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Duncan was visibly stunned. For a few long seconds, which felt like an eternity, he was lost in deep thought, trying to process the earth-shattering revelations Ray Nora had just shared. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost as though he was thinking aloud rather than speaking directly to her. “So, let me get this straight. The Nether Lord willingly sacrificed itself to shape all that lies above the ocean, following a sort of ‘design template’ located in the depths of the sea. Its essence is the core of all existence. And now, due to some mysterious glitch, the fundamental elements that constitute the material world have started to awaken, activating various aspects of this original ‘design.’ Is this the dreadful secret behind what happened to Frost?”

Ray Nora nodded solemnly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “The Nether Lord had the unique power to duplicate and create, evolving everything from its foundational essence. However, it appears that over countless millennia, either the original design began to degrade or there was some malfunction in the core ‘Creator’ mechanism. This triggered a cycle of creating ‘flawed replicas.’ Frost is just the tip of the iceberg; he won’t be the last anomaly we see.”

The severity of Ray Nora’s revelation seemed to shake Duncan to his core, unsettling a man who was normally a pillar of stoicism. He struggled to keep his composure as a wave of dread welled up within him—the unbearable notion that this ancient god could gradually reawaken within every living creature and even inanimate objects around them. From a dark and horrifying angle, this newfound understanding of reality seemed even more menacing than the immediate threat of the Black Sun, which had ominously overshadowed the city-state of Pland following a recent catastrophe.

“All of this profound insight you’ve revealed—did you obtain it during your unsettling encounter with the entity you’ve mentioned?” Duncan said, trying hard to suppress the tempest of confusion and wonder whirling inside his head. For a moment, his eyes shifted towards the enigmatic underwater display at the edge of the room. In those dark, murky depths, a gigantic pillar-like structure stood, as if keeping a silent, eternal watch over their conversation.

Ray Nora paused, her eyes reflecting deep contemplation before she answered. “‘It,’ being a flawed copy of something far grander, doesn’t possess the ability to communicate in the way you or I would understand. However, its very existence has provided me with an invaluable reservoir of insights and knowledge.” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “I understand the skepticism underlying your question. Humans are inherently limited in our ability to comprehend complex truths. Even when we come face-to-face with mind-bending revelations, our cognition may falter, incapable of fully grasping the enormity of the facts before us. Therefore, I won’t claim my interpretations to be the final word on reality. They are just one perspective, rooted in fragmented impressions I’ve managed to glean from what could be the scattered thoughts of an ancient deity.”

Duncan took his time to absorb what Ray Nora had just told him. He seemed to retreat within himself as if diving into a vast ocean of thought, pondering the enigmas she had just presented. After what felt like a long stretch of time, he suddenly turned towards her. “What, or who is ‘Alice’? Is she the instrument you intend to use for your own resurrection?”

Ray Nora’s eyes widened slightly, her brows knitting in genuine confusion. “Alice? Who are you talking about?”

Duncan studied her face intently before pulling his eyes away. “Your forgetfulness regarding the name is puzzling. I had assumed that she emerged from your own consciousness. She is a doll, one that bears an uncanny resemblance to you. After your… ‘execution,’ the people of Frost discovered a sealed container on the Cold Sea. Inside it, Alice was lying dormant. Initially cataloged as Anomaly 099, she is now a member of my crew.”

Ray Nora was quiet for a long moment as if sifting through Duncan’s words. Gradually, a soft, unknowable smile began to appear on her face. “I see, so that’s how it is.”

Duncan immediately seized on her vague statement, his eyes bright with intensified curiosity. “What exactly are you getting at? What does ‘so that’s how it is’ mean?”

Ray Nora sighed softly, her eyes becoming distant. “My dreams are a convoluted tapestry of disparate scenarios. It’s like being lost at sea in a fog so thick you can’t see your hand before your face. I often find myself submerged in a dark, chilling void, almost hypnotized by fragmentary whispers. Sometimes, I can’t tell if I’m a human soul wrestling with reality or some sort of distorted clone of an ancient god stranded in the depths of an unending ocean. Yet, there are brief intervals when my dreamscapes transform. The surroundings coalesce into more tangible forms—like wooden cabins on dry land, filled with the anxious murmurings of faces I don’t recognize. And in those moments, I wonder…”

She paused, her eyes slowly rising to meet Duncan’s. A soft smile graced her lips as if touched by some hidden, ethereal knowledge. “Lately, my dreams have increased in frequency. The once ambiguous whispers have transformed into a collection of odd yet captivating figures. They dance and twirl around me while an ever-watchful presence observes from the fringes of these visions. You seem particularly interested in this doll, Alice, don’t you?”

“In a world such as this, Alice, like me, has very few people she can genuinely trust,” Duncan replied, his eyes unwavering as they met hers. His gaze seemed to pierce through the affable facade she wore. “This turbulent sea has produced a myriad of creations, from shipwrecks lost to the depths to forsaken sailors, but an ‘executed queen’ turned self-aware doll stands alone as a singular anomaly. Your reaction, however, suggests you didn’t know about this?”

Ray Nora looked thoughtful for a moment, her eyes clouding with a complex mix of emotions before a glint of understanding flashed within them. “This doll, she calls herself ‘Alice,’ doesn’t she?”

A crease formed between Duncan’s brows, signaling his confusion. “Yes. Is there an issue with that?”

“What if I told you that the doll isn’t exactly my ‘duplicate’?” Ray Nora posed the question cautiously, her voice laced with sincerity yet tinged with a slight apprehension. “Or to be more precise, she isn’t a perfect replica of me?”

“Explain,” Duncan ordered succinctly.

Ray Nora hesitated, visibly grappling with her thoughts before she spoke. “Perhaps the real question shouldn’t focus on Alice, but rather the instrument of my execution—the guillotine.”

Duncan looked puzzled. “What are you implying?”

“I’m not fond of reliving painful memories,” Ray Nora admitted, her hand subconsciously moving to lightly touch the nape of her neck. “You may not know this, but the guillotine used to execute me was specifically called the ‘Alice Guillotine.\'”

Understanding finally washed over Duncan. He grasped the implication of what ‘the Frost Queen’ was suggesting. But a part of him wished that the veils of ignorance had never been lifted.

“So, you’re hinting that Alice might be a creation of this chaotic sea, not a replica of you but possibly of the guillotine itself?” Duncan began, his voice faltering mid-sentence as he struggled to wrap his mind around the concept. “But that doesn’t add up. She looks exactly like you.”

Ray Nora cut him off, almost as if she had anticipated his confusion. She shook her head slowly, her eyes drifting towards the deep, dark sea at the edge of the room. “This chaotic sea was spawned from an imperfect, anomalous imitation of an ancient deity. Therefore, within its depths, irregular creations should be expected. Imagine if a beheaded queen and a guillotine both descend into the abyss, falling into this ancient being’s ‘sphere of influence,’ especially due to actions I took in the past. It could trigger some extraordinary and unpredictable changes. A melding and reshaping, a blending and completing of forms, all imbued with a dash of the arcane.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, drawing a curtain of solemnity over the room. It was a revelation that expanded the bounds of their understanding, yet in doing so, it unfurled a tapestry of even more intricate mysteries, adding another layer of complexity to their already convoluted reality.

She paused, her eyes thoughtfully resting on the massive tentacle of the ancient god behind the room’s dim light.

“It seems… it can’t distinguish between one form and another,” she said, her voice tinged with wonder.

The room lapsed back into silence, but this time the quiet felt different—more contemplative, charged with a newfound understanding of the complexities they were grappling with.

Finally, Duncan broke the silence with a sigh of resignation. “So, in some mystifying way, the ancient god has formed something akin to a placenta…”

Ray Nora looked visibly surprised before she regained her composure. “An unconventional metaphor, but apt. It certainly aligns with your unique way of expressing things.”

Duncan exhaled deeply. What more could he say? They were in the midst of a sea so mysterious and unfathomable that every aspect of it seemed beyond their comprehension. Using another, perhaps less fitting metaphor—when faced with the choice of saving the mother or the child, the ancient god seemed to have preserved the placenta that connects them.

But there was one thing he understood: the doll’s insistence that her name was “Alice” was not unfounded; she was, in fact, a manifestation of the Alice Guillotine.

Since entering this strange world, Duncan had encountered numerous bewildering phenomena, but this latest revelation was perhaps the most surreal of them all.

Ray Nora, sensing Duncan’s solemn mood, attempted to offer him some solace. “Take comfort in the fact that you have one less thing to worry about. Alice is not a vessel I’ve been using to resurrect myself. In fact, I never had any intention of undergoing some grand ‘resurrection’ to begin with.”

Duncan looked at her, trying to recalibrate his thoughts, pushing aside his disorientation and focusing on the matter at hand. “Then what about the key you mentioned earlier? And the keyhole in Alice’s back? Are they not part of your grand plans?”

Ray Nora maintained her composed demeanor as she answered. “I’m not sure what you mean by ‘keyhole,’ but if you’re talking about a brass wind-up key, then yes, that is the item I entrusted to the city’s governor. Under normal circumstances, it’s the essential artifact required to gain access to this chamber.” She paused briefly before continuing, “However, I neither crafted this key nor was its original holder.”

Duncan looked visibly taken aback, his expression shifting dramatically. “You’re not the first owner of the key? Where did you get it?”

“It was given to me by a friend,” Ray Nora disclosed. “A learned and amiable older man.”

Her revelation dangled in the air, adding another enigmatic layer to an already complex tapestry of mysteries. The room seemed to brim with unanswered questions, each one further complicating their understanding of the esoteric world they found themselves navigating.