.
Duncan watched all of this silently and only after a long ti did he speak softly, "What is this?"
"This is the Age of Fire, Captain," Crit’s voice ca from the side—he had appeared there at so point, still wearing the sa tattered white robe, only now it seed even more worn.
After a mont of silence, Duncan asked, "Is this a historical branch?"
"This is the only historical branch under the condition that the Shelter survives," said Crit.
Then, the "Doomsday Preacher" paused as if to organize his thoughts before continuing,
"In the beginning, you reshaped the earth, and all those grand plans that were never realized in the blueprint ca to life; lands that humanity never imagined rose from the sea, City-States beca connected, and resources beca abundant—And then, you cald the seas, bringing even more life to the waters, and the seawater was purified through rivers and mountains, turning into rain and snow that fell upon the land.
"And then, the world began to prosper, there was a ti when this new world’s flourishing even surpassed all the beautiful odes of the Deep Sea Age—Powerful nations rose on the earth, developing day and night, new technologies were discovered, new poetry, literature, and dreams of the future—Steam trains crossing forests and wilderness, huge pipeline facilities connecting factories to the steel jungles of cities..."
"Many stories, many lives, heroes and leaders, knights and philosophers, legendary adventurers, and ordinary people striving in the cities.
"Captain, believe , if I didn’t show you this scene directly but instead showed you those glorious days, even you would feel a flicker of hesitation—even the most strong-willed Governor and Guardian in the world would want to exchange everything for that world, even if it shined only... for a short ti."
Duncan didn’t speak. He stood on the summit, quietly looking down at the land below, parched and fractured, and remained silent for a long ti before breaking it, "Are there any living people at this mont?"
"There are none left, the ash has devoured everything—Do you see that city ruin? The highest church in the city center... The last refugees took their final breath there. Now there’s only a hollow soul wandering in that church, holding a great sword that, at this mont, can’t protect anyone."
Duncan then looked up at the dim light in the sky, "And what is that?"
"A... very small sun, trying to reheat this land when the world began to cool, and it supported for a long ti."
"And my fla?"
"It’s extinguished, Captain," Crit slowly said, "after you burned through everything that could be burned in this world."
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