For the "fake Agatha" born from the mirror image, her life was split into two distinct parts:

A part of it was warm, bright, and fulfilling, full of all her love, hatred, and attachment to the world, but in essence it was just a lie she had fabricated and input into her own mind;

The other part was only three days, filled with stress, fatigue, pain, and ultimately a death of relief, but it was the only memory that truly belonged to her.

And now, the deceased has returned to the mortal world, and the counterfeit has the opportunity to continue. The problem before her is - the former is nostalgic, but destined to be unattainable. After a long time, all regrets will eventually turn into resentment; the latter is real but thin, pale and short life is not enough for her to survive as a complete "person".

Captain Duncan gave her a reminder before this destined difficult disagreement, and after long thought, she came to a conclusion: leave Frost.

The dark and cold deep sea was terrifying, and the "diving" process itself made her discover for the first time that there was another possibility for "life", just as the captain described to her in the submersible -

"We are groping forward in the endless darkness. Civilization itself is just a delicate and fragile sampan. The lights illuminate the surroundings of the sampan. We use our mortal wisdom to try to understand the fleeting images that emerge in the darkness and guess what the world looks like...

"Most people can only curl up in the safe corner of the sampan for their entire lives, but there is always someone responsible for holding the light at the bow and looking into the distance. This is a road that is destined to move forward forever, because the 'unknown' is a one-way concept, so... maybe I can give it a try."

Agatha in the mirror spoke calmly. The black dress that represented her identity as a gatekeeper had quietly changed at some point, turning into a set of clothes like those of a sea adventurer - a bit like Martha's outfit, but with some traces of the Church of Death. She raised her hand and took off the hat that symbolized the clergy, letting her long hair fall down, and the bandages wrapped around her body slowly faded away.

She looked up and smiled at Duncan.

“Fakes don’t have a real past, but I can have a real future. Let those precious memories lie quietly in the past, so that at least when I recall them in the future, they will still be bright and warm, and will not be stained by the weakness of human nature.

"Ms. Martha designed this dress for me. What do you think of it?"

Duncan looked at Agatha in the mirror, and after a long while he nodded seriously: "Very suitable."

"Do you think I need to change my name again?" Agatha asked again, "If I plan to embark on a completely new path from now on, shouldn't I make some changes starting with my name?"

Duncan was silent for a long time this time. However, after a long thought, he shook his head and said, "No need. I think it's fine if you still call me Agatha."

"Why?"

"Because I'm used to calling you that. It's inconvenient to change the name," Duncan answered casually. "Anyway, I can tell the difference between 'you' and 'you' can tell each other apart."

Agatha in the mirror looked at Duncan deeply and said, "...This doesn't seem to be your real answer, but it is enough to convince me. I also like this name very much. Let's regard it as the last commemoration of my 'past'."

Duncan nodded: "Well, it's good that you think so."

"Have you arranged everything in the city-state?" Agatha asked again, "Are you really planning to be a 'cemetery keeper' in Frost from now on?"

Duncan raised his eyebrows: "What's wrong with this position?"

"It's not a bad thing... but it's strange to think that Captain Duncan, who is like a shadow in the warp in the eyes of many people, would guard a cemetery in the city-state," Agatha in the mirror said frankly, "But as long as you are happy, this is of course a good thing - I'm afraid there will be no place safer than that cemetery in the future."

"I think it's great. I also run an antique shop in Plande. Maintaining activities in civilized society can help me adjust my mentality," Duncan smiled. "Besides, it costs money to maintain an incarnation in a city-state. Being a guard in a cemetery at least brings in some income..."

Duncan stopped suddenly.

He slowly raised his head, looked at the "gatekeeper" in the mirror, and asked very seriously: "Will the cathedral pay me, the 'new guard'?"

It was only then that Agatha realized: "You still need a salary?!"

“You don’t pay wages?!”

"Ah, of course they are paid under normal circumstances. The salary of the cemetery guard is paid directly by the cathedral..." Agatha said with a strange expression, "But it is not normal for a shadow from the warp to be a guard in the cemetery. I strongly suggest that you go to the cathedral and have a serious talk with the other Agatha about this matter. Because based on my understanding of 'myself', if you don't take the initiative to mention it, she will never think of it - or dare not think of it."

Duncan: “…Is it that outrageous?”

"The string of numbers you wrote at the end of the report letter nearly drove a room full of cryptographers and mathematicians crazy. Later, when transferring money to your bank account, the cathedral even set up a secret action team to monitor the changes in the spirit world. When you deal with ordinary people as a 'subspace shadow', please consider the three views of most normal humans."

Duncan's mouth twitched and he rubbed his forehead: "...Okay, I understand."

Agatha seemed relieved, and then asked curiously: "Now that the situation of Frost has been resolved, what are your plans next?"

"I plan to return to the central sea area. According to the archaeological data provided by Morris, I will go along the route to check out the ancient ruins and strange sea areas that interest me. If possible, I will approach or even enter some areas listed as 'visions' to explore and understand this world as much as possible." Duncan obviously had a plan in mind and immediately talked about his exploration plan with great interest. "In the process, I will continue to maintain contact with the civilized world and see how the major churches react to my 'warning'. If they are interested, I don't mind dealing with those mysterious church arks again..."

"It sounds like an exciting adventure," Agatha said with a tone of joy and anticipation. "It's full of risks, but it's worth it. It looks like my decision is correct... Shall we set off now? Or do we need to make some further preparations?"

"Don't worry, we need to arrange the White Oak first, and we have to tell Tyrian anyway," Duncan laughed. "He should have returned to the dome office by now, so I can go say hello to him."

"I understand. I won't bother you anymore." Agatha lowered her head and her figure gradually disappeared from the mirror.

At the same time, in the dome office of the Frost Government Hall, Tirian had seen off the last department representative - he changed out of the gorgeous but uncomfortable coat he wore for ceremonial occasions, put on his daily clothes again, and sat behind his desk with a slight relief.

Next, he will have a short break - to prepare for the rest of the day's work.

Managing a city is far more difficult than managing a fleet, especially a city that is a mess everywhere. Even on the day of his swearing-in, he had no chance to interrupt his work. This morning's itinerary was "forced" into his normal work schedule, and he had to finish all the delayed matters in the afternoon and evening.

What's more, he has more than just the affairs of the Frost City-State to deal with.

The huge "industry" that the Sea Mist Fleet has run for the past fifty years, the complex and subtle connections between himself and other city-states, the balance of power in the Frigid Sea, and the relationship with his "family"... all of these added together are actually no easier than the work of the Archon.

Tirian sighed deeply, opened a locked drawer beside his desk, and took out many documents and materials from it - files related to the Sea Mist Fleet, shared materials from the Brilliant Star, and private letters from other city-states.

Rest time means that he can temporarily put aside his work as consul and do a bunch of other jobs that are just as difficult as being consul.

Tirian glanced at the pile of things and couldn't help but raise his hand to scratch his hair.

For some reason, the bald head of First Mate Aiden suddenly appeared in his mind.

The terrible association that suddenly emerged in his mind made the new consul feel a chill and he suddenly stopped scratching his hair.

"Aiden shaved that himself back then, Aiden shaved that himself back then... He has regretted it for a century..."

Tirian was muttering something to himself, as if trying to distract himself from the pressure of the pile of things before him, when a slight crackling sound suddenly came from nearby, abruptly interrupting his soliloquy.

After a subconscious shudder in his heart, he quickly calmed down and looked up at the mirror on the nearby wall with a calm expression.

He is used to...

Duncan's figure appeared in the mirror.

"Son, I came to say hello to you - everything is going well?"

"All is well, father." Tirian stood up and carefully met his father's gaze, but his heart was much more relaxed than usual. "What do you want?"

"Nothing, I'm just preparing to leave..."

Duncan stopped abruptly.

Tirian looked at his father in the mirror in confusion, but saw that he was staring at... the table next to him with a particularly strange expression.

There was shock in that expression.

This shock made Tirian's heart tighten. He hurriedly followed his father's gaze, but all he saw was a piece of paper that had fallen out of the pile of documents just now. It was the paper that Lucrecia sent to him from the Brilliant Star.

It is a "shared academic document".

Duncan's extremely serious voice came from the mirror: "Tirion, what is that? Bring it closer for me to see!"

"Ah... OK," Tirian agreed hastily, picking up the paper and walking to the mirror, showing the image on the paper to his father. "What's the problem with this?"

"...Where did this pattern come from?"

"It was sent by Lucretia," Tirian answered immediately, with a nervous and guilty tone. "I didn't tell you before, but she has been studying something that fell from the sky..."

Duncan did not speak, but stared at the paper. After a long time, he broke the silence with a whisper as if he was talking to himself in a dream: "...The moon?"