Chapter 1270 — Shadows Beneath the Deep
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 5
At that same moment, within the region where the Antavian had crashed—inside the plane of water that corresponded to the primary material space.
A ceaseless rain covered the Boundless Sea, saturating the space between the two layers of ocean. Above that sea, the inverted ocean hanging in the sky was heaving in crest upon crest of waves, and within those waves one could faintly see water elementals weaving to and fro, endlessly sustaining their cycle of growth, merging, contention, and recombination—while in the depths of the Boundless Sea, vast currents of blue light could be glimpsed spanning the deep waters and connecting to the immense water systems on the far side of that ocean.
This spectacle—impossible to behold in the material world, wholly contrary to the common sense of substance—was the everyday condition of the plane of water. There pure elemental force and the world's magical background intermingled, giving rise to a distinctive "circulation" system; yet for the sirens, themselves elemental beings, this environment stirred no sense of kinship—it was merely a space that resembled their homeland without truly being it, and the vast, boundless sea here was not the sea remembered from their native world.
But sirens are a carefree and frivolous lot, and they adapt to their surroundings with astonishing speed.
A watch post stood firm amid the rolling waves of the Boundless Sea—shaped like a slightly opened shell, its streamlined casing carrying a silvery metallic sheen, its surface decorated with pale blue paintwork that traced the sirens' unique totemic patterns, resembling the limbs of some deep-sea creature. Within the shell's open gap could be seen a luminous energy barrier, and behind it, faintly, dwelling chambers, weapon stations, communications arrays, and suchlike facilities, along with ornamental tentacle carvings and strands of kelp. A dozen or so sirens were bustling about among the post's installations.
At the base of the post were several "anchoring" devices emitting rings of blue light; together they kept this structure—brought here from the material world—stable, so that it would not drift from its place in this world of ocean alone.
At the post's edge, on a crescent-shaped duty platform, two sirens on rotation kept watch over the Boundless Sea. Both had lower bodies shaped like sea serpents, their long tails coiled into a most stable posture, and in their hands they held trident-shaped weapons, the silvery-white points of which shimmered faintly with ripple-like light—a phenomenon produced by the constant "refreshing" of charged particle streams along the blades.
"Yaaawn... I feel like I've been standing in this spot for a century," one siren with sea-blue hair suddenly yawned, her long tail curling beneath her, its tip poking out and swaying to and fro. "This rain is putting me to sleep..."
"Horse shit—you'd be drowsy even without the rain," the siren beside her, with pale purple hair, could not help but slant a glance her way. "You're just lazy. The moment you're off duty, you're instantly wide awake."
"Don't say that, Coroline," the sea-blue-haired siren gave her trident a little shake. "I'm still very serious about it—it's mainly that what we're supposed to watch is just so boring, a few 'currents' and nothing else, not the slightest change..."