At the wide navigation table aboard the Forsaken, Captain Duncan sat facing the cursed doll named Alice.
The atmosphere between the two could hardly be described as comfortable.
Alice—who claimed to be merely a doll—appeared visibly nervous. Despite the ghostly captain's assurance of temporary safety, Duncan's naturally intimidating aura did little to calm her down. While she sat elegantly atop her coffin lid, the slight trembling of her fingers, anxiously clutching the hem of her dress, betrayed her inner unease.
Across the table, Duncan silently scrutinized the peculiar young "lady."
She was undoubtedly a supernatural entity, an animated doll capable of speech, movement, and even warmth despite clearly not being flesh and blood. Back in his own world, such a being would have immediately become the focus of endless documentaries—an easy candidate for a prime-time investigation special.
Though Duncan remained uncertain of exactly how beings like Alice were perceived in this strange new world, he'd gleaned some information from his conversations with the ever-chatty wooden goat head. Supernatural phenomena clearly existed here, yet something told him this talking doll was particularly unique, even by the uncanny standards of the Boundless Sea.
His suspicion wasn't unfounded. The ship he had encountered earlier—the one he'd nearly collided with—had been a modern, steam-powered vessel crewed by disciplined sailors. Even in moments of sheer panic, those sailors had maintained their posts. Duncan had glimpsed intricate chambers filled with artifacts marked by strange symbols, strikingly similar to the engravings that adorned Alice's coffin. It was clear: that ship's primary mission had likely been transporting—or perhaps containing—this very doll.
Adjusting himself in his seat, Duncan's gaze softened ever so slightly as he observed Alice more closely. It seemed he had inadvertently picked up a rather important passenger—yet, for all her supposed danger, she didn't seem particularly threatening. After all, she'd been so frightened upon meeting him that her head literally fell off.
"Excuse me…" Unable to withstand Duncan's prolonged silence, Alice spoke hesitantly. "Is there anything else…?"
"Where are you from?" Duncan asked plainly, finally breaking his silence.
Alice blinked, appearing puzzled by the question. After a moment of thought, she lightly tapped the ornate wooden coffin beneath her. "From here."
Duncan's expression stiffened momentarily. "…I know you were in that box," he clarified with a slight cough. "But what I meant was—where are you originally from? Do you have a homeland, or at least somewhere you departed from?"
Alice considered carefully before shaking her head, completely earnest. "I don't remember clearly."
"You don't remember?"
"How could a doll have a homeland?" Alice folded her hands neatly in her lap and answered earnestly, "Most of my memories involve lying in this box, being transported from one place to another. Occasionally, I sensed people walking or guarding outside my box. Ah, sometimes I overheard low voices—people speaking nervously, fearfully…"
"Speaking about what?" Duncan raised an eyebrow. "What did you hear?"
"Oh, just trivial things."
"I'm still curious," Duncan insisted seriously. Even trivial gossip could help him better understand this world—he desperately needed information, even scraps.
Alice tilted her head thoughtfully. "Well… the most common phrase was 'Anomaly 099.' They seemed to use it to refer to me and my coffin. I never liked it—I do have a proper name, after all. Apart from that, there were mentions of curses, seals, containment... but my memory is foggy. Honestly, I mostly slept inside my box, so I didn't always pay close attention."
Alice paused, suddenly remembering something. "Wait—recently I heard a name frequently mentioned outside my coffin. That was before I arrived on your ship. They spoke about a place called Pland, or Pland City-State. It seemed to be their destination, and maybe mine too?"
"Pland City-State…" Duncan quietly repeated, storing the name away in his mind.
This small bit of information was something new, a potential clue—even if he had no immediate use for it.
"And that's it?" he asked carefully.
"Beyond that, yes, I mostly just slept, Captain." Alice nodded seriously. "After all, when you're locked inside a coffin with constant, unsettling whispers creeping into your ears, what else can you do but sleep? It's not as if there's enough room for sit-ups."
Duncan's lips twitched slightly.
This elegant doll had a refined appearance, like some perfect porcelain princess, but beneath her dainty façade was someone capable of paddling furiously across the sea using a coffin lid, and delivering deadpan sass capable of choking even a ghost ship captain.
Duncan's mental image of Alice rapidly shifted from cursed doll to something more… complicated.
However, his outward expression remained composed, maintaining the stern façade of Captain Duncan. "So, aside from lying drowsily inside your box, you actually know nothing of the outside world. You can neither tell me about recent changes nor point me toward a single port or city-state?"
"I suppose that's correct, Captain," Alice admitted honestly. Then, realizing what she'd just said, she stared at Duncan anxiously. "So… does this mean you're planning to throw me overboard again? Because I'm not useful?"
Before Duncan could respond, Alice hurriedly continued: "Alright, I understand. This is your ship, after all. But please… could you refrain from putting cannonballs in the box this time? Eight was honestly a bit excessive…"
Clearly, Alice was not particularly happy—though she also didn't dare express her displeasure too openly.
Duncan felt extremely awkward. At the time, stuffing cannonballs inside the coffin had seemed entirely justified—he'd fully expected a stereotypical horror-movie doll scenario. But this particular doll seemed less like a vengeful spirit from a horror film and more like someone stepping out from a slapstick comedy.
All of his earlier precautions against supernatural horror had transformed into pure embarrassment.
Fortunately, Duncan had an incredibly thick skin—an essential trait for any would-be spectral captain. His natural stern visage, perpetually severe and imposing, helped him maintain his composure even as his pride suffered a small dent. Casually brushing off Alice's pointed remarks, he calmly shook his head.
"I haven't decided whether to throw you off again, considering you always manage to return anyway. I'm merely curious why you keep coming back to the Forsaken. Clearly, you fear me and my ship—wouldn't it be easier to escape this danger?"
"The Forsaken… that's the ship's name? You're right—I'm frightened by you and your ship," Alice replied quietly. In her eyes, Duncan was shrouded in shadow, an immense darkness looming behind him, melding with reality itself. Compared to that oppressive void, however, there were far worse horrors lurking beneath the depths of the Boundless Sea. "But isn't the deep sea even more terrifying?"
Her gentle voice trembled slightly, yet she gazed firmly into Duncan's eyes.
In that moment, Duncan recognized genuine fear in her—fear of something deeper and darker than even himself.
Slowly, Duncan leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look settling across his face. "So… even for a being like you, there's something out there scarier than me."
"Yes," Alice whispered softly. "Out there, beneath those waters… there are things far worse than ghosts or cursed ships."
An uneasy silence filled the captain's quarters. Duncan stared at Alice with newfound curiosity and unease. Perhaps this strange doll was more than she seemed—and perhaps the world itself was darker and deeper than even he had imagined.
Finally, he broke the silence, his voice low and steady. "Then maybe, for now, you'll be safer staying here."
Alice visibly relaxed, a grateful smile slowly forming on her porcelain lips. "Thank you, Captain Duncan."
He merely nodded, maintaining his stern façade. Yet inside, he felt oddly reassured.
After all, despite the strangeness, the absurdity, and the clear dangers ahead, he was no longer alone aboard this cursed ship.