Deep Sea Embers

Chapter 747: Sunset

In the city-state of Mok, two steam walkers, hanging the amulet of the Academy of Truth, strolled through the streets. Fully armed truth guardians accompanied on both sides, inspecting the situation on the streets while urging citizens to return home quickly. In the increasingly dim daylight, the shadows of warriors and spider robots were stretched long, wobbling and blending into the shadows between the streets and buildings alongside.

In Cold Port, the last resupply operation had ended. Notices of temporary metro closure echoed through each station as guardians sealed all doors leading to underground facilities, guarding every entrance and exit. At sunset, holy steam and incense would be injected into the pipes until a complete purification of the city-state’s underground was achieved. After that, the metro would reopen, but it would operate strictly according to a new timetable and safety regulations.

After all, the night might last one to two months, and the city-state could not come to a complete halt for such an extended period. During these seventy-two hours of “preparation period” at dusk, the city-state’s administrators and scholars had already devised a new “timetable” and safety system to maintain the city’s basic functions as much as possible during the prolonged night.

This new timetable and safety system had not been tested in practice, nor was there time for more thorough and detailed discussions—each city-state would test the feasibility of its own “nightfall plan” in the long darkness before the sun rose again.

In the distant Lansa, gunshots once disturbed the city’s tranquility, almost piercing through people’s strained nerves. Suntists took the opportunity to stir up the highly tense and uneasy citizens, preaching that the true Black Sun would be reborn during the nightfall. Followers deceived by them set fires in the lower city areas, attempting to seize the church at the edge of the city-state.

The chaos was quickly suppressed. The “clerics” of the Church of the Flame Bearers took control of the situation immediately. However, the tension in the city-state had already escalated…

…

With their long limbs, mechanical spiders walked through the city-state’s mottled and ancient streets. The broadcast device installed on the head of the walking machines emitted a slightly distorted voice, echoing through the alleys:

“Attention all citizens… There are thirty minutes until sunset. Please return home as soon as possible… The new curfew will last twelve hours, followed by the implementation of a temporary city operation timetable…”

“…Steam, electricity, and gas will be supplied as usual. Workers in relevant positions can pass through checkpoints with a permit… Various nightfall shelters will remain open long-term, until sunrise…”

“It is the duty of citizens to assist in monitoring the operation of city infrastructure… If you find a streetlight out or the steam supply is disrupted, please report immediately to the nearest church or security booth…”

“…If you find unnatural shadows in your home, or hear strange noises from underground, seek help from the Truth Guardians on the streets immediately…”

“Please remain calm and relaxed. We are experiencing a special abnormal vision. The city-state has enough strength to protect everyone. Please follow the new timetable and safety regulations to maintain life and keep healthy…”

The broadcast voice gradually faded away, turning into a vague and distorted whisper of wind outside the window of a harbor inn. The gas lamps had been lit, the lonely lights dispelling the malicious darkness, illuminating the empty streets—except for the occasional patrolling guards passing by the intersections, no pedestrians could be seen on the streets anymore.

It was hard to imagine that just a few days ago, this place was bustling with traffic and crowds of people.

Lawrence withdrew his gaze from the window, took a deep breath, and wrote down lines of text in his diary—

“Year xx, month x, day x, we are still docked at the port of Pland, the city-state has already prepared for the coming night, and now the sun is about to disappear over the sea…”

“My crew is not afraid; instead, they feel a kind of fearlessness and excitement. The blessing of the Vanished gives them full confidence, believing they have enough strength to face everything—this is not necessarily a bad thing.”

“Pland is not a very wealthy city-state, but the situation here is still good. Everyone is trying to soothe those around them and figure out how to stock up for the night… Before dinner, the innkeeper said he had secured enough fuel and stocked the warehouse with emergency food and medicine, enough to support an extended curfew…”

“This city-state, close to the southwestern border, seems accustomed to such ‘restlessness.’ No one knows what will happen next. People here avoid discussing the worst possibilities as much as possible, focusing all their energy on the present life. This is a valuable quality, one that allows Pland to withstand greater pressure than those wealthier city-states in the central sea…”

“But I’m worried about other things—the sealed items on the ship, in the city-state.”

“And those still sailing in the distant seas, those ships that tried their best to return but still couldn’t make it to port in time—the sun is about to set, and perhaps many captains and sailors are still out on the Boundless Sea. From the mid-section of the southwest route, it takes at least seven days to reach the nearest city-state, and the situation on remote routes is even worse… In the continuous night, no one knows what changes will occur in this sea…”

A cool breeze blew past his ear, and Lawrence stopped writing, sighing softly.

He lifted his head, looking towards the window facing the port area. Beyond the docks, he could see two large cargo ships appearing on the distant sea surface, slowly approaching the coastline while honking—several small speedboats with the church’s amulet shot out from the dock like arrows, heading towards the two ships requesting to dock, ready to conduct necessary boarding inspections and blessings.

In the corner of the window, a vague figure emerged from the glass surface, waving at Lawrence, who was looking into the distance.

“Two more ships are docking, and they’re big ones,” Lawrence whispered, “All of Pland’s docks are almost full.”

“In the past seventy-two hours, the number of ships that have docked at Pland is four times the usual amount, more than half of which came here for ‘refuge,\'” the vague figure on the window casually said, with a hint of an ethereal tremble in its voice, “They’re considered lucky. Those who couldn’t return in time still don’t know what to do.”

“…Ships on ocean voyages all have small chapels and accompanying priests, but these measures are for dealing with normal nights,” Lawrence sighed, shaking his head, “Twenty-four hours after sunset is the last deadline the Port Authority gives for ships to dock normally. Ships returning after this time are not allowed to approach the city-state directly—they’ve stayed in the darkness too long and are no longer safe.”

“…The White Oak too had received such ‘treatment’,” Martha said, “I remember you told me it was after the first encounter with the Vanished.”

Lawrence shrugged, saying nothing.

Martha fell silent for a while before speaking again: “…If the sun continues to operate this way, people will eventually adapt. The chaos is only temporary, just like those city-states that survived the Dark Ages. They found new ways to continue after the collapse of the ancient kingdom. As long as we survive, life always finds a way.”

Lawrence knew this wasn’t something Martha would say—she was an exceptional female explorer and captain, not a philosopher.

Yet, he still felt a bit of comfort and warmth in her words.

“You’re right, Martha,” he nodded gently, “There’s always a way out…”

In the high sky, the pale World’s Creation was gradually appearing behind the clouds, with the increasingly thin sunlight slowly fading from the sea surface, and a layer of murky fog had appeared nearby, undulating with the sea.

The towering bow of the Vanished cut through the waves, heading into the distance in the evening fog, with the half-transparent spirit sails on its tall masts billowing without wind. The Bright Star followed closely, its semi-solid, semi-ethereal hull undulating in the waves as if it might plunge into another dimension at any moment.

“The latest news came from Wind Harbor, the last civilian cargo ship that could return to port before sunset had already docked—the city-state navy was setting up outposts and navigational markers in the nearby waters and was moving a mobile port equipped with a high-power steam core and church facilities to the sea between the city-state and the glowing object. After that, ships returning to the city-state had to dock at this temporary port and undergo strict inspection and quarantine before being allowed to approach the city-state.”

Duncan stood on the bow deck, listening to Morris relay the situation from Wind Harbor, and nodded slightly: “Lawrence is currently in the city-state of Pland. He said that they have given a twenty-four-hour window for ships returning after nightfall there. After the window ends, returnees must also stay at a temporary dock near the city-state for inspection and quarantine.”

“Each city-state is developing different response plans based on its own situation and experience, but no one knows which plan will be most effective,” Vanna said from the side, “But anyway, getting through the first night should not be a big problem. Most city-states can safely welcome the sunrise with just their stored supplies. What really worries people… is the future.”

Duncan remained silent, just quietly thinking.

After a while, he suddenly asked, “What about the sightings of the ‘Doomsday Survey Group’?”

“Just as you expected. There have also been sporadic sightings reported in other parts of the world,” Vanna nodded, “I confirmed this with Her Majesty Helena, who mentioned that starting several days ago, there have been at least five incidents ‘witnessing phantoms appearing suddenly as if from another dimension’ within the influence of the Storm Church. After comparison and verification, three of them are very likely to be the Doomsday Survey Group performing observation tasks at the end of time.”

Duncan pondered for a moment, nodding lightly.

And in the corner of his eye, the last glimmer of twilight finally faded away from the sea surface.

It had gone dark.