初次尝了销魂少妇

Chapter 753: Another Plan

Lune and Helena listened in somber silence as Duncan recounted everything to them. He shared insights from the exploratory team’s ventures into the border waters, the discoveries made on the Holy Island, his unsettling encounter with the Nether Lord, and even his audacious scheme to “conquer the world.”

Duncan chose not to keep this last detail a secret. He seemed unconcerned about revealing to the two Popes before him that there existed “another option” for saving the world. Similarly, he didn’t shy away from discussing the grim future foretold by the “future of fire,” nor did he conceal the ultimate demise of everything, as revealed to him by the Ender.

Lune and Helena remained quiet for what seemed like an eternity, even after Duncan had finished sharing all he knew. They didn’t utter a single word for a long time.

After a period of reflective silence, Lune finally let out a gentle sigh, remarking, “Some truths are perhaps better left undiscovered.”

“To those unburdened by knowledge, ignorance is a luxury, but you, unfortunately, do not have that luxury,” Duncan responded calmly. “Given all that you now know, what are your thoughts?”

After pondering for a moment, Helena slowly lifted her head, her gaze firm and said, “Despite the seemingly inevitable end of the world, it doesn’t mean that all other paths are closed to us, does it?”

She paused, locking eyes with Duncan, her deep blue eyes, as vast and mysterious as the ocean, seemed to mirror the distant, churning waves: “You have another plan in mind, don’t you?”

Standing nearby, Vanna’s eyes widened in surprise. As the Pope spoke, she thought she could hear the soft, distant sound of the ocean, though it felt almost like an illusion, a fleeting glimpse from a goddess paying them no mind.

Suddenly, Vanna came to a realization and turned towards Duncan, about to speak, but Duncan raised his hand to stop her, then calmly met the intense gaze of the “Storm Pope”: “Hello.”

The “female Pope” seemed to ignore his greeting, her focus unyielding on Duncan, a storm of emotions swirling in her eyes. She repeated, “You do have another plan, don’t you?”

Her voice carried a slight tremble, echoing as if surrounded by a chorus of indistinct whispers, transforming the atmosphere in the room to one that was moist, chilly, and tinged with the unique, salty scent of the sea breeze.

Shirley and Dog could feel the shift in the air, an unease settling over them as the atmosphere in the room changed.

Duncan, unfazed by the tension, exhaled softly and responded with calm certainty, “…Create a new one.”

The “female Pope” merely frowned slightly, offering no verbal response.

“The Boundless Sea sanctuary is beyond repair. Any attempts to patch it up are futile; they merely delay the inevitable struggle for survival. Initiating the age of fire is another way to survive, but it’s a path of no return. Choosing this means sealing the fate of our entire civilization in a tomb…”

Duncan’s words were deliberate, his gaze fixed on the “female Pope” as he spoke, then he made a decisive cutting motion with his hand.

“If the effort to prolong the existence of our old world is destined to fail or proves to be unreliable, then we are left with only one option… Not to extend the life of the old world, but to forge a new one.”

The “female Pope” blinked, breaking her silence as the soft sound of waves seemed to rise around them. Her voice, trembling as if resonating directly with everyone’s soul, asked, “Another sanctuary?”

“Another world,” Duncan clarified calmly.

He paused, allowing a moment of silence to envelop the room, during which the crackling of the nearby fireplace became the most prominent sound.

“A sanctuary is a confined, limited system, where disaster safety nets are minimal, resources can only circulate within, and vital life-support systems are singular—there’s only one sun, only one Boundless Sea, and even the number of city-states was capped at its inception. All these elements are confined under the same unchanging sky…”

“This system’s inherent fragility becomes apparent in the face of a cataclysmic disaster. It’s like a building on the verge of collapse, with those inside unable to mend the entire structure, mere spectators to the gradual downfall of their sanctuary. No matter how long the sanctuary has stood or how many years the civilization within has flourished, their fate is already sealed.”

“The limit of any civilization’s development within the sanctuary is defined by that ‘shell’—the unchanging sky.”

Under the intense scrutiny of the “female Pope,” Duncan spread his arms wide, his expression gravely serious: “Hence, we require a world, a ‘world’ far larger than any sanctuary, capable of embracing endless possibilities, allowing civilization to evolve beyond its current confines. Ideally, even when faced with the apocalypse once more, this world would possess the capacity to preserve more seeds of life, rather than plunging into oblivion as the last light of the sun fades away…”

The “female Pope” observed Duncan intently, and after a brief pause, she softly asked, “We understand the concept, but how can it actually be implemented? After the cataclysmic destruction, managing to sustain a sanctuary like the Boundless Sea amidst the fiery remnants of chaos is already a feat of near impossibility. Beyond our sanctuary, the concept of order has been shattered, and we have waited endlessly without ever glimpsing a sliver of hope for the chaos to subside… This Boundless Sea represents the last vestige of order, and beyond its confines, there is nothing left from which to construct a new refuge.”

As she spoke, the ambient sounds of waves subtly mixed with distant, unsettling noises. Helena’s eyes gradually took on a chaotic gleam, hinting at an internal turmoil. Something seemed to stir within her as delicate, deep purple scales reminiscent of some aquatic creature quietly surfaced on the skin of her cheeks.

Yet, she maintained her composure, sitting upright on the sofa, her gaze fixed on Duncan, awaiting his response.

Morris, Lucretia, and the others remained silent, fully aware that this was not the moment for interjections.

Duncan then addressed the core issue, “So, it boils down to ‘order,’ the foundational ‘order’ necessary for the sustenance of the entire world—the sanctuary’s finite existence is also a consequence of deficiencies in this order.”

Looking into the “female Pope’s” insightful eyes, Duncan seemed to connect with a distant realm beyond them, and then he exhaled softly, “…This aligns with my thoughts exactly.”

He gestured towards himself, affirming, “I carry that order, the complete ‘order.\'”

The room lapsed into silence.

In that moment, Duncan felt a warm touch on his hand. Turning, he saw Nina clutching his palm, her expression tinged with concern.

Duncan offered her a reassuring smile, gently stroking her hair, “Don’t worry.”

Nina inhaled deeply, nodding with conviction—yet, from her perspective, Duncan’s comforting smile began to blur and dissolve into a myriad of stars.

That smile transitioned into a celestial spectacle as grand and luminous as the Milky Way itself. A figure constructed from starlight gradually rose to dominate everyone’s field of vision. This cosmic entity, composed of ancient stars, nebulae, and regions of star formation, seemed to envelop everything in sight. Despite standing within the confines of the living room, it appeared vast enough to encompass the entire universe, bearing the weight of all creation.

The figure then leaned towards “Helena,” with the celestial illusion around it pulsing and quivering as if on the verge of a massive expansion, ready to unleash and transform into devouring starlight.

“The order of the entire universe—intact and uncorrupted, unaffected by the Great Annihilation,” Duncan declared, his voice resonating through the stellar expanse, “It exists briefly in a moment, yet from the standpoint of data, it is whole and complete.”

As Duncan immersed himself in the sensation of his own existence amidst the grandeur of the cosmos, he experienced what felt like a galactic-scale “breathing” for the very first time—a profound realization of his own cosmic essence expanding and contracting. Yet, almost immediately, he curbed the urge to indulge further in this cosmic respiration.

He was acutely aware that his transformation had been accelerating ever since he left the Holy Island. Initially, Duncan’s only glimpses of his altered self came from the fleeting, inadvertent looks from others. After encountering the Pale Giant King and uncovering a fragment of the truth, he began to observe the shimmer of starlight on his own reflection in mirrors. More recently, he had noticed his transformations directly in his “bachelor apartment,” and now… he recognized the necessity of exerting control to maintain his human facade.

Time was running out for the sanctuary and for Duncan himself.

Looking into the “female Pope’s” eyes, Duncan perceived the vision of a distant entity—a creature long perished, lying coiled atop a grey-white stone within a palace-like nest, surrounded by numerous deceased “offspring.”

This ancient being lifted its head, its myriad eyes locking onto Duncan’s gaze.

Through Helena, the creature’s voice reached him: “…So beautiful…”

Addressing the current predicaments, Duncan, striving to rein in his celestial manifestation, stated, “Now we face two issues.” He forced the cosmic brilliance to recede, reverting to his “Duncan” persona. “First, ‘data’ alone is insufficient for constructing a new world; I require physical materials, and a vast quantity at that… Yet, I’m unsure of how to undertake this task. I only have a broad, intuitive sense that what I need cannot be found within this Boundless Sea—it’s simply too limited, not nearly adequate.”

“Second, it remains unclear to me how to safeguard everything within this sanctuary while ushering in a new world. In the moment of the new world’s inception, its dazzling emergence might cause everything here to dissipate like smoke.”