The first thing Wayland saw when he reached the Flannan Isles wasn't an island, but a gargantuan cruise ship.
It completely blotted out the island behind it.
"What's wrong?" Max asked, nudging Wayland as he stood frozen in place. Following Wayland's gaze, he let out a laugh. "That's the Ocean Phantom. Built by the famous Royal Caribbean Cruise Line. She's about 362 meters long, 72 meters high, with a maximum beam of 60.5 meters. She can carry up to 5,400 passengers and features a ballroom, a theater with an ice rink, and even a full-sized gymnasium."
"Renting that must cost a fortune," Wayland managed to say, swallowing hard.
"Rent?" Elena turned to look at him, her brow arched. "This was custom-built for the Department of Policies. It's one of the largest cruise ships in the world."
"..."
'I'm sorry. My poverty clearly limited my imagination.'
Wayland stepped off the yacht and onto the island.
Looking around, the island felt small--one could see from one end to the other with a single sweep of the eyes.
He was currently at the highest point of the island. Behind the massive cruise ship stood a lighthouse, looking worn and weathered, as if it had been abandoned for a long time.
Further off, perhaps a few hundred meters away, were three larger islands and one smaller islet that looked like it had been suddenly reduced by three-quarters of its original size.
"Why isn't the base on the island itself?"
Wayland walked alongside Elena toward the Ocean Phantom, voicing his confusion. Using a literal cruise ship was certainly a show of wealth, but this was a deserted island. Wouldn't building a base on land be significantly cheaper?
"There's something wrong with this island."
Elena pointed toward the lighthouse at the summit. "Do you know how these ruins were discovered?"
"Does it have something to do with that lighthouse?" Wayland asked tentatively.
"In 1899, the Northern Lighthouse Board built a lighthouse on this uninhabited island to guide passing ships. It was staffed by four keepers. But when the relief ship arrived on December 26th, 1900, they found the place completely empty.
"Captain Joseph Moore carefully inspected the entrance and the gates; everything was locked tight. The living quarters were in perfect order, with no signs of struggle or damage. The only strange detail was that the clock on the wall had stopped.
"They searched the entire island but found no trace of the missing men. Later, the Lighthouse Board received a telegram sent by one of the keepers on the morning of December 26th: 'Something terrible has happened. The other three have vanished.'"
"That sounds like a variation of the Bermuda Triangle mystery."
"People thought so at first. Some believed the final keeper had killed the others in a fit of rage and then drowned himself, while others blamed natural phenomena or supernatural forces. It wasn't until last week, when a stray magus working for the government was organizing some old files, that he noticed something different.
"When Joseph Moore was searching the island, he found signs of a massive storm on the western side. Iron railings had been twisted and torn from their concrete moorings, and massive boulders had been displaced. He took photographs of one particular rock--a boulder weighing over a ton. The stray magus spotted a microscopic pattern on one of those photos.
"The pattern was very subtle: three double-lined vortices connected by three lines, forming a small, unique triangle. There's a saying in the Archaeology Department: 'Every pattern has a symbolic meaning.' That magus wasn't an archeologist, but he clearly recognized the significance. After some research, he confirmed that the pattern originated in Scotland between the 1st and 6th centuries BC."
"Ancient Scottish culture had a very peculiar trait," Max interrupted. "They left no written records. Our understanding of them comes entirely from inscriptions on statues and coins, and the patterns they carved into brooches, horse trappings, and weaponry. I suspect that's why these ruins remained undiscovered for a century."
Elena nodded. "The Scots--or rather, the Celts--believed that the gods were always beside them. They felt that mysterious, supernatural forces were everywhere, and they lived their lives guided by the Druids. Historians often describe Druids as priests or oracles, men who spent their lives memorizing myths and cultural traditions to pass them on to the next generation. That's why they never had a written language. But the Mage's Association, with its two-thousand-year history, knows the truth: the 'Druids' were actually magi of the Age of Gods."
Wayland's jaw dropped. Was he listening to a bedtime story or a reconstructed history?
He took a moment to digest the information. "So, according to your theory, these ruins are a site from Celtic mythology?"
"Exactly. But according to various inscriptions and works, there are nearly 400 deities in Celtic mythology, not to mention countless demigods and heroes. It's impossible to be certain who these ruins belong to, or even what they represent."
Elena clapped her hands together. "Come on. Our job here is to find the answers."
She led Wayland into the luxurious bridge of the ship with practiced ease.
Dozens of personnel were quietly focused on their screens, each attending to their specific duties. Not a single person looked up when the three of them entered.
Hishiri Adashino stood before a screen as large as a cinema curtain.
The display was divided into four quadrants. The top left, top right, and bottom right sections showed grainy underwater footage--just enough to tell that the cameras were on the seabed.
The images weren't static; they were moving slowly, occasionally capturing glimpses of various strange and exotic marine life.
Only the bottom-left quadrant was completely motionless.
"Captain," Elena called out.
Hishiri Adashino pulled her attention away from the screens and turned to face them. "The other three teams went down this morning. Your team is the only one left."
"Gathering the Celtic data took a bit longer than expected," Elena replied.
Hishiri gave a slight nod, then looked at Wayland with a frown. "Are you truly planning to let him act as an operative?"
"Wayland is highly proficient in fundamental magecraft. His versatility might prove useful to us."
"I hope so."
Hishiri felt that Wayland's strength was a bit too low for such a mission, but she had promised Lord Barthomeloi that she wouldn't interfere with his personal actions. Since he had applied for this himself, his life was his own responsibility.
She waved a hand dismissively. "Once you've donned your diving suits, you can begin. These suits are custom-made by the Department of Policies; they can withstand high-level magical attacks and are designed to handle earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, falling debris, and intense underwater pressure. The air tanks have also been reinforced to provide two hours of oxygen, but you'll need to surface to refill once the time is up."
Wayland nodded and took his suit.
As the three of them floated on the surface of the sea, a voice suddenly crackled in Wayland's headset.
"Hello, Wayland. I am Arisa Kano, member number four of the first team. My code-name is 'Ghost Star.' For the next few days, I will be your one-on-one contact. Your code-name for this operation is 112. If you discover anything, report it immediately."
"Understood."
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]