The Night Garden continued to descend into the cold waters of the Stormsea. Sunny had allowed the dome of shadows to collapse into a torrent of flowing darkness and vanish, thus allowing Jet and the Saints of Night to see what was happening around the titanic ship.
"At least there's wind. That is a good sign." The presence of wind indicated that the Night Garden was producing its own oxygen, probably absorbing it from the surrounding water. The carbon dioxide generated by millions of people breathing in its depths was probably being absorbed by the trees growing on the main deck... Which didn't really make sense, considering that there was no sun here. However, the living ship was known to have a mystical effect on all flora growing aboard it, so Sunny would not be surprised to learn that the groves on the surface decks of the Night Garden could thrive even in these conditions.
He himself had a tree that thrived in the darkness of the Forgotten Shore, after all, out there in the courtyard of the Nameless Temple.
In any case, checking to see if the air was not growing stale was one of the tasks Aether and Bloodwave were going to perform. Naeve, meanwhile, was busy monitoring the situation on the lower decks and in the cavernous holds of the living ship, where the passengers were hidden. Everything seemed to be going fine, at least for now. So, Sunny allowed himself to relax... but only a little.
Both he and Jet were still tense, keeping themselves in a state of battle readiness. After all, they did not know what problems the Night Garden could experience while descending into the dark depths of the Stormsea after decades of only sailing on its surface.
On top of that, there were external threats they could encounter, as well... and the nature of their environment dictated an entirely different approach to battle — one that was inherently disadvantageous for land predators like them.
Even if the descent proceeded without any accidents, though, what awaited them in the abyssal depths was the Eternal City, all the horrors populating it, and the unknown calamity that had slaughtered all the other nightmare creatures in the waters above them.
'How exciting...'
Time passed slowly.
But even after a long while... nothing seemed to happen.
The darkness of the surrounding waters had grown even more absolute. Then, it grew eerie and frightening.
Jet glanced around with a total lack of amusement on her pale face and leaned on her scythe, seemingly seeking comfort in the cold steel of its ghostly blade.
"Ah, I don't like this at all."
Sunny, however, was not inclined to agree. “I am quite happy, though.”
She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. He nodded to the eerie darkness outside the shimmering sphere of light produced by the Night Garden.
“I think we have more or less reached the depth where I gave up on pursuing Old Tom. The pressure was giving trouble to Naeve and Bloodwave back then, but do you feel anything now? No. The hull may be creaking a little, but it seems like the Night Garden is protecting its passengers from the weight of the sea, too.”
Jet smiled faintly.
"That's true."
Sunny lingered for a few seconds.
“Have you been to the Chained Isles before the war?"
Jet tilted her head a little.
"Not really. Why?"
He shrugged.
"It's just that diving this deep felt like experiencing the Crushing all over again. Not the most pleasant experience."
Of course, on the Chained Isles, enormous chains prevented islands from rising too high, so he had only ever suffered the most harmless extent of the Crushing. Its full wrath was far more devastating, capable of obliterating even the most powerful abominations.
The master of the Ivory Island wielded the Crushing as a Component now. If used as a weapon, it could decimate entire regions. If used as a shield, it could prevent even a god from reaching the heavenly island unscathed.
Sunny wanted to comment on how the pressure of the abyssal depths was similar to that, but then fell silent abruptly.
Out there, in the darkness beyond the light of the Night Garden...
A colossal tentacle slowly drifted in the cold void, moving past the descending ship in the distance.
It was oddly limp and still.
Noticing his expression, Jet frowned. “What's the matter?"
Sunny peered into the darkness for a while, silent.
Eventually, he responded in a quiet tone:
“I think it's Old Tom. It... it seems to be dead."