It was a brilliant "light blast".

The "arc of light", which is equivalent to about a quarter of the sun's rune ring, disintegrated in the sky, and then turned into a dozen large luminous structures, and for a short period of time after the initial disintegration, they were still climbing and moving towards the sky according to the normal trajectory of Anomaly 001, as if each luminous structure still had residual power and navigation functions, but after only a few moments, their movement showed obvious signs of loss of control.

The luminous structures began to fall apart, large and small bodies of light like fleets scattered in a storm, striping bright lines in the sky that were fading away, and between the larger luminaries there were many smaller light sources that were as inconspicuous as fireflies compared to the large fragments, and fell from the sky with flickering and a series of tiny explosions.

Raining down from the clouds, from the eastern frontier to the western archipelago, the light burst illuminated the night, casting the entire sea with an intense and eerie golden glow.

The massive debris fell relatively slowly, falling in their respective trajectories towards the world as they continued to spill glowing debris, with most of the falling debris falling in the southwest sea, and a few smaller debris falling to the central and northern regions.

It was now eighteen hours after nightfall, and the Infinite Sea had been briefly illuminated by another great disintegration of the sun, and due to the low height of the falling objects, only a quarter of the rune arc was enough to illuminate the sky, so the "meteor shower", which represented the approaching end of the world, brought a "day" that lasted for nearly an hour—and in this short day, the whole world fell silent.

Duncan stood at the window on the second floor of the antique shop, and he opened the narrow window at the end of the hallway, letting all the wind and sound into the house—there was silence in the neighborhood, and the sound of cars and people seemed to have completely disappeared from the city, but in fact, there were many people outside.

Men, women, and children stepped out of the houses, or leaned out of the windows, staring at the sliding flashes of light in the sky, and crowds of people gathered in the streets, including even the vigilantes and guardian squads that had been urgently assembled.

Everyone looked like they were being grabbed by the neck, their heads tilted in the same position, all still in the falling sunlight.

The only sounds in heaven and earth were the roar and whistling of the luminaries as they crossed the clouds, and the bells of distant churches.

And then after a while, the sky began to dim—the last luminaries had crossed the highest point among the clouds, and they had briefly stayed in the sky, as if trying to carry out the primordial command to shine the world, but soon lost momentum, and fell into the sea like the other debris, and faded in a brilliant tail flame.

Night fell again, and Plant returned to the night.

The whole world is back in the night.

A whistle sounded, breaking the silence in the neighborhood, and the crowd gathered in the street woke up to the whistle and began to return home in an orderly manner.

Before closing the window, Duncan heard other voices — children asking their parents what was going on, why they couldn't go to school, why they couldn't go out to find friends, some were cursing in whispers, some were sighing, some were crying quietly.

Finally, the sound of horns and church bells in the direction of the docks came from the window, as if a warship had received an order to leave the port.

Frem withdrew his gaze from the window and continued to carve the last symbols on the ceremonial stone slab with great steadyness.

Under the light, the figure of the flame bearer pope is like a stone statue standing in the light and shadow, and his rock-like face does not show the slightest emotional fluctuation, as if all his attention has been poured into the "memorabilia" in his hand.

The brazier in the sanctuary was blazing, and a priest in black robes stood by the brazier and reported the latest situation to the Pope: "...... The patrol fleet located in the southwestern sea has noticed the direction of the fall of several major luminous objects and is sending high-speed ships to search for them......

"There have been no reports of falling objects falling directly near the city-state, and it seems that all the sun fragments have fallen on the sea this time...... There have been no reports of falling objects on ships at sea.

"The Creation of the World has reappeared in the sky...... In the past eighteen hours, three city-states have reported a significant increase in extraordinary erosion events within their cities...... They don't need reinforcements for the time being, but hope that the nearest fleet will move closer to them......

"There has been a ghostly demonic attack in the port of Messala, and it is unclear whether this is a demonic invasion caused by nightfall, or if there are remnants of the Annihilation cultists taking advantage of the chaos......

Listening to the priest's reports, Frem nodded slightly, and then handed over the gray and white slate he had just carved, "I've written it all down—send this to the archives." ”

The black-robed priest bowed down and took the stone slab, and saw that the years and months were written on it with deep inscriptions, as well as a record of the fall of the sun's fragments.

The teachings of the Holy Book could not help but come to his mind—

Even if the end of the world is apocalyptic, it should be carefully recorded until the last moment, and the last breath of civilization should end with the pen of the engraver.

The black-robed priest departed with the tablet of notes, and only the crackling brazier accompanied Frem's tall, silent figure in the sanctuary.

After a while, the Senjin Pope seemed to suddenly sense something, and turned his head to look at the brazier: "Helena, have you recovered?" ”

"It can only be said that the mental state is like a living person, and it is far from being a 'recovery'," Helena's voice trembled in the flames, and it seemed a little distorted when it reached Frem's ears, "but it is obviously unrealistic to lie in bed and recuperate your body now." ”

"I've heard from Rune," said Frem, "it's ...... Amazing development. ”

"Are you referring to the goddess descending on me, or is it the plan of the 'Captain'?"

“…… "Both," Frem said slowly, after a moment's hesitation, "of course, the latter is more shocking. ”

The sound in the brazier was quiet for a few seconds.

"Frem."

"I'm listening."

“…… Are you still recording history? ”

"Still, I've been leaving a record of history as required by the holy scriptures."

"If the world ends and we don't survive, will the tablets you carved be picked up and read by new beings one day in the future?"

“…… If there is a day, it means that the captain's plan has failed, and the gods have failed, and even the age of fire has failed," Frem silently watched the fire dancing in the brazier, "and no one will know about the history anymore, because on that day even the very concept of 'history' has died." ”

“…… But you're still keeping records and guarding the fire-spreading totems. ”

"Because it makes sense to record history, even in the absence of successors, 'history' itself at least proves that we are still civilized until we die—as the mad poet Pupan describes in his last verse:

"The years give me vitality, and I give the years memories."

“…… I didn't expect you to know poetry. ”

"Poetry is part of history."

“…… Is that so? The voice from the brazier paused slightly, and then continued, "Then please help me to record one thing—the next time you pray for the eternal fire, you will engrave it on a stone tablet." ”

Frem immediately took a piece of parchment from the side and took the pen: "Say." ”

“…… On January 21, 1902 in the New City Calendar, the Sea Song was crossing the six-nautical-mile threshold at the end of the Eternal Veil, the vanguard of the civilized world. ”

The Sea Song, January 21, 1902...... Okay, I've got that down. ”

……

The fog seemed to have turned into some strange entity, no longer a flowing, gentle air current, and the steamship struggled forward in the fog that seemed to fill the whole world, every step seemed to be against the heavy wall, entangled, crushed, and bound by an invisible force.

And in this dense fog, which seemed to be some kind of dense mass, the boundaries of the world disappeared imperceptibly—the sea near the side of the ship had somehow become something gray and illusory, the sky above could no longer see tangible clouds, the sky was cloudy and everything was clouded, and only occasionally could the lookout hand see the sea surging in the fog.

Those distant and illusory waters are like mirages.

The white vanguard exploration ship with the flag of the Church of the Deep floated in the mist, and despite the incessant roar of the steam core, the fog itself was in constant flux due to the lack of any references, so that the crew could not be sure if the ship was really still moving forward - or if it had long been imprisoned in place by this eerie "sea".

"We've lost all contact with the Ark of the Church, and we're only faintly sensing the signal from the temporary lighthouse," a Church sailor in a dark blue smock arrived on the bridge and reported to the captain of the Sea Song, "The steam core is running at full power, and we're still on course. ”

"Hmm."

The captain of the Sea Song nodded slightly, she was a lady with a cold face, she looked unsmiling, and after listening to the sailor's report, she turned her gaze to the priest on the side: "Can you hear more clearly in this direction?" ”

The captain was questioned by an old priest in a loose burqa, whose face was furrowed, his eyes sunken, his back stiff, and he looked completely unfit for such an ocean voyage by age and health, but he sat closest to the captain, holding a delicate brass censer in one hand and a talisman carved from sea polyp in the other.

The old priest listened intently, as if listening for some signal beyond human perception, and the people around him fell silent, as if they were afraid of disturbing the old man's mission.

After a long time, the old priest finally raised his head slowly.

He heard the voice, it was the echo of death, he smelled the smell, it was the stench of decay—he felt guidance, it was the soft admonition of the goddess.

"Over here," the old priest said, pointing his hand in a direction in the fog, "here he is." ”

(End of chapter)