Eldritch Horror Theatre

The bustle around the Academy was still intensifying.

That Parting Meteor Shower had actually managed to flush out the Academy, the Night Watchers, and the Origin Council all at once.

While Classmate Su Gao examined herself, Fu Qian leaned back comfortably in his seat.

Though it was only a temporary spot, he had chosen it with care.

A slight tilt of his head allowed him to see the star-filled sky through the rift torn open by the Prison Archangel’s final strike.

Compared to his last visit, the weather had cleared up significantly. The temperature, however, continued to drop, making the night as chill as water.

He vaguely recalled that in the descriptions of That Long Night, only stars had remained twinkling in the sky.

Unfortunately, it seemed the refugees aboard The Ark—no matter what hopes they had clung to when entering—never lived to see such a sight again.

Judging by the state of the three layers they had just traversed, it was hard to believe the people inside those shattered Ambers had safely weathered the cataclysm and returned to freedom.

With that level of physical frailty, they would have been utterly defenseless against The Ark once it developed a mind of its own.Not to mention the Descent Plan it had seemingly poured all its efforts into—the success rate appeared abysmally low.

As for where those people had gone?

Fu Qian guessed that at least a portion of them had mutated into the attackers they had encountered.

The fishmen, or perhaps the Feather and Fish.

But unless the unexplored corners—or those unblown Feathers on the Second Layer—held an incredibly high population density, the numbers still clearly didn’t add up.

Whether the missing populace had been turned into food, used as experimental material by the Origin Council, or fed to the experiments themselves, was hard to say.

But there was clearly a high probability they had met a grim end.

Even if the entity who originally sheltered them had started with good intentions.

It had not only built this sanctuary but had also left behind no Emblem or Statue of itself, seemingly striving only to preserve a spark of humanity.

It was a pity. Judging by how The Ark had later gained sentience and run amok completely unchecked, the fate of that entity during the Long Night was likely grim.

”A very unique connection seems to have formed. I can feel the presence of that ship.”

Su Gao suddenly spoke from where she stood, breaking into Fu Qian’s musings on the weight of history to share the results of her self-inspection.

...

So it really was like that?

Was The Ark trying to assimilate everything that entered it?

Su Gao kept her eyes tightly closed as she spoke, a clear sign that the danger had yet to pass.

Her information also provided further confirmation for his earlier theories about the flesh distortions.

Forming a connection with The Ark?

The most intimate form of connection he could think of was the Phylactery the Marr Brothers might have possessed.

Something that would prevent them from truly dying even if their bodies were pulverized, perhaps even allowing them to be reborn from a womb through The Ark’s existence.

Unfortunately, they hadn’t found any traces of those two Demigods during their incursion, only someone suspected to be their worthless younger brother. There was no way to verify the theory.

Of course, even if it were verified, Fu Qian wouldn’t consider such an opportunity for resurrection a good thing, nor would he view it as gaining the recognition of some ancient inheritance.

With so many examples of covenants out there, any transformation that compromised one’s independence required extreme vigilance.

”Need any help?”

Fu Qian asked as these thoughts raced through his mind.

”I can handle it, but it might take a while.”

Su Gao replied instantly, her answer confident and candid.

”Alright. For now, describe the state of that ship.”

Exploring the unknown always carried risks, and even Demigods were no exception.

A true professional didn’t expect to avoid danger entirely; they ensured that every risk taken had meaning.

Right now, for instance, this special connection and sensory link would clearly help them understand this ancient entity better.

Fu Qian was certain Su Gao felt the same way and wouldn’t want to squander the opportunity.

”It’s highly unusual. On one hand, it’s definitely the structure we just explored. But from this perspective, it exists in a strange, folded state. Inside and outside, up and down are completely jumbled; direction has lost its meaning.”

Sure enough, Su Gao responded quickly, doing her best to describe the sensation.

”For example, although opening a passage from the inside led us directly here, we can’t reverse the process to go back in. We would still have to go through the Underground like before.

Aside from its location being impossible to pin down, there’s a unique sense of ambiguity to it—almost like a temporal instability. It feels as though if the anchor and the connection were to loosen even slightly, the ship would vanish into history.”

It was rare for Classmate Su Gao to speak so much all at once.

Rather than simply brushing it off with terms like profound of the profound, she did her best to detail that weirdness, painting a rather vivid picture.

At the very least, Fu Qian could easily visualize the state she meant.

”The Benevolent Curse Institute’s Underground is a docking pier?”

He gave a slight nod a moment later.

”Yes... a pier in the dual sense of space and time.”

Su Gao took only a few seconds to validate his analogy.

...

A pier in the dual sense of space and time... He was a little curious as to how this Miracle had been discovered in the first place.

With Su Gao’s firsthand verification, Fu Qian felt several of his theories gaining further support.

Like why such a thing had been so coincidentally ”buried” in the Underground of the Benevolent Curse Institute.

He had previously speculated on the fundamental nature of Miracles; perhaps they could be described as ”the story of a certain Deity.”

The absolute core requirement was a Deity that had truly existed, but had since perished and lost the ability to actively rein in their own authority.

This fit his earlier theories regarding The Ark’s origins perfectly.

Furthermore, given the weighty historical atmosphere within The Ark, Fu Qian leaned toward the idea that it had already existed and was merely summoned here, rather than being a complex construct built from scratch by a group of people utilizing a Miracle.

That was to say, regarding the specific contents of a Miracle, Fu Qian believed it was ”the Ark created by a certain Deity docks here,” rather than simply ”the Ark created by a certain Deity.”

He hadn’t forgotten his discussion with Professor Ah Kai regarding the definition of a ”miraculous creature.” Such creatures clearly existed in a much more stable state, so what exactly was their connection and distinction from a Miracle?

A single noun versus a subject-verb-object phrase.

This was what Fu Qian considered to be the most likely answer.

A miraculous creature was ”the God’s something,” while a Miracle was ”what the God did.”

The former couldn’t be easily conjured with just a few sacrifices and incantations; like Huo, it required a foundation built upon a Divine Trait.

And The Ark faintly gave off that exact impression.

”Anything else?”

Fu Qian asked, his mind racing.

”Nothing else for now, unless I deepen the connection.”

Su Gao quickly finished her assessment.

”Good work. Let’s see if this helps.”

Shaking his head, Fu Qian activated the Decree of Return.