The deep sea truly was worthy of fear.
Alice was only a doll—but her expressive eyes, along with subtle yet undeniably human facial expressions, clearly revealed her deep-seated terror of the ocean's depths. It wasn't merely an irrational phobia; it hinted at something genuinely dreadful beneath these waves. Thinking back to his own experiences—especially that eerie journey into the "Spirit World" and the border anomalies he'd witnessed—Duncan felt certain: something monstrous lurked beneath this endless ocean.
Yet here he was, aboard the Forsaken, sailing precisely through those dark and endless waters. And the mechanical steamship he'd briefly encountered was navigating the same treacherous seas.
This raised deeper, more unsettling questions in his mind. What about the lands beyond this vast ocean? Did normal land even exist in this world?
Unfortunately, Alice couldn't answer those questions. Most of her memories had been obscured, presumably by whatever powerful seals had kept her trapped in that ornate coffin.
Duncan still vividly remembered the interior of that steamship as the Forsaken brushed past it in the Spirit World: its cabins filled with occult symbols, religious markings, and complicated seals identical to those engraved upon Alice's coffin. Clearly, civilization greatly feared this so-called "cursed doll."
Duncan cast a meaningful glance at Alice, who returned his gaze calmly.
"So, just to clarify once more," Duncan began, "you don't remember anything about where you came from, nor anything about your past?"
"Nothing at all," Alice replied earnestly. "From my earliest memories, I've been locked inside this box. For some reason, everyone around me was extremely anxious—always afraid that I might escape. They sealed the box in various creative ways. Honestly, now that I think about it, your earlier efforts—the nails, I mean—were quite gentle. Of course, you did add eight cannonballs afterward, but at least you didn't pour molten lead inside, right?"
This time, Duncan chose to ignore Alice's irreverent remarks, continuing calmly, "Then, how did you get your name? Who gave it to you? If you never left the box or spoke to others, why would you even have a name? Did you perhaps name yourself?"
Alice froze instantly.
She seemed genuinely bewildered, her silence stretching long enough to make Duncan wonder if dolls could actually suffer from system freezes. Just as he considered interrupting her, she finally stirred again, sounding genuinely lost.
"I…I don't remember. From the very beginning, I knew my name was Alice, but…I'm sure I didn't name myself. I just…always knew…"
She murmured in confusion, slowly placing both hands on her head as if about to wrench it off. Alarmed, Duncan quickly intervened, "Stop! If you don't remember, that's fine—just don't pull your head off again."
Alice stopped abruptly. "…Oh."
In the ensuing conversation, Duncan continued to probe Alice with a series of questions, though with frustratingly limited results. Just as she had described, the majority of her conscious existence had been spent in a state somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, offering her little understanding of the outside world. Her sparse knowledge came entirely from snippets of overheard conversations, none of which gave Duncan a clear picture of this world.
Nevertheless, the conversation wasn't completely fruitless.
Through their dialogue, Duncan pieced together a few valuable insights:
Firstly, the dominant structure of civilization here seemed to be "city-states," a term Alice mentioned frequently. Her intended destination—the city-state of Pland—appeared to be a bustling, strategically important port city.
Secondly, Alice herself was officially designated as "Anomaly 099." The name "Alice," it seemed, was unknown beyond herself—and now Duncan.
Lastly, the transportation of "anomalies" like Alice from one city-state to another appeared routine. Alice recalled occasional mentions of "other containment chambers" and similar terms, indicating that regularly moving such anomalies might itself be a form of containment.
It was clear that the crew transporting Alice had met with extraordinarily bad luck this time, thanks to the sudden appearance of the Forsaken. Now, "Anomaly 099" had officially escaped containment.
But despite being labeled as dangerous, Duncan found it hard to view Alice as a genuine threat, especially seeing her sitting demurely atop her ornate coffin.
Truth be told, he was a bit disappointed.
Initially, he'd hoped Alice would be his link to understanding this bizarre world. Instead, it turned out that she was just as clueless as he was. But glancing once more at the elegant doll across the table, his disappointment softened.
At the very least, he now had someone aboard who could hold a conversation—someone who wasn't an annoying wooden goat head. Sure, she was an occasionally irreverent doll whose head frequently popped off, but was anything on this ship genuinely "normal"?
For that matter, wasn't he himself—the feared Captain Duncan—the most abnormal presence aboard the Forsaken?
Relaxing somewhat, Duncan leaned back casually and posed a lighter question, almost conversationally, "Tell me, what would you do if I threw you off the ship again?"
Alice blinked innocently. "Would you fill the coffin with cannonballs again?"
"No."
"Nail the lid shut again?"
"…No."
"Pour molten lead inside?"
"No—" Duncan cleared his throat, slightly exasperated. "I mean, if I simply refused to let you stay…"
"Then I'd just paddle my way back," Alice stated plainly, folding her hands neatly on her lap. "I'd rather not be swallowed by the ocean. Your ship is at least a place to stand."
Duncan stared, momentarily dumbstruck by her blunt honesty. Eventually, he remarked, "You could at least pretend to hesitate."
"You already knew the answer, didn't you?" Alice smiled serenely. "Though, if it happens again, I'll probably try hiding in the lower decks. The last few times I wasn't exactly subtle—I didn't think things through clearly since I'd only recently awakened—but now, I've learned—"
Duncan cut her off firmly, "I have complete awareness of my entire ship. I can feel every wave against its hull. Hiding is pointless."
Alice stopped abruptly, mouth still slightly open in mid-sentence. "Oh…"
Duncan continued calmly, "Besides, I could always destroy you outright. It would be a permanent solution to prevent you from troubling me and my ship again."
Alice seemed genuinely startled by the suggestion, eyes widening involuntarily. A sharp clicking sound echoed through the room.
Her head fell off once more.
The headless doll scrambled to catch her falling head, frantically attempting to reattach it. Watching this spectacle, Duncan could no longer maintain his intimidating presence. He let out a resigned sigh, waiting patiently until Alice had reattached her head properly before speaking again:
"However, I suddenly think having another crewmember aboard might not be such a bad idea. If you promise to behave yourself on this ship, I could arrange a proper position for you."
"You could have said that earlier!" Alice cried indignantly. "I nearly lost my head—again!"
Duncan couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from twitching in amusement. "Speaking of which…what exactly is wrong with your neck, anyway?"
Alice looked utterly baffled. "How should I know? It's not as if I get out of my box very often—I have no idea why this keeps happening!"
Duncan observed her thoughtfully for a moment before responding with a perfectly straight face, "Maybe lying down for so long has affected your cervical vertebrae."
Alice stared at him silently, her mouth slightly agape, unsure whether to laugh or sigh.
Watching her puzzled expression, Duncan's mood suddenly lifted considerably.
"Alright then," he said lightly, rising to his feet. "It's settled—we've got ourselves a new crewmember. Follow me. I'll show you to your quarters."