As night fell, Morris was called to the captain's room.

Duncan sat behind the chart table with a serious expression. On the table next to him were many messy books - all of which were books brought onto the ship from Pland and Frost, and some were obtained from the Sea Mist Fleet.

After confirming that reading at sea was "harmless", the collection of books on the ship continued to increase.

Morris glanced at the table and found that the books were classified into various categories - there were strange stories from various city-states, authoritative historical materials, and "dangerous reading materials" involving fringe doctrines such as doomsday theories and the Book of Revelation.

The old scholar suddenly felt curious and a little uneasy.

The captain seemed to be looking for some information suddenly, and judging from the books he took out, what he wanted to find might not be that simple - he called me over probably to inquire about this matter.

With his mind slightly alert, Morris quickly recited the name of the God of Wisdom, Lahem, and prayed for the blessing of the mental realm in silent prayer. At the same time, he lowered his head to check the amulet made of colored stones on his wrist, and then sat down opposite the captain: "What do you want from me?"

"...I have some problems and need to ask a knowledgeable person like you for advice," Duncan nodded. Then, as if noticing Morris' nervous expression, he smiled and comforted him, "Don't be so nervous. I'm just asking casually. It may be related to history."

Just a random question? History? A hidden truth that even the owner of the Lost Hometown is unsure of?

Listening to the captain's consolation, Morris hurriedly repeated Rahm's name in his mind dozens of times, brushing the foolish blessing layer by layer, and then raised his head with tense nerves: "I'm ready, you can ask."

Duncan: “…”

Feeling a little helpless, Duncan knew that the old man's nervousness was a normal reaction, so he sighed and said while organizing his words, "In your historical knowledge, have you ever seen a description of such an event? Some huge man-made object fell from the sky, accompanied by large-scale flames and flashes. The falling object may have exploded and split into several smaller parts and fell on the world."

Duncan finished speaking and looked into Morris' eyes seriously.

Morris also met Duncan's gaze in a daze.

"…Is it over?" the old scholar asked hesitantly.

"That's all," Duncan nodded. Of course, there were still many details he hadn't described, but on such a vague historical issue, too many details might affect Morris's judgment, so he chose the simplest description. "If there are records of this in history, there may be some deviations in the description, but the general events should revolve around the core scene of 'a huge object falling in fire'. Do you know of any similar events?"

The captain's sudden question was puzzling, but Morris noticed Duncan's serious attitude and still tried to recall and think about it. After several minutes, he slowly shook his head and said, "I have never seen a similar record."

"Including all official and unofficial histories?" Duncan was not surprised by Morris's answer, but he still asked unwillingly, "This incident may have been transformed into a myth, or even become part of some heresy, because it may have happened in the very distant past."

"I'm very sure," Morris said again, "including all the official history, unofficial history, and heretical doctrines that I have come across, there is no record of an event that matches or is similar to the scene you described - of course, it is not ruled out that there are still some extremely narrowly circulated legends or lost history that record this incident. After all, there are always unknowns beyond our cognition, but..."

Morris paused for a moment before continuing, "If it is really a historical secret that even I don't know, then it will be difficult for you to find the corresponding information from other sources... Perhaps you can try your luck at the library of the Academy of Truth and look for clues in the oldest books in Moko and Breeze Harbor."

Duncan did not speak for a moment, but instead his eyes were calmly lost in thought. After a long while, he nodded gently: "You can write to the scholars you are familiar with to inquire about this matter. If you really need to negotiate with the headquarters of the Academy of Truth, that is also possible."

Hearing the captain's rather serious tone, Morris nodded seriously.

It seems that this matter is really very important.

As an old scholar who has devoted his whole life to studying, his curiosity was aroused, and he couldn't help asking, "Can I ask you something? What is this thing you are talking about?"

Duncan hesitated for a moment, then spoke slowly: "I'm not sure. I also encountered some illusions by chance, but even if I can't be sure of its nature... I also feel that this scene may be closely related to the current appearance of our world and many lost histories."

"I understand." Morris bowed his head deeply, "I will find a way to investigate."

He did not continue to ask for details, nor did he ask what the captain meant by "illusion", because he knew that curiosity and desire to explore must be just right, not less, and certainly not more.

Duncan paused for a moment and then added: "'New Hope', when investigating the information, pay special attention to these words."

"That sounds like a ship?" Morris asked thoughtfully.

Duncan thought about it and nodded with a strange expression: "It is... a ship."

It was indeed a ship, a spaceship whose engine exploded and fell to the earth from the sea of ​​stars.

※※※

In Frost, South Port, in the secret underground facility, the undead engineers are working busy.

The knowledge from half a century ago came in handy once again. The ancient blueprints were taken out from the fleet warehouse, and engineers as old as the blueprints gathered excitedly among a large number of machines, pipes and cables, exchanging knowledge and ideas that sounded like incomprehensible knowledge to ordinary people.

Tirian sat in a corner of the hall, watching his men busying about.

"I never thought that I would be able to use these blueprints again in my lifetime," an undead engineer with a shriveled head, a big hole in his chest, and half of his body driven by steam engines said excitedly, holding the blueprints, "Look at these drainage devices and balance mechanisms. They have made many modern changes to the submersible, but the basic principle is still the same as before: fill with water, sink, drain, float, and use ballast weights at the bottom of the cabin..."

"I understand your excitement," Tirian glanced at his men, "but I must remind you that you are no longer alive."

"That's about the same thing. It doesn't matter if I die," the undead engineer with a shriveled head laughed. His incomplete teeth looked hideous. He raised his hand and knocked hard on the steam engine on one side of his body, causing the gear set that was not running smoothly to click and resume its rotation. Then he raised his head and looked at the diving device surrounded by his comrades not far away. After a long while, he spoke with a hint of emotion, "Ah... It would be great if I could meet its builder. It is well designed and carefully designed... They should really want to put it to use."

Tirian said nothing, but just stared at the submersible in the middle of the hall. After a long while, he sighed softly, "Go and get busy. It can really come in handy this time. Don't make any mistakes."

"Yes, Captain."

After his men left, Tirian breathed a sigh of relief. At this moment, a slight buzzing sound suddenly came from the crystal ball lens beside him, followed by Lucrecia's teasing voice: "You look troubled, brother. It doesn't seem easy to be an archon?"

Tirian turned his head expressionlessly and watched the crystal ball on the table gradually light up, and Lucrecia's figure appeared in the crystal ball.

"I brought this thing from the ship specifically, not to listen to you making fun of your brother here."

"Relax, brother. You are no longer a pirate. Being an archon requires both dignity and friendliness," Lucrecia smiled, as if she didn't care about the dissatisfaction in Tirian's tone. Then she changed her tone and asked curiously, "But I really want to know, is this... really arranged by father?"

"What else?" Tirian sighed. "He did something big here, something you can hardly imagine. Now the whole Frost is under his influence. I should feel lucky that he has really regained his humanity. So although his arrangement is unexpected, it is not bad at least... Whether it is Frost or my Sea Mist Fleet, now there is an explanation."

Lucrecia finally put away her slightly teasing smile. After thinking for a moment, she hesitated and said, "Is father... okay now?"

"Very good. His real body is on the Lost Hometown. He either fishes or feeds pigeons every day. His avatar is in Frost. He takes a walk in the park every morning and comes to my place in the afternoon to supervise the progress of the project. Do you care? Then next time he comes, I will open the crystal ball and you two can chat directly?"

"Ah, then let's not talk about that!" Lucrecia raised her voice almost reflexively, and then quickly restored her ladylike demeanor, "I... I still need to make some preparations. Let's not talk about this. I still have a lot of things to do here..."

"What are you doing over there?" Tirian subconsciously raised his eyebrows when he heard this. "By the way, how is your research going? What is the current situation of the 'fragment' that fell from the sky?"

Lucrecia hesitated for a moment. Originally, she was just looking for an excuse to change the subject, but now she couldn't help but sigh softly.

"There has been no progress. Even Taran Eyre of Breeze Harbor is helpless."