The narrow wooden staircase creaked softly beneath their feet, each step echoing through the ship's silent heart. Duncan held the lantern before him, its ghostly green glow casting eerie yet reassuring illumination, forming a bubble of clarity in the heavy gloom. Beside him, Alice moved carefully, occasionally glancing down to ensure her head remained securely attached.
The staircase led them deep beneath the waterline, far below the decks of familiar spaces—beneath the quarters, beneath storage compartments, beneath even the ammunition bays and cannon decks. Here, the shadows grew thicker, and the reassuring sounds of the ocean grew distorted and distant.
This part of the ship felt different.
"Captain… this place feels… strange," Alice whispered nervously. She glanced upward once, as if reassured by the distant memory of the deck's relative normalcy. "I can't put my finger on it, but it feels heavier, somehow."
Duncan understood exactly what she meant. The deeper they went, the more the sensation grew—a subtle pressure that gradually tightened around them, growing stronger with every descending step. It was as though reality itself was becoming slightly heavier, slightly darker, and slightly less coherent, distorted by a presence lurking just beyond perception.
"It's the sea," Duncan said softly, eyes narrowed as he examined the murky corridor stretching ahead. "We're deep below the surface now. Here, things get… peculiar."
He held the lantern higher, and its ethereal flame gently expanded its glow, bathing walls and corridors in a spectral emerald hue. As the pale green illumination reached further ahead, Alice gasped softly beside him.
Embedded along the walls were lamps, identical in structure to those found in the upper decks, yet instead of warm yellow flame, they radiated a strange, dim blackness. It wasn't mere darkness, but a kind of anti-light that seemed to absorb and distort the very air around it.
"I see what you mean now," Alice murmured. "Black light… It feels as though it pulls everything in."
"It's not natural," Duncan observed cautiously. "This is the part of the Vanished submerged beneath the waters of the Boundless Sea. Here, different rules apply."
Alice instinctively stepped closer to Duncan's side, eyes wide as she peered into the unnatural gloom. "Should we even be down here?"
"It's my ship," Duncan replied firmly, feeling the subtle pulse of power in the lantern resonating with his own heartbeat. "I must understand it completely, every inch of it—especially the strange and unsettling parts."
They moved slowly forward, the wooden floor beneath them growing subtly damp. Every sound they made felt heavier, each creak magnified. Duncan glanced at his feet, noticing a faint sheen of moisture glistening upon the planks. It reflected the green lantern flame oddly, shimmering like water under moonlight.
"Water… leaking?" Alice asked, noticing the same thing.
"No." Duncan shook his head slowly. "It's not leaking in the usual sense. It's more as if the ship itself is partially… submerged here."
As they progressed further, the corridor grew more distorted. Wood twisted subtly, walls gently curved, angles softened in ways that defied natural geometry. Duncan felt a peculiar sensation, as if walking through a submerged dream. Still, the reassuring glow of his lantern remained constant, keeping the subtle, surreal effects from fully engulfing them.
A faint whispering brushed against Duncan's ears, distant but unmistakably present. He paused, straining his senses, but the whispers faded almost immediately. Beside him, Alice stiffened slightly.
"You heard that too?" she asked softly.
"Yes," Duncan admitted, "but whatever it is, it's deeper still."
They continued onward, and soon, the corridor widened into a larger chamber—an open space that appeared vaguely familiar, resembling a cargo hold but oddly distorted by its partially submerged state. Dark water pooled in shallow puddles upon the warped wooden floor, reflecting distorted images of the green flame and their own ghostly figures.
In the room's center stood a thick wooden pillar, gnarled and ancient, reaching from floor to ceiling. Upon its surface were countless symbols, carved deep into the wood—arcane runes spiraling downward, glistening faintly in the green illumination.
"Captain… what are these markings?" Alice asked, her voice barely audible, as if afraid that speaking louder might awaken something sleeping in the shadows.
Duncan approached the pillar, lifting the lantern. He studied the runes carefully. The carvings were not new—they had been etched long ago, their edges smoothed by age. He reached out, fingertips tracing the patterns. They felt cool, slightly damp, and strangely familiar beneath his touch, as though he should know their meaning, yet it remained elusive.
"Protective wards," Duncan finally murmured, half understanding yet half uncertain of his own intuition. "Or perhaps seals… keeping something contained. This pillar isn't just structural—it's here for a reason."
Alice glanced nervously around. "Do you think something dangerous is sealed here?"
"Perhaps. The deeper we go, the stranger things become," Duncan admitted. "This ship carries more than we know."
A sudden ripple disturbed the still pools of water on the floor, gently lapping against Duncan's boots. He looked down sharply. The puddles moved softly, rhythmically, like a gentle heartbeat resonating from deeper within the ship.
"Captain, the water is moving," Alice whispered, alarmed. "It's not natural."
Duncan raised his lantern, expanding its glow further. As the illumination reached the walls, something shifted slightly in the corner shadows—a faint outline stirred, wavering briefly before vanishing into darkness again.
"Stay close," Duncan said quietly, stepping cautiously forward. "Something's reacting to our presence."
He focused, sending his own awareness through the lantern's flame. The green fire brightened slightly, pushing back against the shadows and revealing more of the chamber clearly.
Along the far wall stood an old, heavily reinforced door—its iron fittings rusted with age, yet solid and forbidding. Beside it hung a thick iron chain and an enormous padlock, etched with similar runes as those upon the pillar.
"Is this… a prison?" Alice asked uneasily.
Duncan considered it for a moment. "Or perhaps something similar. The Vanished might have been used to seal things away—entities or powers dangerous enough that they required such elaborate containment."
He approached the door carefully, the lantern held high, watching closely as its eerie flame interacted with the carved runes. To his surprise, the runes glowed faintly in response, shimmering with gentle silver outlines as they resonated with his power.
He stepped back thoughtfully. "It seems… whatever lies behind this door, it recognizes my presence."
Alice watched nervously, keeping close. "Do you think it's safe to open?"
Duncan shook his head slowly. "Not yet. We still don't fully understand what we're dealing with. This may be one of many such chambers—containment facilities scattered throughout the lower decks. Until we know more, caution is key."
Suddenly, another whisper brushed past his ears, clearer now, urgent yet indistinct—a muffled voice calling softly, desperately.
Duncan spun around sharply, eyes scanning the chamber, yet nothing else stirred. He looked at Alice, who stared back at him, clearly unsettled.
"Let's move carefully," he decided, pulling back slightly. "We've seen enough for tonight."
Alice quickly nodded in agreement, visibly relieved. Together they backed away, retreating slowly toward the stairs. Yet as Duncan turned for a final glance back into the dim chamber, his eyes caught a flicker of movement—this time clearer.
Deep in the corner shadows, faint figures briefly took form, hazy and translucent. They gazed toward him, half-visible, their features distorted, mouths moving soundlessly in desperate, silent pleas.
He froze, feeling a shiver ripple down his spine.
"Captain?" Alice's voice pulled him back sharply. "Is something wrong?"
"No," Duncan replied after a brief pause, shaking off the haunting image. "It's nothing. Let's head back upstairs for now."
They ascended swiftly, the oppressive atmosphere gradually lifting as they returned to the upper decks. Yet Duncan's mind was already working quickly, contemplating the mysteries now emerging from the ship's depths.
The Vanished hid secrets far older and stranger than he had imagined—and those secrets were beginning to awaken.