Before the Icon

Nina was happy because it had been a long time since she had a proper meal with Uncle Duncan like this, discussing what happened at school, and even longer since she had seen Uncle Duncan smile.

It even reminded her of the past, of when her uncle wasn't sick—ever since she lost her parents at the age of six, this man, who was like a father to her, had become her only family in the world. But starting four years ago, an illness that even doctors couldn't pinpoint the cause of had changed him into someone else. Those times... to be honest, they were hard to get through.

Her uncle was still supporting her schooling and maintaining her most basic living needs, but Nina could feel that all the colors of "the future" had gradually faded from this familiar and friendly little shop, dissipating into the strong liquor, pills, and the sinister, oppressive gatherings of those suspicious "friends" her uncle dealt with.

She no longer hoped for life to return to how it was a few years ago, but even a slight improvement would be worth celebrating.

Duncan was also happy because he had finally gained more intelligence about this world, finally touched upon the historical context of this world—even if it was only a part of it, it gave him the pleasure of seeing through the fog.

The completely lost prehistoric "Order Era," the "Great Annihilation" event that reshaped all things, the Deep Sea Era that continued to this day, and the anomalies and phenomena that spread across the entire world... these things, which he had never known before, or only vaguely understood, now finally had a clearer outline.

Breakfast ended, and Nina got up to clear the dishes. Her movements were quick and nimble, showing that she often did these chores—undoubtedly, she also tidied up the bedroom upstairs.

Someone burdened with a serious illness, living a decadent life, and dedicating most of his energy and passion to cult activities clearly wouldn't do these things.

But as he watched the girl busy herself, Duncan couldn't help himself in the end. He got up and took the large tray from Nina's hands: "Let me carry it for you—you look like you're having trouble going upstairs."

Nina looked at Duncan in surprise. She was about to say something more when the latter strode towards the stairs.

The girl could only quickly follow, reminding him from behind, "Uncle, be careful, the doctor said your condition isn't stable yet..."

"Doctor... Doctor Albert?" Duncan didn't look back, searching for corresponding impressions in his fragmented memories as he went upstairs, but there were only a few fleeting glimpses. "It's fine. Anyway, he still hasn't figured out the cause of the illness, and the most effective medicine he prescribes is just painkillers."

"...But you should still listen to the doctor's advice," Nina followed Duncan up to the second floor, walking towards the kitchen as she mumbled, "At least he knows how to maintain healthy hab—"

Nina's words were cut short by the sudden sound of flapping wings.

She and Duncan looked in the direction of the sound simultaneously and saw a shadow flash through the gap of the slightly ajar master bedroom door.

"Uncle Duncan, something flashed past in your room!" Nina exclaimed, then stepped forward and grabbed the doorknob. "Could it be that cat next door..."

"Hey, don't..."

Duncan only managed to stop her halfway before seeing Nina push open the slightly ajar door. The pigeon hiding in the room then appeared before them.

Ai Yi was standing on top of the cabinet, one claw holding a french fry and stuffing it into its mouth. The suddenly opened door made the entire bird freeze. It remained still in the posture of stuffing a french fry into its mouth, its two beady green eyes staring blankly at Nina and then at the wall.

Then it saw Duncan, flapped its wings twice, and made a loud sound: "Ah... coo?"

Duncan's eye twitched. He saw that the window not far away was wide open. That was clearly Ai Yi's escape route—and in the distance, directly facing the window, a pier could be vaguely seen basking in the sunlight.

This pigeon went to the pier and got some french fries...

"A pigeon?" Nina finally reacted, looking at Ai Yi on the cabinet in surprise. "Uncle Duncan! There's a pigeon in your room!"

"I see it," Duncan said expressionlessly. "I don't know it."

Ai Yi immediately dropped the french fry and flew over with a flutter, landing on Duncan's shoulder and shaking its head.

"Alright, it flew in this morning," Duncan sighed. "It's probably someone's pet pigeon, but it's not very smart. I gave it some food, and it wouldn't leave."

Ai Yi listened and let out loud cooing sounds.

If there hadn't been an outsider present and Duncan hadn't given a command earlier, it would have definitely started loudly saying "Ah, yes, yes, yes" by now.

However, Nina didn't doubt her uncle's words at all. She just looked at the pigeon with shining eyes, then cautiously approached it, observing the pigeon's reaction while asking Duncan, "So... are you going to keep it? Can I raise it?"

The girl's thoughts were all written on her face. In her eyes, Ai Yi was clearly just a beautiful and cute white pigeon. Ai Yi tilted its head, looked at Duncan, and let out questioning coos from its throat.

Duncan suddenly felt that this bird was easier to understand when it wasn't speaking...

A moment later, he pretended to hesitate before nodding: "Yes—but only if this pigeon is willing to stay. It might fly away at any time, so don't complain then."

Nina's face lit up with joy: "That's great! I knew you were actually a reasonable person, Uncle Duncan!"

In the central prayer hall of the Grand Cathedral of the Deep Sea, Valentine, the city-state bishop dressed in a black and gold-trimmed priest's robe, stood solemnly before the statue of the Goddess of Storms.

He was tall and thin, with sparse white hair and eyes as calm as deep water.

The large candelabra in the prayer hall burned quietly, its sacred flames illuminating the room. Gemona's statue was placed high on the altar. This goddess had no face, her head covered by a black veil, and a long dress depicting numerous wave patterns draped from her body to the edge of the platform—even though it was just a stone statue, divine power was still displayed here. The entire statue exuded a strong sense of presence. Anyone standing around it could feel a subtle sense of being watched and protected.

This feeling of being watched and protected was real, and it was under this gaze and protection that Vana, who had come to discuss matters with the bishop, could speak freely about the scenes she had seen in her dreams.

"...If what you saw in your dream is accurate, then it is indeed the Lost Homeland."

Valentine, the city-state bishop, turned around and looked at the young Inquisitor who had come to see him early in the morning. Although, from the perspective of Church hierarchy, the Inquisitor, who was in charge of military affairs, and the city-state bishop, who was in charge of rituals, were of equal rank, it was normal for an Inquisitor to seek advice or even guidance from a bishop when it came to judging supernatural events.

"So it really is the Lost Homeland?" Even though she already had an answer in her heart, Vana couldn't help but widen her eyes upon hearing the bishop's judgment. "I thought..."

"You thought that ship was just a legend now, like all those ghost ship legends those nervous sailors blabber about in taverns?" Valentine knew what Vana was going to say. The old man with sparse white hair shook his head, his tone profound. "The existence of the Lost Homeland is a fact acknowledged by all city-states and the Church. It is not a legend, but something that can be found in the Church's archives."

"I know that. The Lost Homeland did exist. Pland's city-state archives even contain some of the ship's construction blueprints and commencement records from over a century ago, but all this verifiable information is limited to when the Lost Homeland was a ship sailing in the real world, and limited to when Captain Duncan was still human..."

Vana spoke with a serious tone. She looked at the statue behind the bishop, her expression becoming more cautious when mentioning certain words.

"The key is that the ship was clearly recorded as having fallen into subspace... A century ago, thousands of refugees from the Thirteen Islands of Viseran witnessed firsthand as the ship and their homeland were swallowed by the border collapse and plunged into the shadows of subspace. And in the decades that followed, although there were always eyewitness reports of the Lost Homeland reappearing in the real world, there was a lack of concrete evidence, and many scholars doubted the ship's 'return'..."

The young Inquisitor spoke while looking at the old man before him.

"Can something that was swallowed by subspace truly reappear in the real world?"

"...To date, nothing besides the Lost Homeland has returned to reality after falling into subspace. Even for the Lost Homeland, there are only post-incident eyewitness reports, and scholars from various fields doubt its return. This is indeed a fact, but it is not the key..." The old man said, his gaze suddenly falling on Vana, a peculiar seriousness on his face. "The key is, Inquisitor, are you afraid of something?"