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Their proximity to such an imposing, seemingly military ship presented grave dangers, particularly for their unassuming patrol vessel. They were at risk of being engulfed in the turbulent after-current produced by the larger ship, ominously known as the “Warrior”. In such treacherous conditions, even a slight disturbance or the faintest contact could spell disaster for their vessel.

Responding to the command, the ship’s steam engine sprung to life with a thunderous roar. The helmsman was thrust into the toughest test of his maritime career as he grappled with the steering wheel, striving to navigate the patrol ship safely away from the threatening colossus. Despite his long years of sailing and command, he found himself straining every sinew of his ability, teetering on the brink of catastrophe as the ship heaved perilously to and fro.

“We’re on a collision course! Impact is imminent!” a terrified voice from one of the crew members sliced through the frenetic atmosphere.

Moved by instinct, the sailors scrambled to grab hold of the nearest railings and handholds, bracing for a brutal impact that could potentially send them flying overboard. However, just as their patrol vessel’s side grazed the stern of the Warrior, the mammoth ship dissolved into nothingness.

The Warrior had dematerialized, evaporating into thin air right before their dumbfounded gaze.

Much like the abrupt termination of a nightmarish dream, the formidable warship that had been casting a daunting shadow across the heavens vanished in an instant. What lingered was an eerie collection of memories and a lingering sense of dread that gnawed at their consciousness. The crew members on the bridge and deck exchanged bewildered glances, each looking as though they were stirring from a profoundly disquieting dream, their spatial awareness disoriented.

As the heavy fog began to lift, revealing the austere light of the World’s Creation glistening on the sea’s surface, the brisk ocean breeze nudged many back to the stark reality. The vast, Boundless Sea lay before them, disturbed only by the rhythmic undulation of waves and distant, twirling fragments of ice.

The patrol ship’s commander slowly loosened his white-knuckled grip on the railing, made his way to the window, and scrutinized the horizon with a critical eye. A junior officer sidled up to him, his voice barely a whisper as if musing to himself, “Was that just a collective hallucination? Did we really encounter a phantom ship?”

“No, it wasn’t an illusion,” the commander responded, his voice low yet imbued with certainty. He raised a hand, pointing towards a visibly damaged guardrail visible through the porthole. “See that? The guardrail bears the marks of a collision. We did indeed make contact.”

“But where did it vanish to? The prior ‘Seagull’ didn’t behave in such a manner… Even when it was utterly destroyed, the ‘Seagull’ didn’t just ‘evaporate into thin air.’ Moreover, the ocean currents surrounding us shifted abruptly. The helmsman even grappled with controlling our course…”

The commander allowed silence to fill the air for a brief moment. Following a lengthy period of introspection, he finally spoke. “Perhaps… we inadvertently ventured into some kind of spatial anomaly. It wasn’t the phantom ship that materialized and dematerialized so rapidly, but rather, it was us.”

Shock and dread swiftly spread across the subordinate’s countenance. He instinctively cast his gaze out into the vast sea and towards the direction of Frost, inquiring, “So… have we returned to our own reality now?”

“Establish communication with the ‘Sea Mist’ and Frost,” the commander promptly ordered after a momentary pause, “Compare their responses to ascertain our current position. Until we can conclusively determine our status, evade any ship that emerges in the nearby waters.”

“Understood, Sir!”

…

“They encountered a warship that was believed to have sunk four decades ago? And said warship subsequently vanished just as they were on the verge of colliding?” Inside the captain’s cabin of the ‘Sea Mist,’ Tyrian reclined in his chair, a look of surprise flashing across his face after hearing the report from his first officer, Aiden, “And they continue to roam aimlessly in the patrol area because they’re uncertain if they’ve returned to the real world?”

“Yes, the patrol ship’s commander seems to have deduced from the myriad of anomalies surrounding the ‘Warrior’ that they momentarily stepped into what he’s calling an ‘anomalous sea.’ Now they’re attempting to reach out to both the Mist Fleet and Frost, striving to discern whether their current environment is real,” Aiden affirmed, shrugging slightly, “I believe they might be overreacting due to fear.”

“No, their caution is absolutely warranted,” Tyrian disagreed, shaking his head with a stern expression, “We may harbor reservations about the current Frost Navy, but we must acknowledge their half-century-long service in safeguarding the city-state. Their experience in confronting supernatural phenomena is just as comprehensive as ours. The commander’s interpretation is likely accurate.”

Upon hearing the captain’s remarks, Aiden’s countenance turned grave. “So… they genuinely did momentarily stumble into an… ‘anomalous sea’ that intersects with our world? And they encountered the ‘Warrior’ there?”

“The ‘Warrior’… I remember that ship well. The queen herself graced its launch,” Tyrian mused, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his voice, “Do you recall the circumstances under which it met its watery end?”

“Yes, I recall that quite well. We were the ones who orchestrated its demise,” First Mate Aiden confirmed, nodding as the memory came into sharp focus, “After it was commandeered by the rebels and refitted, it was dispatched with the mission to eliminate our ‘renegade fleet.’ However, in our first face-off, it was sent to its watery grave off the shores of Frost, courtesy of your strategic ambush. A relentless onslaught of heavy artillery breached the ammunition depot and fuel storage. The mighty ship was virtually cleaved in half.”

“Indeed, it was split apart, but the ‘Warrior’ that the patrol ship reported was an intact entity,” Tyrian countered, “This indicates that it was a spectral replica, akin to the Seagull.”

“Frost has been persistently investigating the origins of these ‘doppelgänger’ ships that appear to ‘materialize out of thin air’…” Aiden mused aloud, “Could it be… a concealed dimension overlapping with ours?”

“Frost will soon be informed of this recent development, and their sharper minds will explore this possibility. As for us, there’s no need to meddle in their affairs. We have our own responsibilities to uphold.”

“Do you intend to convey this information to the old captain?”

“Indeed, he’s been eagerly anticipating my updates,” Tyrian confirmed, motioning towards the door, “You should leave first, ensure the door is securely closed, and prevent any interruptions.”

“Understood, Captain.”

…

“Tyrian has reported a new development.” Within a temporary dwelling on Oak Street in Frost, Duncan relayed the information to Morris and Vanna, who were seated across from him.

Beside him, Nina was deeply engrossed in a historical tome, while Shirley, who had been accompanying him until late, was already on the brink of sleep.

“A new development?” Morris quickly straightened up, “Did an incident occur at sea?”

“A Frost patrol vessel encountered a naval warship that had sunk forty years ago in the southwestern sea. It’s suspected to be a ‘doppelgänger,’ much like the ‘Seagull.’ However, there was no hostile engagement between them. Following a minor collision, the ‘doppelgänger’ warship vanished right before the patrol crew’s eyes. Presently, it’s uncertain whether a new doppelgänger has spontaneously surfaced in the sea or if the patrol ship briefly transitioned into an abnormal ocean parallel to our world. The latter hypothesis appears more plausible.”

“An abnormal sea parallel to our world…” Morris echoed, his expression gradually becoming solemn as he looked up, “This seems to corroborate the findings from your investigation tonight.”

“Indeed, another Frost reflected in the mirror. If all these doppelgängers and the cultists’ lairs are concealed within this mirrored domain, that would explain why we haven’t been able to identify the origin of the contamination, despite scouring the entire city,” Duncan articulated slowly, “Let’s not forget the young man ‘Crow,’ who vanished and reappeared as if from thin air. The unusually large population of clones within the city-state with untraceable origins, several unexplained disappearances… it’s all starting to form a coherent picture.”

Both Morris and Vanna exchanged glances, their expressions mirrored in their mutual gravitas about the escalating situation.

“…Ordinary heretics and demons, I can contend with. Even when confronted with a formidable adversary, amassing a greater number of troops and intensifying our firepower has always been a reliable strategy. However, when it comes to an enemy lurking within a mirror…” Vanna’s brow creased, a tinge of vexation revealing itself on her face, “I find myself grappling with the problem… I can’t even begin to fathom how those heretics accomplished this.”

“If this realm is indeed under the dominion of the Nether Lord, then its sway is palpably not restricted to spreading from the abyssal depths to the surface. It appears to be proliferating at an alarming rate. This is no longer a ‘minor disturbance’ akin to creating a few copies,” Morris appended his analysis.

Both “experts” appeared to be wrestling with the convoluted nature of the predicament. Observing their struggle, Duncan couldn’t resist a chuckle, “In fact, I’ve already hurled a proverbial spark into the mirror.”

Morris and Vanna responded in unison: “…What?”