The sea gently rocked beneath the Lost Home as Duncan stood in the familiar confines of his cabin, stretching his arms as he adjusted to the peculiar sensation of existing in two places at once. Though it was disorienting, he felt a thrill of satisfaction; his attempt had succeeded, at least partially.
Through his remote vision, he could see the floorboards of the antique shop in Pland from an awkward angle. The other body—the antique shopkeeper named Ron, whose identity he'd borrowed—was sprawled inelegantly on the bedroom floor, limbs splayed awkwardly like a marionette whose strings had been abruptly severed.
"Definitely need more practice," Duncan muttered softly, shaking his head in mild amusement.
Ai, now back in its usual pigeon form, cooed softly from the desk behind him, watching curiously as its master concentrated.
With a steady breath, Duncan refocused, carefully feeling the distant sensations, and began once more to guide the shopkeeper's limbs back into motion. It was like puppeteering through heavy gloves, his commands muffled and delayed, but gradually, with persistent concentration, he managed to get Ron's body to roll over and slowly rise from the floor.
After several painstaking attempts, he managed to get the remote body to sit upright on the edge of the bed. It wobbled precariously, yet somehow remained balanced.
"Better," Duncan said to himself, feeling a strange pride in this modest achievement.
He took another deep breath, strengthening his connection to his distant form. The effort required careful control, but with each attempt, it became marginally easier. Soon, he began to sense Ron's surroundings more clearly—the quiet room, the sunlight filtering through the old curtains, the creaking of wooden floors beneath his weight. Even distant street noises seeped into his awareness, bringing a faint smile to his lips.
This newfound ability was fragile, but it undeniably existed. He was capable of actively controlling two bodies in two vastly distant locations simultaneously—a discovery that opened countless new possibilities.
Yet, despite his excitement, Duncan knew he couldn't remain in this precarious state indefinitely. The Lost Home was his core, and even now, he could sense its subtle pull, the deep and unbreakable bond drawing his spirit back to its true anchor.
But before fully returning, there was something important he still needed to test.
He turned his attention back to Ai, who perched attentively nearby. "Ai, did you manage to bring the items here?"
The pigeon immediately fluttered its wings energetically. It tilted its head upward, then bobbed once. "Express delivery, as promised!"
On the desk behind Ai lay two bottles of liquor and the peculiar sun emblem, exactly as they had been in the Pland antique shop.
Duncan reached out, carefully picking up the emblem, feeling its familiar cool weight in his palm. It had successfully crossed the vast distance—through realms and layers of existence—arriving here, onboard the Lost Home.
His theory had worked perfectly. Ai could carry objects between his two points of existence.
Duncan placed the emblem gently back down and then studied the bottles. His eyes caught sight of the handwritten notes stuck to each, Nina's familiar script standing out starkly: "Drink less."
He chuckled softly, feeling a strange warmth within him. Whoever Ron had once been—a sick man lost in despair and madness—Nina had clearly still cared deeply for him, hoping against hope that he would change his ways. The realization made Duncan feel unexpectedly determined to protect this newfound life he'd stumbled into, for Nina's sake, if not for his own.
He turned back to Ai, nodding in appreciation. "Good job."
Ai puffed up proudly. "Five-star rating appreciated!"
Duncan rolled his eyes slightly, but smiled nonetheless.
He moved slowly back to his chair, settling into the worn wood with a contented sigh. Controlling the distant body in Pland still required significant effort, and he could already feel fatigue tugging at the edges of his consciousness. Yet, despite the exhaustion, he knew he'd made extraordinary progress.
For the first time since awakening aboard the Lost Home, Duncan had established a stable foothold in the civilized world. He had found a base in the city of Pland, access to the ordinary lives of its inhabitants, and a chance to learn more about the peculiar rules governing this strange new reality.
And most importantly, he'd found someone worth protecting.
The sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, painting the endless expanse of the Boundless Sea in hues of gold and crimson. Standing at the helm, Duncan gazed out over the gentle waves, their surface glinting softly beneath the dying daylight.
The day had been long and eventful, and now, as evening approached, he took comfort in the ship's quiet solitude.
Alice, the cursed doll he'd "liberated" from her imprisonment, had spent the day wandering freely around the ship. Duncan could sense her somewhere down below, exploring the various cabins and holds, chatting idly with the goat-headed figurehead, who—surprisingly enough—seemed rather pleased to have someone to converse with.
Duncan himself felt increasingly comfortable aboard this vessel, despite—or perhaps because of—its uncanny nature. Lost Home was no ordinary ship; it was a living entity, one that responded to his very thoughts and desires. The bond between captain and ship grew stronger with each passing day, and Duncan could now effortlessly feel its moods and movements.
"Time to start preparing," he murmured softly to himself.
He had achieved his initial goal, creating a secure outpost in Pland and laying the foundations for a stable identity within its society. But Duncan knew that he couldn't rely on his remote puppetry indefinitely. He needed more thorough preparation to deal with whatever awaited him on land.
In particular, there were two pressing issues to address.
The first was the growing threat of the Sun Cult—those fanatical worshippers of the ancient and terrifying "True Sun." If they indeed sought fragments of their deity hidden within Pland, it would inevitably bring chaos and danger. Duncan had seen firsthand their ruthless brutality and fanaticism, and if their schemes were allowed to proceed unchecked, the entire city could be plunged into disaster.
The second issue was perhaps even more unpredictable—the actions of the Church of the Deep and their "Storm Goddess." If Duncan's previous experiences had taught him anything, it was that the Church was extraordinarily powerful and cautious. They had already sensed his presence, judging by the encounters in the sewers, and he knew they would be watching closely for further disturbances.
Navigating the tangled web between these two forces would require subtlety, preparation, and strength. Duncan's advantage was that he could operate both aboard the Lost Home and within the city itself—but he would need more than remote control to handle whatever conflicts arose.
He reached out to gently touch the ship's wheel, feeling the ancient wood beneath his fingers. "Are you ready for a storm?"
The ship creaked softly in response, an almost reassuring sound.
Behind him, Ai fluttered down from above, landing easily on his shoulder. It tilted its head quizzically. "Captain calling for backup?"
"In a sense," Duncan nodded. "We're preparing for whatever comes next."
The pigeon ruffled its feathers slightly. "One fleet, ready for orders!"
Duncan smiled slightly, appreciating Ai's unshakeable enthusiasm—even if the pigeon often made little sense. He turned his gaze back toward the horizon, feeling a quiet confidence rising within him. No matter how chaotic things became, he was not helpless. He had the Lost Home, Ai, Alice, and even the stubborn goat-head. And now, he had a place among people, a reason to stay anchored.
"Let's start by mapping out our next moves," he murmured to himself. "First, I need to practice controlling Ron's body more naturally and figure out how to make the antique shop sustainable. Then we'll learn everything we can about the Sun Cult's movements and find a way to safeguard Nina from any fallout. And finally…"
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly as his thoughts turned toward the ominous shadows of Pland's underworld.
"Finally, we'll figure out exactly what secrets Pland is hiding—because something tells me the city itself holds keys we haven't even begun to guess at."
He turned, stepping back from the helm and heading toward the captain's cabin, Ai perched comfortably on his shoulder. As night fell over the endless sea, Duncan felt no fear—only anticipation for the challenges to come.
After all, he was no longer a lost soul adrift on endless seas.
Now, he was captain.