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To his great fortune, the enigmatic Frost Queen was unexpectedly open and forthcoming about the whole situation. She chose not to cloak her knowledge in veiled hints or abstract riddles. Instead, she offered a clear, direct account of her experiences. “Not long after I left the cathedral, I was immersed in various activities aimed at consolidating power. I was meeting different kinds of people, showing up at public events, and deeply involved in the political landscape,” she began, her lips curling upward slightly as she recalled the past. “During a fundraising event designed to bring influential individuals together, I encountered a peculiar old man.”

“Interestingly, he had managed to slip past the extensive security measures and intelligence operatives, making his way into the event uninvited. At first glance, he seemed like an academic, wearing scholarly robes and emanating an air of calm intelligence. It was quite a shock when I found out he had essentially gatecrashed the event! Even so, he and I were drawn into a riveting conversation that had me completely mesmerized by his depth of knowledge. Eventually, the security team discovered he was an unauthorized guest and had him escorted out.”

“But that was far from the last time I interacted with him,” she continued. “This mysterious old man had an uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere—sometimes at grand social events, sometimes at smaller, more private dinners with friends. He always managed to arrive just as everyone else was preoccupied, allowing us to converse freely. Our discussions ranged from history to complex mathematical theories to the nuances of scientific discoveries. And then, just before anyone could notice his presence, he would vanish as quietly as he had appeared. After that first security incident, he managed to stay completely undetected; to everyone else, he was as elusive as a ghost.”

She paused and her voice softened, tinged with a hint of nostalgia. “It’s so intriguing, don’t you think? A friend who is only visible to me, a companion in intellectual pursuits, a confidant, a spectral advisor of sorts. A phantom friend, for lack of a better term.”

“I made a deliberate choice to keep his existence hidden from others. At first, my reason was a fear of causing concern within the church. I knew that if the bishops were to find out about this mysterious figure, they might suspect that my psychic powers were becoming dangerously unpredictable, possibly leading them to lock me away. But for me, it wasn’t the notion of confinement that I feared; it was the loss of my invaluable time, which would be squandered away in some secluded chamber. Later, as I gradually gained control over the city-state, revealing the existence of my ‘secret advisor’ became an even greater risk. My position could be compromised,” Ray Nora elaborated.

“Our unique friendship endured for roughly three years. Despite our significant age gap, he became an incredibly important figure in my life. Just when I had grown accustomed to the idea that he would remain my ‘covert consultant’ indefinitely—perhaps even witnessing my eventual coronation—he suddenly appeared before me in the dim light just before dawn to say goodbye,” she continued.

“‘The window of opportunity has closed,’ he informed me with a somber tone, making it clear that this would be our last meeting,” Ray Nora paused for a moment as if reliving the emotions of that fateful day. “Then, he extended his palm towards me. Resting in it was the very brass key we’ve been discussing. He told me that this key wasn’t just a physical object; it was a nexus of sorts. The key held the power to connect disparate points across both time and space and was even capable of transmitting knowledge and memories. ‘One day, it will fulfill its purpose,’ he assured me.”

“After explaining the key’s extraordinary capabilities, my ‘phantom friend’ slowly turned away from me. His silhouette began to blend seamlessly with the first light of the emerging dawn. Just as the sun broke over the horizon, he disappeared, absorbed by the rising light. I never saw him again,” Ray Nora concluded.

Duncan was deeply engrossed in her storytelling, his mind awash with countless connections and insights. The puzzle pieces seemed to fit together in a pattern becoming increasingly familiar to him. When Ray Nora finished speaking, he couldn’t contain his conjecture any longer. “Wait, the man you’re describing… Could he be a…”

“An Ender Missionary, Captain Duncan,” Ray Nora interjected, finishing his sentence with a smile that suggested she’d been waiting for him to make that connection. “I had my suspicions early on, given my extensive training in the church and my familiarity with many religious texts. I’ve read enough to recognize the traits of the Enders.”

Duncan began to speak, his forehead creased in confusion. “So, you’re saying you befriended an Ender Missionary, but then…” He hesitated, struck by an inconsistency. “That doesn’t fit the usual profile of an Ender.”

“Exactly,” Ray Nora affirmed, nodding her head. “Though there were undeniable elements that aligned with the typical characteristics of Enders, his persona was fundamentally different. Unlike the manic, fervent followers we generally associate with Enders, this man was lucid, intellectually engaging, affable, and even kind-hearted. The only commonality he shared with typical Enders was his uncanny ability for what might be termed ‘non-linear interventions’—the way he could appear and disappear in such mysterious circumstances.”

“Typically, Enders are known to be erratic and unstable—usually incapable of rational thought. The constant disruptions in their timelines tend to muddle their cognitive functions, and their fanatical devotion to the realm of subspace often results in shattered sanity,” Duncan noted, clearly puzzled. “However, the individual you encountered seems to be the polar opposite of this description.”

He paused abruptly as if jolted by an electric current. A long-forgotten memory had resurfaced, related not to someone else but to his own past experience.

Years before, Tyrian had shared a conversation with him about a mysterious event that occurred a century ago. According to Tyrian, the night before the fateful voyage of the Vanished, a group of mysterious figures dressed as if they were monks had appeared as if out of nowhere. The Captain Duncan back then had engaged in an all-night dialogue. Then just as mysterious as they came, the group evaporating from existence with the first rays of dawn.

Tyrian had always speculated that the visit from these mysterious individuals had triggered the “Vanished’s” pivotal journey toward what was known as the “Frontier.” Intriguingly, these figures fit the description of rational, well-spoken Ender Missionaries.

Though his current form restricted him from displaying nuanced emotions, Duncan’s sudden pause and slight shift in eye movements didn’t escape Ray Nora’s razor-sharp perception. Sensing a change, she inquired, “Did you recall something?”

Instead of responding immediately, Duncan met her gaze and allowed a weighty silence to fill the room. It was as if they were two seasoned warriors communicating through unsaid words and veiled histories.

Ray Nora’s “friend” was not an isolated anomaly; there seemed to be a subgroup of rational, articulate Ender Missionaries within the usually zealous and unpredictable Ender community. This subgroup operated on what was known as “window periods,” intervals of time when they could safely interact with the human world, and their motives remained deeply enigmatic.

As Duncan mentally wrestled with this newfound understanding, his thoughts churned like a turbulent ocean, each swell bringing with it a new theory or insight. Amidst this cognitive tempest, one idea emerged as an anchor. Finally breaking the silence, he announced, “They also visited the ‘Vanished.\'”

For the first time, Ray Nora’s composed demeanor showed signs of astonishment. It seemed she was not as unflappable as she had initially appeared to be.

“You’ve had contact with these coherent Ender Missionaries too?” Ray Nora hastily questioned, her eyes glowing with renewed interest. “What did they tell you? What messages did they…”

“I can’t remember, unfortunately,” Duncan cut her off, stifling her burgeoning excitement. “The degradation caused by my exposure to subspace has erased that segment of my memory. I only know of my previous engagement with them through secondary accounts.”

A shadow of disappointment quickly swept across Ray Nora’s face, like a passing cloud momentarily darkening the bright sky.

Regaining his focus, Duncan steered the conversation back to its original topic. “When you realized your friend was an unconventional Ender, didn’t you feel compelled to dig deeper into his true identity? Weren’t you curious about his ultimate intentions?”

“I did inquire, but to expect a straightforward answer would have been naive,” Ray Nora sighed, her voice tinged with a sense of futility. “Although we had a good working relationship, every time I tried to delve into the subject of his true ‘identity,’ he would deflect with a vague reply: ‘The time isn’t right; don’t venture beyond the ‘border’ prematurely.\'”

Duncan repeated the phrase, “Don’t venture beyond the ‘border’ prematurely,” while furrowing his brow. “It’s surprisingly open-minded of you to establish a friendship with such an enigmatic figure under these ambiguous conditions.”

“In my experience, most sources of power come with their own set of dangers,” Ray Nora explained with a matter-of-fact tone. “Compared to the ‘dreams’ that have haunted me since my childhood, an Ender seems relatively benign.”

Not offering any immediate response, Duncan rose from his seat and walked toward a darker corner of the room. Before completely turning away, he posed one final question. “What are your plans for your future?”

Ray Nora looked puzzled by the question. “Future?”

“Do you intend to stay trapped in this drifting nexus forever?” Duncan asked, his chin gesturing towards a massive ‘tentacle’ that seemed to reach out from the dark depths of the sea. “Is your plan to eternally suppress this ‘erroneous clone’ using the power of your dreams?”

“And what alternative do you suggest?”

“The alternative is uncertain in its feasibility,” Duncan admitted. “But what would happen if I could completely eliminate this erroneous clone?”

Ray Nora paused, contemplating deeply before answering, “Freedom. Both the clone and I would finally be liberated.”

“And what comes after liberation?”

“That is something I cannot foresee,” Ray Nora acknowledged, shaking her head. “I don’t have the ability to imagine what reality would look like once this never-ending nightmare comes to an end. The nexus could lose its current anchor and attach itself to another location. Alternatively, I might sever my connection to the physical realm entirely, transitioning into a spectral form in a sort of purgatorial state, waiting for the day this room opens again.”

Duncan’s voice took on a more serious tone. “That doesn’t sound like a particularly appealing prospect. Being exiled into eternal nothingness hardly seems better than being trapped in an endless nightmare.”

“You’re correct,” Ray Nora agreed. “It might even be a more grim fate. This room isn’t under my control; it drifts unpredictably. It’s more likely to spiral into the depths of subspace than to find another anchor in the ‘real world.\'”

Duncan found himself immersed in deep contemplation, his thoughts swirling like a tempest, too complex and entangled to express aloud at the moment.

“If you do indeed have the power to end this dreadful situation, I’d strongly encourage you to act now while time permits.”

Meeting her gaze intently, Duncan’s voice was soft, almost a hushed murmur in response, “Are you sure you want this? Even if it could potentially sentence you to an eternity of isolation?”

Ray Nora’s smile was tinged with sadness as she responded, “Living in a perpetual nightmare is its own kind of eternal exile, wouldn’t you agree? Achieving liberation now would also remove a sustained threat hanging over Frost. It would ensure the safety and stability of my city-state and my people, at least for a considerable length of time.”

Her words hung in the air, conveying a gravity that underscored her willingness to make personal sacrifices for the greater good. It was a grim choice, but it was clear that she had weighed her options and had come to accept the potential consequences.