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For ten thousand years, this colossal light source functioned like an eternal force, providing light and warmth and the stable order of daylight. Without Vision 001, there would be no city-state civilization today, and the entire world would be engulfed in a terrifying, never-ending darkness. The mortal beings who lost the protection of the ancient kingdom of Crete might have faded away silently in some bygone time.

Therefore, nobody could’ve imagined that Vision 001 would one day encounter a problem, just as no one thought the vast ocean might eventually evaporate.

However, it now appeared that this “eternal” sun was not truly everlasting.

Initially, the sunrise was delayed by fifteen minutes, followed by an almost undetectable gap in the rune circle. These unsettling pieces of information all pointed to one conclusion: Vision 001 had a finite lifespan! Duncan stood by the window, silently observing the bright daylight illuminating the street while his thoughts swirled like a tempest in his mind.

Of course, he wasn’t the only one who noticed the changes in the sun. There were many intelligent people in the world. Ordinary individuals might not notice the changes overhead, but the authorities and churches of various city-states must have someone monitoring the world’s largest Vision. What would they think? How would they respond? Did anyone know what happened?

Duncan also thought of the zealous sun worshipers, those heretical devotees who venerated the ancient, real sun. They murmured all day about Vision 001 being the evil “false sun” and that the sun would ultimately fall. Did they know that the sun was genuinely experiencing issues? Or, were the changes in Vision 001 somehow connected to these sun worshipers and their sun heirs?

To be honest, Duncan didn’t hold those sun worshipers in high regard. In his eyes, whether they were ordinary heretics or slightly more powerful sun heirs, they were all similar, like combustible materials. However, the fire in the city-state of Pland reminded him that he shouldn’t be complacent. Ordinary Suntists may not be a significant threat, but the Creeping Sun Wheel behind them definitely was. Coupled with the elusive Enders causing chaos and employing strange, unpredictable tactics like historical pollution and reality overlays, who could say nothing would happen?

After much contemplation, Duncan decided to reach out to Vanna when the opportunity arose. As a high-ranking member of the church, she would be well-informed about the church’s activities. He could discuss the matter of the sun with her.

In doing so, he could also demonstrate his friendly attitude and concern for the city-state’s safety.

Of course, he should remember to knock the next time.

As Duncan thought about this, he also monitored the situation at the cathedral, and suddenly, he froze.

He sensed that Tyrian had left the cathedral… heading toward the southern part of the upper city district.

After roughly determining Tyrian’s direction, Duncan’s brow furrowed slightly as he remembered another aspect of his plan.

After some thought, he glanced towards the counter.

Alice was leaning next to Shirley, holding a pencil and diligently writing something on a piece of white paper.

At this moment, radiant sunlight streamed through the antique shop’s glass window, casting its light over the charming displays on the shelves and bathing the interior in a warm glow. The sunlight touched the golden-haired doll’s shoulders, enveloping Alice in a tender, soothing aura. It also graced the counter and the doll’s pencil tip, bestowing the entire scene with an indescribable softness and an enigmatic atmosphere.

If this were a painting, it would be titled Beautiful Doll Writing Quietly in the Warm Afternoon Sunlight.

Duncan found himself captivated by this perfectly orchestrated interplay of light and shadow. Unable to resist, he walked over and peeked, observing Alice diligently copying an unfamiliar letter—no one knew where she began making errors, but now the entire paper was filled with interconnected small circles drawn by her…

“Mr. Duncan, look what I wrote~” Alice gleefully showed the white paper.

Duncan: “…”

After restraining himself for a while, and considering Alice’s innocent, joyful smile and the lingering memory of the picturesque scene, he couldn’t muster the courage to express his doubts directly. Instead, he managed a nod with a straight face, “There’s… progress.”

Although he couldn’t discern what she had written at all.

Alice, on the other hand, was overjoyed. It seemed that a single compliment was all she needed. Then, she curiously peered into Duncan’s eyes, “Do you have any instructions?”

Duncan hesitated for a moment, “How do you know I have something for you to do?”

“Whenever you have something to instruct, you always have this look,” Alice mimicked on her face, attempting to illustrate Duncan’s expression earlier, but her demonstration was indecipherable, “What do you want me to do?”

“Go with Ai to a place, and bring someone here,” Duncan adjusted his expression, gazing at Alice’s lighthearted smile. As he thought about the task at hand, his mood involuntarily lifted, “Guide someone here.”

“Guide… here?” Alice appeared puzzled, “What does ‘guide’ here mean? Do I need to knock them out and tie them up?”

“Where did you learn that?!” Duncan instantly glowered at the doll, “Come with me, and I’ll tell you what to do…”

……

Compared to a century ago, the city had undergone significant transformation.

Electrical lines, modern gas streetlights, broader and smoother streets, taller buildings, and innumerable factories and pipes—the scholars and engineers had harnessed the power to advance civilization, enabling the city-state to evolve at a pace far surpassing the past. This transformation… even astonished Tyrian, who had witnessed many highs and lows.

However, within this city-state, there remained a few elements that faintly echoed the ones from his memories.

Upon disembarking from the carriage, Tyrian expressed his gratitude and bid farewell to the church staff who had accompanied him. Alongside a handful of sailors from the Sea Mist, he strolled through the streets bordering the upper city district of Pland. As he observed the simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar roads and shops on either side, his face couldn’t help but reveal a wistful expression.

“Captain,” an inquisitive sailor inquired of his leader, “What are we searching for here?”

“A shop,” Tyrian casually replied, scanning the street-side buildings that strongly reflected the central city-state’s style, “A doll shop with an elven-style sign.”

“Dolls?” The sailor was taken aback, “You’re into that as well?”

Tyrian silently glanced at his subordinate, “I have my reasons.”

Another sailor nearby interjected, “Captain, why not just eliminate him first… If you don’t trust us, you can take us all out after you’re done shopping and then clean up…”

“…I somewhat regret bringing you guys along.” Tyrian shook his head, helplessly observing the subordinates he had brought.

The sailors laughed over that remark. While jesting, their eyes persistently surveyed the nearby buildings, seeking the shop that matched their captain’s description.

In settings outside of battle, this was how he and his subordinates interacted—few could likely imagine that the legendary “Iron Admiral” would be such a tranquil figure among his subordinates, but Tyrian understood the reason.

These individuals had accompanied him through life and death for half a century—no bond in the world could surpass the loyalty and trust forged over fifty years.

Suddenly, a sailor’s voice interrupted Tyrian’s thoughts from the side.

“Captain, is it that one? The one across the street, the… doll house… it has a unique name.”

Tyrian looked up and instantly spotted the familiar name amidst a cluster of old street-side shops: Rose Doll House.

The sign had been replaced, the door had been altered, and even the exterior decor had been modified, but the shop’s name persisted—nostalgic elves, even when residing in the rapidly evolving human city-state, rarely changed their shop’s name with ease.

Tyrian suddenly felt slightly disoriented as faded memories welled up within his heart. It seemed as though he could glimpse that long, long-ago afternoon when his father departed for the port on business, and he surreptitiously slipped out of the house with his younger sister. Back then, the siblings had roamed the bustling city until they accidentally discovered that shop…

And in a hasty decision, they used the coins they had taken from their father’s money box to make a purchase—his sister reveled in a full day of joy because of that, while he… couldn’t recall whether he had been punished or not.

Regardless, it was one of the scarce, uncomplicated, and heartwarming moments within Tyrian’s century-spanning frigid memories.

“That’s the one,” the formidable pirate murmured, “‘Doll House’ is the elven-style designation for a doll shop.”

With that, he advanced towards the shop that appeared to hold a unique place in his recollections.