Duncan stared for a long time at the enormous scar in the sky that gave off a dim glow, as though trying to pick out familiar details from the chaotic flowing mist of light and confirm the startling conjecture in his mind—
Was the sight beneath the Lost Homeland's hull the World's Creation?
If Subspace lay outside the hull, was the World's Creation also part of Subspace? Or at least somehow connected to it?
But in the end, he could make out no clues, and the conjecture in his mind remained nothing more than a conjecture.
That scar was far too distant. Even with a spyglass, it would have been impossible to see any further details. From the portion currently visible, it only bore the faintest, almost misleading resemblance to the scene outside the Lost Homeland's hull. Rather than saying the two were alike, it was more likely that his nerves had become too taut after exploring the lower deck, making him suspicious of everything he saw.
Duncan stood on the deck, letting the sea breeze blow over him for a long time. As he thought, he gradually calmed himself. He also kept an eye on Goat Head and found that his "first mate" seemed to have calmed down as well, now diligently steering the Lost Homeland.
Yet Duncan still keenly sensed a vague tension permeating the ship—a tension that seemed to have no source, soaking into every part of this "living" ghost ship. The towering masts, crisscrossing sails, coils of rope piled on the deck... these silent things in the darkness seemed to whisper in nervous repression, discussing "that Gate."
This was the first time Duncan had directly sensed the emotional changes of this "ship" through his mind.
It seemed that after returning from below deck, his connection with