Chapter 650: The Memory of Crystals

Duncan watched intently as flames began to engulf the crystal. The fire swiftly spread, weaving through the crystal's intricate, microscopic three-dimensional lattice. This fiery invasion coincided with a deep plunge into Duncan's consciousness, propelling him on a profound mental journey.

He found himself in a vast, silent expanse radiating an icy, lethal chill. This realm seemed abandoned, a forgotten fragment of eternity, where feelings of isolation and loneliness were instantly communicated through the surrounding flames. Amid this desolation, a beacon of light appeared in his vision—an intense, expansive, cold glow that seemed to pierce through the fabric of the void.

When Duncan opened his eyes, he was greeted by an awe-inspiring scene. He stood on a massive black rock floating in an endless void. Before him, a golden sun blazed majestically, its surface a turbulent sea of flames, with enormous solar flares rising and falling in the silent vacuum of space.

Yet, paradoxically, this sun emitted no warmth. Near it, Duncan felt no heat, a stark contrast to the fiery spectacle it presented. It burned silently, its coldness more akin to a recorded image than a live star.

"Is this the Black Sun? Am I seeing it again?" Duncan wondered aloud. He soon realized, however, that this golden, cold sun differed from the "Black Sun" he had seen in previous visions. It lacked the sinister, tentacle-like structures and the eerie appearance of a dying pale eye. Notably, this sun did not emit any desperate cries for help. It was merely a visual echo of a once-real star.

With this realization, Duncan shifted his focus from the cold sun to the colossal black structure beneath his feet. A man-made titan! Its surface was polished, adorned with deliberate, man-crafted grooves and inscriptions, reflecting a subtle metallic sheen. Protrusions of unknown purpose, possibly made from exotic crystals, adorned the structure at strategic points.

Duncan's gaze extended beyond the edge of the massive rock, into the infinite darkness surrounding the golden sun. He saw more such structures—countless huge, black, man-made monoliths orbiting the golden sun, floating in the void, arranged in an orderly, wall-like formation. A closer look revealed that the side of these structures facing the sun was embedded with meticulously cut crystal surfaces, reflecting sunlight. Beneath these crystals lay intricate mechanical devices, possibly designed to adjust the crystals' orientation, suggesting a purpose—perhaps an energy-harvesting mechanism designed to capture the sun's power?

In awe, Duncan studied this orbital array of "giant rocks" around the sun, noting their arrangement into a vast, loosely structured spherical shell in the void encircling the central star. He noticed faint, distorted lines of light, reminiscent of force fields, connecting each floating device. Beyond this remarkable "spherical shell" structure, in the boundless depths of darkness, more vague shadows loomed, their details obscured by distance and sunlight interference.

What were these mysterious silhouettes? Distant planets? Space habitats? Immense spacecraft? Or perhaps they were the control centers tasked with maintaining and operating this incredible Dyson Sphere?

Duncan struggled to divert his attention from the vast spherical shell array in space, and it took even longer for him to regain his composure upon realizing the true nature of his vision.

The data stored within the crystal, left behind by the descendants of the sun, was not a record of dark, forbidden truths or corrupted knowledge of ancient deities. Instead, it revealed the existence of an ancient Dyson Sphere—a monumental structure both fascinating and foreboding.

Duncan narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. These were indeed dark truths and corrupted knowledge from ages past—relics of the Deep Sea Age, remnants from other universes, valid in alternate mathematical realities. A Dyson Sphere, conceived and sustained by parameters of an alien universe, epitomized the ultimate corruption and contamination.

Emerging from his initial shock, Duncan walked to the edge of the massive black rock beneath him. His thoughts turned to the "New Hope," the spacecraft that had crashed into their world. Had it too become a contamination on this world? What changes had it undergone after its descent?

Standing at the edge of this star energy collector, Duncan looked down. The steep, cliff-like mechanical casing disappeared into the vast, unfathomable darkness below. Here, the usual concepts of "up" and "down" lost their meaning. The gravitational pull from the distant star was the only "down" direction here. Yet, he felt as if he was standing on solid ground, not adrift in the cosmos nor under the sun's gravitational sway.

This dissonance between his rational understanding and sensory perception reminded him that he was experiencing a vision, a fragment of reality captured within what was known as a "Blasphemous Prototype."

What secrets lay deeper within this recorded vision? Were there other revelations yet to be discovered?

Duncan focused on the flames under his control. He guided them deeper into the crystal, allowing his consciousness to delve further into its mysteries.

However, the vision of the resplendent golden sun and the astonishing Dyson Sphere structure abruptly vanished, replaced by an all-consuming darkness that enveloped his vision from every angle.

Contrary to his expectations, Duncan did not witness the downfall of the civilization that built the Dyson Sphere nor a cataclysmic collision of worlds. Instead, he found himself in a post-apocalyptic void, a dark chaos following the extinction of all things.

In this overwhelming darkness, where time seemed to lose its meaning, Duncan began to doubt the presence of any further information within the crystal. But just as skepticism crept into his thoughts, a flicker of light unexpectedly emerged within his vision.

Several beams of light appeared, each carrying faint, indistinct shapes—some massive, others bizarrely formed, and still others twisted and amorphous. The true contours of these ghostly lights eluded his comprehension, but their voices did not. They resonated within his mind:

"...Compatibility severely below expectations, the 'King of Dreams' also failed... We must adjust the plan..."

"Shelters cannot safeguard everyone... Some entities' survival conditions are excessively harsh, making it unfeasible to ensure their preservation while maintaining the safety of others..."

"...We must draft a list, those not included on it..."

"Who will make this decision? By what criteria will the list be established?"

"...First, we need to determine a compatibility threshold, then simulate... LH-01 has formulated a plan, creating a stable anchor to maximize preservation... but still, some must be forsaken..."

A chaotic cacophony followed, suggesting missing parts in the record, which left Duncan with a disorienting headache. But amidst the noise, he discerned clear, distinct messages:

"...Entities on this segment of the list cannot withstand transformation, the costs of their preservation are prohibitively high... they must be abandoned."

"...There is still a 3% redundancy, allowing for further adjustments..."

"...These beings require a specific stellar environment for their existence, their sunlight is lethal to other entities... LH-01's plan cannot accommodate this requirement... Time is running out."

"...We have no choice but to abandon them."

Suddenly, a thunderous, phantom-like sound shattered the voices and engulfing darkness. Duncan felt as though he had reached the deepest layer of the recorded information—no further data emerged. Amidst the booming and ensuing disorientation, his consciousness quickly withdrew from the depths of the crystal.

When he opened his eyes, Duncan found himself back in the familiar surroundings of the cabin, watching the pale golden crystal in his hand rapidly disintegrate into ashes under the glow of a faint green flame.

The information within the crystal had been fully extracted, and with it, the "Blasphemous Prototype," an anomaly not meant to exist in this dimensional reality, lost its stability and disintegrated.

Rubbing his hands together, Duncan watched the last remnants of the crystal's ash dissolve into the air.

He looked up to meet the inquisitive, nervous gaze of Goathead.

"What did you see?" it asked, its voice tinged with apprehension.

"...The process of their abandonment, as recorded in the 'Book of Blasphemy,' has been confirmed once again," Duncan responded firmly.

He didn't hold back, sharing every detail of the information he had witnessed and heard deep within the crystal with Goathead before him.

However, he refrained from discussing the complexities of concepts like the "Dyson Sphere"—such intricacies were too elaborate to explain in a brief conversation.

After he finished recounting his experience, a profound silence filled the captain's room.

Time seemed to stretch indefinitely before Goathead finally spoke again, its voice carrying a note of complexity: "...In the 'Book of Blasphemy,' it is recorded that during the Third Long Night, certain 'clans' were cast into darkness..."

Goathead paused, then suddenly asked, "What do you think of this matter? Do you find the actions of the descendants of the sun... justifiable now?"

"In such matters, discussing right or wrong is meaningless," Duncan shook his head. "The world isn't built on justice. I don't know what state this world was in before the Great Annihilation, before the Deep Sea Age began, how many plans the 'Kings' who tried to build shelters had, how many compromises they made. Critiquing the choices made by predecessors from a position of stability is foolish and short-sighted, especially from our current standpoint... Any form of 'sympathy' is both irrational and unnecessary."

"...You are right," Goathead said softly after a pause.

Duncan said nothing more, simply nodding gently, and then his gaze fell on the small "sun" obtained by Vanna from the giant's hands.