Ocean of the Deep Ones

At the edge of a boundless ocean, a reddish vapor condensed and transformed into a complete man. The gritty sand grated against Cain's feet as he stood at the edge of the vast wasteland, gazing toward the ocean's horizon.

A briny breeze ruffled his hair while searing sunlight beat down, contrasting the cool mist enveloping his body.

Before he continued, he decided it was time to gather his thoughts and process everything that had transpired. He was the original personality of the identity of Cain. However, he had relinquished his life, allowing another version of himself to take his place.

It was a bizarre circumstance, one he needed to come to terms with. Thankfully, he managed to regain control and vanquish that malevolent aspect of himself. Yet now, he was left with the aftermath.

He uncovered information he had never known existed, skills that felt like innate abilities, and a body that differed from his recollections. The most peculiar aspect was the paradox of feeling both immensely powerful and incredibly weak, as though he hadn't tapped into his full potential. It was akin to being boosted in a video game, a form of cheating where he hadn't earned the advantages, yet found himself in this position.

Cain refrained from advancing closer to the ocean. Instead, he focused on his mind and the concealed knowledge within it. Moments later, Cain opened his eyes to a strange realm where he was standing on an ocean that went on forever in every direction.

Looking up he found himself surrounded by windows containing memories.

He delved into one, witnessing a madman experimenting on humans - even his own people.

Fleeting memories of his alternate self flashed through his mind as he gazed into another.

Each window showing the other Cain's descent into madness had been gradual. Once driven by justice and revenge, the alternate Cain slowly lost empathy for his victims and allies, seeing them as mere means to an end.

Although he did bad things the reasons behind them were good. But eventually the line between his actions and views became smudged and blurry.

By the time he realized he was a monster, it was too late and he accepted what he had become.

He was a man that had forsaken his cause and existed solely for himself.

Navigating the memories, Cain could smell the sterile scent of the laboratory, heard the echoes of screams, and felt the cold metal of instruments in his hands. He saw himself prodding and dissecting lifeless bodies through the madman's eyes.

It was a grotesque, visceral journey into the twisted mind of his alternate self.

It was the life of a devil, a malevolence that had lost its meaning. This was what Cain needed to atone for—the innocents his hands had taken. Nevertheless, he was reluctant to let this consume his existence.

Cain refused to let this guilt dominate his being; he couldn't wholly adopt the role of martyr. He still pursued answers, even those his alternate self had left behind.

He recalled the perplexing dream of having a mother and being sent to Netherane, which spawned more questions.

'What precisely is a contaminant? Why were these scenes hidden from my memory? What is this place? What is that system?'

He continued to explore another life, observing its struggles, despite there being few. He realized that this 'evil version of him' possessed far greater intelligence, cunning, and overall superiority.

Was it due to having more time to change? Was it the result of unwavering conviction? Or was it because he had detached himself from everything around him?

Cain lacked the answers, but now grasped what he must emulate to accomplish his aim.

'I acquired Netherane's core, which merged with me...'

A quick exam revealed his snow-white skin, devoid of veins. It was as white as snow.

'Based on my analysis, my body possesses remarkable healing capabilities, superhuman strength, and endurance. I'm supposedly...immortal? Additionally, my superior nervous system elevates my reflexes to a heightened level, coupled with evolved memory and brain activity...'

Exiting his mental realm, he approached the ocean, sweeping his hands through the salty water, catching a potent scent.

'I can smell salt? Nonetheless, it appears that my physical abilities have been compromised more than my mist abilities. Though I can't aid those unfortunate souls just yet... I'm no longer immortal, and I'm physically weakened.

Thus, my sole means of offense and defense lies within my mist. However, I seem to have gained enhanced control over the soul... that other me could only enter or invade others.'

Cain then shut his eyes once again, reopening them to his mental domain.

Multiple memory branches diverged from the central ocean. A quick look revealed where each one led.

'That path leads to one of the mist ghosts... that one encompasses all my memories... and that one leads to... was that where the other me resided?'

Exiting a hub-like region, Cain proceeded down a winding path towards a realm of despair. The ocean turned crimson, bones surfacing through its thickness. Blood crystalline pillars were carved into towering forms, and the sky was shrouded in darkness, with faint illumination emanating from a closed eye.

'This is his mind... the mind of someone consumed by insanity? Is this my responsibility... for birthing him into existence? How should I feel?'

Had Cain not relinquished his existence, this version of him would never have materialized, sparing him the pain and mania he had endured. Netherane would have continued to exist, and innocence would have lived.

However, even if he wished for that outcome, it was implausible. The world operated differently, and eventual circumstances could have led to something even worse, such as Numineer exerting complete control over minds and all.

Cain understood why this him had acted as he did, yet he wished it didn't involve so much despair. It was akin to beholding the version of himself that he have been, the self he had pushed upon another.

"I will make this right," Cain vowed, steeling his resolve. "I will create a world where no one has to suffer as you did. A world where light can flourish and goodness prevails. Where benevolent can find solace."

He closed and opened his eyes again. He returned to reality once more.

Cain employed his hands as makeshift binoculars, peering into the vast expanse of the ocean.

'So this place is the Ocean of the Deep Ones... I suppose diving beneath the waves must be avoided.'

Mist enveloped him, obscuring his features and form. Ascending above the ground, he embarked on his journey, soaring toward the horizon.

.....

After several hours of flight, resonant booms reverberated. Explosion followed explosion, revealing a colossal battlefield where ships clashed.

Wooden bridges, constructed from planks, facilitated the movement of foes between vessels. Ropes were severed and swung upon, mimicking a similar effect, while cannons launched unfamiliar projectiles at other ships ensnared in their own struggles.

These sizable wooden vessels held nearly a hundred people each. With lowered sails and primed cannons, they displayed diverse details and damage.

Below the fray, lightly garbed individuals dueled with oddly shaped swords.

Cain found this scene invigorating and novel, infusing him with a sense of excitement and adventure. 'I should delve into the situation and acquire some information?'

With a decision made in his mind, he descended onto the nearest ship, seeking answers about this captivating realm.