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Outside, the sun was slowly setting, its light dimming as night approached. Two rings of magical runes, visible only to those who knew to look for them, started to descend toward the horizon. The fading sunlight cast an amber glow over the expansive ocean, a sight that spilled into Duncan’s room through the window.

Sitting at his desk and enjoying the picturesque sunset, Duncan turned his attention to a brass key that lay before him. As the sun’s light mixed with the creeping shadows, the intricate patterns engraved on the key’s handle seemed to come alive, shimmering in the fading light.

After a few moments of quiet contemplation and cautious hesitation, Duncan took a deep breath and reached out to pick up the key. As he touched it, a small green flame, soft as an ember, sparked from his fingertips and began to travel into the key itself.

Initially, Duncan had been hesitant to use what he referred to as the “ethereal flame” to investigate the key. He was worried that the flame’s powerful properties might alter or corrupt the key’s own mystical nature. But now, he felt he had no other options left.

Duncan was desperate to find out the secret that Ray Nora had hidden within this key. Keeping this objective in mind, he carefully controlled the intensity of the ghostly flame so that it wouldn’t damage the delicate artifact. He remained on high alert, ready to snuff out the flame at the first sign of any problem.

As he held the key, the ethereal flame gently wrapped around his fingers and the brass, covering it in a gentle green glow. For Duncan, it felt like he was diving into a chaotic, boundless universe.

His eyes slowly closed as he used the flame as a kind of “second sight” to explore the hidden world within the key.

He was greeted by a vision of a fog so expansive it seemed endless. Swirls of dust and smoke formed and vanished in an ever-changing tableau.

Puzzled, Duncan tried to make sense of the disorienting fog that filled his sight, but it was just a chaotic mess, constantly changing but never revealing anything. This foggy realm was the key’s hidden “truth.” It was similar to what he had experienced when he had previously probed into the mysterious puppet’s coffin, but the situation here was fundamentally different.

After spending some time enveloped in this endless fog, Duncan noticed that the ethereal flame was still diffusing normally, showing no signs of damaging the key. Relieved, he cautiously refocused his attention in one specific direction within the fog.

However, as he did so, he felt an odd sensation pulsing in the palm of his hand that held the key. What could it mean? Was it the key reacting to his investigation?

At first, Duncan thought that the unusual sensation he felt might be coming from the brass key he was physically holding in the real world. But then a startling thought occurred to him: Did he have a physical form within this mysterious fog?

He remembered that during his previous exploration of the puppet’s coffin, he had existed merely as a “field of vision,” lacking physicality. Was the change because the key and the coffin had different magical properties? Or could it be that his own mystical abilities had evolved in a way he didn’t yet understand? These questions flooded Duncan’s mind as he looked down at his palm, intrigued by what he found there.

Held in his grasp was a mysterious, rectangular object with a black shell. It seemed to be made from a strange blend of metal and plastic. The device was small, about half the length of his palm and as wide as two of his fingers. The surface was polished and sleek, suggesting it was man-made. Intricate patterns on the device hinted at an underlying purpose or aesthetic, while one end featured a complex, metallic port organized with meticulous detail.

The object struck Duncan as a sort of data storage unit or control module, perhaps designed to interface with some kind of machinery. It reminded him of a USB drive or external hard drive, but from a different world; the port didn’t match any configurations he was familiar with.

Suddenly, an image flashed through his mind—a memory from Pland, a place he had visited, where historical records had been consumed in a massive fire. He remembered the invading “heirs of the Sun,” each armed with complex, black umbrellas containing intricate mechanical and electronic workings.

Comparing the black rectangle to the umbrella he’d seen in Pland, Duncan noted similarities and differences. Both were highly precise, complex, and sophisticated, seemingly beyond the technology of his current world.

At least, these items didn’t appear to be made by any known civilization from the great cities across the sea.

Duncan recalled that in his world, such objects were termed “Blasphemous Prototypes.” As his friend Dog had once explained, “Throughout the long history of this world, certain eras are ‘sealed off.’ Objects originating from these taboo periods are known as Blasphemous Prototypes. Their mere presence can be hazardous to beings in the real world.”

Could this strange, black-box device be one of these forbidden artifacts, a Blasphemous Prototype?

As he pondered the potential connection between the small device and the brass key he was still holding in his other hand, Duncan’s contemplation was abruptly cut short. A deep, rumbling noise echoed from far away, grabbing his attention.

Startled, Duncan turned toward the sound. In the next moment, a dazzling light burst through the fog that enveloped this mysterious space. It streaked across the obscured sky like a meteor, rapidly morphing into a blazing fireball within the misty expanse!

As it roared past him, the fiery entity descended rapidly, its passage acting like a wind that swept away the surrounding fog. What was revealed in the blaze was nothing short of awe-inspiring—a massive figure propelled by flames. The entity appeared as though three spindle-shaped structures had been fused together, each ending in enormous thrusters that spewed streams of light. The surface of this massive object was in constant upheaval, with periodic explosions tearing its shell apart, ejecting plumes of smoke, and scattering flames in all directions. Debris rained down from the points of explosion, falling onto the fog-covered landscape below like temporary meteors, glowing brilliantly for a moment before extinguishing.

Duncan couldn’t make out the exact size of the ship without anything to compare it to, but its scale was undeniably massive. The silhouette, engulfed in fire and veiled by plumes of smoke, dwarfed any city-state Duncan had ever known. It could have been even larger than several city-states combined. He imagined it traveling across galaxies, streaking by countless stars before making its dramatic entrance into this foggy, illusory realm. Its descent culminated in a ground-quaking explosion that left Duncan utterly captivated.

This gargantuan entity, which Duncan mentally named the “giant ark,” finally broke apart in an explosion so intense that it felt as if the very fabric of spacetime could unravel. The ark split into three pieces, each turning into a fiery comet that streaked through the fog, leaving thick trails of smoke behind.

The distance to where these fragments had fallen was insurmountably vast, well beyond any reasonable reach. Even if Duncan had the ability to teleport thousands of miles, he questioned whether he could reach the ark’s final resting place. After all, this misty environment seemed to be a mere echo of a long-lost moment in history.

Just then, he felt a gentle warmth emanating from his palm. Looking down, he saw the brass key he had been holding. Its handle was etched with an infinity symbol, and it emitted a soft light that moved in intricate patterns, eventually forming the words “New Hope.”

Abruptly, an otherworldly rumble echoed within his consciousness, causing the foggy illusion to dissolve into nothingness. As light and shadow blended and shifted, he found himself back in his own bedroom.

Shaking off the disorienting experience, Duncan refocused his senses. The brass key was still in his hand, but its warm glow and dancing patterns had vanished, leaving behind only the memory of their fleeting existence.

Still, every detail remained etched in his memory, especially the name—New Hope.

With a sense of urgency, Duncan stood up and reached for the notebook on his desk. He wrote down the words “New Hope” and detailed the extraordinary vision he had experienced. Only after capturing every nuance did he allow himself a sigh of relief and sit back down.

In his world, memories and thoughts were usually resilient against corruption, but Duncan knew that caution was indispensable. For in dealing with enigmas such as these, even the smallest oversight could lead to unimagined consequences.

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After transcribing the bewildering events he had just lived through, Duncan sat back, lost in a sea of contemplation. The myriad questions plaguing his mind ranged from the essence of what he had actually witnessed to the tangled cause-and-effect relationships, the inexplicable connection between the strange data device and the brass key, and the ultimate location of the shattered Arkship. However, one thing stood out as undeniable to him: what he had experienced was not merely a figment of his imagination or a mere illusion.

At some point in the distant past, before the formation of city-states and the recorded annals of history as he knew them, a real event had taken place. A gargantuan spaceship, a titan of unknown origin and design, had made a calamitous descent onto this planet. The ark had ruptured in the process, disseminating its fragments far and wide across an unknown landscape.

Inhaling gently, Duncan allowed himself a measured moment to absorb the gravity of his newfound insights. The realization that he might be dealing with an authentic episode from this world’s history—obscure, forgotten, but undeniably real—sent a shiver down his spine.

With deliberate motion, he slipped the brass key into his pocket for safekeeping, its form settling against the fabric as if it were a piece of an unfinished puzzle. Raising his eyes, he turned his gaze toward the window, where he saw Vision 001, a landmark or perhaps an artifact, now almost entirely swallowed by the sprawling expanse of the landscape beyond his room.

“Things just got interesting,” Duncan muttered to himself, his voice tinged with a newfound sense of excitement and curiosity.

What had initially seemed like isolated anomalies in his life—mystical keys, illusory realms, and cosmic arkships—were now beginning to coalesce into a larger, more intricate tapestry. Duncan sensed that he was on the cusp of unraveling something monumental, something that could potentially upend his understanding of reality itself. And in that moment, fueled by a blend of awe, trepidation, and an insatiable desire for answers, Duncan knew that he was irreversibly committed to following this mysterious path, wherever it may lead.