Countless Threads

"I don't think you should call my going to Frost Grand Cathedral every Friday to collect my cemetery guard wages a 'Subspace invasion.' That's not very precise..."

Aboard the Lost Homeland, which was sailing through the shallow layers of the Spirit World, Duncan inspected the large wooden crate that Ai had just teleported over from Pland City-State while speaking to Vana in his mind.

"It is precisely because I am being rigorous that I call it that," Vana replied solemnly, making it difficult even for Duncan to tell whether the inquisitor was joking. After a pause, her tone grew even more serious. "And honestly, I've never quite understood why you insist on personally using an avatar to collect that 'salary'—you know, that 'Agatha' in Frost is willing to specifically assign a squad of Guardians to serve you, and Mr. Tyrion has always wanted to arrange better accommodations for your 'avatar' over there, yet you still insist on guarding those cemeteries..."

Duncan stopped what he was doing. In the brief silence, he recalled that cold northern city-state—the place where it always snowed, the cemetery in winter, the quiet streets, the little girl named Annie, and the old caretaker.

"...I rather like that place," Duncan said slowly in his mind. "Doing ordinary things in a place I like is a hobby of mine."

Vana fell silent for a moment, seemingly lost in thought after being touched by his words. Then a brisk set of footsteps came from nearby. Duncan looked up and saw Alice happily walking over from the other end of the deck—she was always so cheerful.

"Captain! Are we almost at Lightwind Harbor? I saw the ship starting to 'surface'..."

The doll suddenly noticed the large crate sitting on the deck.

"What is this?" she asked curiously, leaning closer and