When the submersible's lights swept around, the shapes floating in the dark seawater all entered Duncan's vision—people, countless people, floating in the water.

However, as Duncan observed more closely, he noticed the strangeness of these human figures. They had no facial features, not even clearly defined hands and feet, and no clothes—they were just "shapes" roughly resembling human outlines, with a rough texture and a dark black color on the surface. They looked like crude clay figurines made from black mud using clumsy techniques.

Duncan told Agatha the details he had seen.

"Only outlines?" Agatha's tone was hesitant and doubtful.

"But in my eyes... they radiate a spiritual glow like the living people in the city-state..." Duncan didn't speak, only frowned slightly, cautiously controlling the submersible to approach a "humanoid figure" floating not far outside the porthole. The current stirred up by the submersible disturbed the tranquility of the deep sea, and the black humanoid object slowly rolled at an angle in the water. Its smooth, spherical "head" turned towards the porthole first, followed by short, bald arm structures that looked unfinished.

The mechanical arm slowly extended forward, and the hook at the end latched onto the humanoid's torso, cautiously nudging it.

It didn't react at all, showing no signs of being "alive."

"You all died out here!"

"The seabed?" Agatha exclaimed in astonishment.

"What did you see... is this the seabed?" Countless humanoid objects floated around this "Deep-Sea Floating Island," like bees surrounding a hive. And that scene, like amber, was sealed in the floating ice of the deep sea, as if time had been paused, completely solidifying something extremely ancient.

The contents recorded in that "Book of Blasphemy" were slowly being confirmed. How many were there here?

Thousands? Tens of thousands? Or even millions? The primitive island floating in the deep sea, the "template," the hook hooking onto the vague humanoid "roughcast"... If the Annihilation Cult's claim that the "Abyssal Lord created the world" is true... aren't all living beings in the mortal world "creations" of the Abyssal Lord? Outside the porthole, a "figure" with a smooth outline slowly turned its head towards Agatha.

"I" had prepared myself mentally when I decided to undertake this deep dive. My gaze swept across the instruments on the control panel, but the noise from the hull and machinery compartment wasn't the only terrifying sound. Another sound was even more bone-chilling—a continuous impact coming from outside the hull: humanoid objects like rough black mud were constantly bumping against the submersible's outer shell, the dull thud of stone against a skull sounding particularly horrifying.

"It can still hold," I said in a deep voice.

"I should be arriving soon." I could feel the submersible moving forward as a whole, the vertical angle reaching a point where it was difficult to stand steady without holding onto the handrail.

Even Agatha couldn't help but grip the handrail tightly. Agatha said with a hint of doubt, "Floating in the water?"

"From the beginning, there were no fakes, or rather... we are all fakes..." Agatha opened her mouth, but couldn't say anything.

"No... We were so close to reaching that floating island in the sea..." Civilization was able to continue after the Eighth Dark Night, and the Deep-Sea Era began as a result. Everything in the Deep-Sea Era is built upon the Crawling King's "One Thousand Seven Hundred Cities" blueprint. But could there be other possibilities? Agatha's voice sounded beside me, "What exactly is this...?"

"I remember you said earlier that in your eyes, those 'roughcast' humanoid objects radiate a spiritual glow like living people." Some devices deep in the machinery compartment emitted a dying roar and whine, the hull creaking under an unbearable load. Accompanied by the sound of water being injected, the submersible began to descend further.

Even Agatha, who had experienced Duncan's mirror crisis, re-solidified her faith in the great test, and hesitated in her beliefs, found it difficult to accept this "possibility" that challenged her worldview too much. Suddenly, a memory floated into her mind. Agatha remembered a detail she had heard when she discussed the Deep-Sea Submersible Project with Tirian—Submersible No. 8 floated upwards crazily during its last deep-sea mission, and the explorer, driven mad, shouted one sentence wildly after returning to the sunlight. Agatha frowned slightly, her expression solemn as she looked at the countless human figures floating in the cold frost outside the porthole—was this the scene the explorer saw after being driven mad?

Agatha silently watched the scene outside the porthole, looking at the undulating surface that suddenly appeared in the dark deep sea, its winding and jagged "coastline" and the hazy structures that could not be clearly seen. After a long time, she shook her head gently: "Not the seabed. We are far from touching the so-called 'seabed'—this is a land floating in the water." But it was still constantly diving, continuing to plunge into that darkest place on the narrow edge of collapse and balance.

In the deep sea, anything is possible.

"...I've reached the limit," I said.

"The submersible's outer shell can't hold on."

"...Another Duncan Island," Agatha replied softly.

"Although I can only see a small section of the coastline, I'm very familiar with the terrain. This is Duncan Island—the original form of Duncan Island, without city-states, without ports, without any buildings."

"That is a possibility," Agatha shook her head gently and said in a deep voice.

"The heretical theories of the Annihilation Cult recorded the Abyssal Lord's creation process. Of course, this belongs to heresy, but it is undeniable that the ancient books in our hands may also reveal part of the truth of history." At almost the same time, Agatha seemed to have thought of something. Her gaze passed over the floating human figures, looked at the unknown deep sea below, and then reached for the control lever.

But she didn't blindly accept everything she saw in this huge contradiction and hesitation. Agatha didn't touch the control lever again.

During the Eighth Dark Night, the "Crawling King" bestowed the blueprint to the cluster and began the work of Genesis. In order to avoid repeating the mistakes of the King of Dreams and the Pale Giant King, He divided the blueprint, so that there would no longer be countries in the mortal world, and that the countries would be transformed into one thousand seven hundred cities... Agatha's gaze swept across the various instruments on the control panel, and she felt the powerful information that the Fire of the Spirit Body conveyed to herself. The hand pulling the diving control lever did not relax.

Duncan raised his head again, looked through the porthole, and looked at the humanoid objects floating quietly in the distance, watching them extend continuously in the light and eventually disappear into the darkness of the deep sea.

Then, she suddenly "saw" something appearing outside the porthole.

"Arriving soon?" Agatha was stunned.

"Do you know what's down there?" Agatha's body visibly shook slightly.

"Are we going to... continue to approach?" She turned her head and said to Agatha in as calm a tone as possible. Agatha did not answer, but continued to cautiously control the submersible to dive downward, while subtly adjusting the angle of the thrusters—the hull, which was nearing its limit, emitted creepy noises almost every second. Even the edges where the porthole and the hull were connected began to make terrible creaking sounds, as if the delicate balance would be broken in the next second, and the entire submersible would be turned into a wrinkled metal ball under the heavy pressure of the sea.

"...The original blueprint," Agatha said softly. Agatha turned her head in confusion.

"Some kind of semi-finished product?" Agatha suddenly thought.

"These fakes were 'manufactured' based on this kind of 'roughcast'?"

"Bang,"

"Bang,"

"Bang" A continuous, undulating, and seemingly endless chaotic outline appeared at the edge of the searchlight beam, far away from the lower edge of the porthole.

My perception spread throughout the submersible. This looked... just like a land surface. Agatha listened to the terrifying noises coming from all around and couldn't help but look at Agatha: "Captain, can this thing still hold on?" Agatha, on the other hand, raised her head and looked at the seawater surrounding and below this "Duncan Island."

"I thought of it too," Agatha nodded heavily.

"But it's not the same—even if those fakes exhibit various inhuman characteristics, they at least have detailed structures such as five sense organs, hands, and feet, and they will also try to imitate humans and wear the clothes they have. But the 'humanoid objects' here only have the most basic outlines. If you have to say it... they are more like more luxurious 'roughcasts' than fakes."

"It doesn't matter, it's just that the submersible can't hold on," Agatha shook her head gently and cast her gaze towards the porthole.

"There is something here that can hold on." Agatha listened thoughtfully. For some reason, she suddenly recalled a sentence that the cultist said when confronting her before—Agatha's mind was surging with thoughts and she fell into silence for a while. Agatha, who was next to her, did not react. After realizing the meaning of "the original blueprint," she opened her mouth in disbelief: "Do you mean..."

"A certain semi-finished product?" Agatha suddenly thought,

"These fakes are 'manufactured' based on this kind of 'roughcast'?"

Agatha, who was next to her, suddenly broke the silence. Her tone was serious: "That reminds me of... those 'fakes' that invaded the city-state before."

A vast and endless chaos outline appeared at the edge of the searchlight and the lower edge of the porthole.