故事模式劇情詳表/Absolute Reason
3-1
解鎖條件：通過Antithese
夜色將至。屋外，太陽所溢出的琥珀色暮光馬不停蹄地想要從天際溜走，
奈何被草坪中的那幾臺裝置捕捉並捲入，轉變為近似月光的柔和射線。
這場宴會帶有種獨特的氣氛。雖然莊園外一個人都沒有，但是對上流人士來說，
保持形象似乎比任何事都來得重要。她瞭解這一切——從一開始便是。她坐在較暗一點的地方，
而被捕捉的陽光則重現於她如今無法觸及的天花板與階梯。
少女靜靜地思考著潛藏於那些淵博知識之中的涵義。
“拉薇妮雅。”
她的視線從玻璃杯上移走。而她的未婚夫（穿著整齊，甚至能用古板來形容，
但是姿態相當輕鬆自如）正站在她的面前。
“想好今晚喝什麼了？”
她用那只正常的眼睛注視著杯中的液體，答道：“嗯，多納文……我點了紫蘇梅汁。”
“不錯。”他笑著回應，一邊環顧房間的四周。
少女茫然地瞧著他的表情，而他假笑著。
“媽媽與大家都說蔓越莓汁更健康喔，不過……”
他說道，並再次朝她瞥去，“喝起來也更苦，不是嗎？你也不喜歡吧？”
她想了想，畏縮道：“我不喜歡。”
“那就好。”他輕笑一聲，轉過身去，“我接下來要去跟摩根聊聊，
不過隨時歡迎你加入我們。”
少女點了點頭，多納文就走去壁爐旁的那群老朋友們身邊。
一如往常，形象的維護是必不可少的。在引線被卷起存入地上的燈籠前，
那凹槽中的火焰只把自身的光輝投出幾英寸遠。房間的其餘場所一片黑暗，卻使人感到安心。
掛在上方的幾個燈籠剛好提供了足够讓人們進行閱讀、辨識各自面孔，
以及分配經過了精挑細選的食物和一瓶瓶飲料所需要的光線。在那半面為玻璃的牆壁外部，
如今室外景色模糊不清，隱約能够辨識出野花、石頭與溪流：籠罩於深藍夜幕之下，仿佛一條綢緞。
宴會上有二十名來賓，一半在這個房間裏，
其他人可能在大廳或是某處的書房——或許是圖書館也說不定。
她所知道的只有這麼多。
她細細品嘗了她的果汁。她從中感受到了一絲甜味，
但這紫蘇梅汁依然不能讓她產生多大的印象。
少女顯然能回憶起某種更好的滋味和感覺，但現在她還是試圖讓思緒集中在舌尖上的味蕾。
可惜，這還是不足以打動她，這味道實在是過於普通。
她將玻璃杯擱在一旁那張矮桌的奇异桌布上。她坐了下來，凝聽、觀察著四周，
幾分心不在焉地撫摸著於她的另一隻眼中綻放的花瓣。
她聽見多納文說，“但仔細想想，他們現在已經做了那麼多了。
我第一次聽到這主意的時候，我甚至覺得這完全行不通。”
“嗯，查理斯對這一點十分確信。”另一名來賓說道——不是摩根，而是娜塔莉亞。
“真讓人意外，”多納文認同道，手指游離於發梢。
“一個完整的世界，全部由人類的雙手打造……”他說，“我們人類可真了不起。”
It's early evening. Outside, the twilight amber flowing out from the sun tries to slip by without
pause, but the devices within the surrounding meadows catch and spool it, changing it to rays
more similar to what might be cast from the moon.
The party has a certain atmosphere. Though there are no eyes without the manor, the fact is that
maintaining an image is paramount to those of upper echelons. She knows this, all of this, innately.
Sitting in a darker place, with sunlight captured and held at ceilings and staircases presently
beyond her reach, she considers the implications of this knowledge in calm and in silence.
"Lavinia."
She looks up from her glass. The fiancé (dressed very well, almost stuffily, but in casual
posture) is standing before her.
"What have you decided to drink tonight?"
She looks at it through her one proper eye. She answers: "Plum juice… Donovan."
"Keen," he says with a smile, looking out toward the rest of the room. She looks at his
expression blankly. He smirks. "Mum and the rest prefer cranberry—for health, they say—
but…" he says, glancing at her again. "It's a bitter taste, isn't it? You don't like it either,
do you?"
She thinks, wincing. "I don't."
"And that is to the good." He chuckles, then turns away. "I'll go speak with Morgan.
Join us whenever you like."
She nods, and Donovan moves to their mutual childhood friend near the fireplace.
As always, images need to be maintained. The fire throws its light only a few feet out from the pit
before the threads of it are wound away, stored into lanterns on the floor. The rest of the room is
dark, but comforting. It's a setting to relax within. A few lanterns above give just enough illumination
for reading, seeing each other's faces, and the spread of carefully selected portions of food along
with bottles of drink. Just outside the room, through half-glass walls, an almost untame scene of
wildflowers, stones, and streams is dimly visible: wrapped in a midnight blue, almost like satin.
There are twenty guests at the party, half in this room, the rest in the halls or somewhere in other
studies—perhaps the library. This is as much as she knows.
She drinks her juice, tastes it. She notes the sweetness, not having had much experience with
plum juice herself. She recalls something about a better taste and sensation, but in the moment
now she is compelled to focus on how the liquid feels along her tongue. However, she can make
no true determination of it. It is remarkably unremarkable.
She puts the glass down on the fanciful doily of the short table beside her. She sits, listens, and
watches, touching the flower petals blooming from her other eye rather absently.
She hears Donovan say, "But to think they』ve done so much already. When I first heard of the idea,
I was sure it wasn’t possible."
"Well, Charles is quite sure it is," says another of the guests—not Morgan, but Nathalia.
"Astounding," Donovan grants, running his fingers through the top of his hair.
"A whole entire world, made by human hands," he says. "Mankind is quite something."
解鎖條件：通過Antithese
夜色將至。屋外，太陽所溢出的琥珀色暮光馬不停蹄地想要從天際溜走，
奈何被草坪中的那幾臺裝置捕捉並捲入，轉變為近似月光的柔和射線。
這場宴會帶有種獨特的氣氛。雖然莊園外一個人都沒有，但是對上流人士來說，
保持形象似乎比任何事都來得重要。她瞭解這一切——從一開始便是。她坐在較暗一點的地方，
而被捕捉的陽光則重現於她如今無法觸及的天花板與階梯。
少女靜靜地思考著潛藏於那些淵博知識之中的涵義。
“拉薇妮雅。”
她的視線從玻璃杯上移走。而她的未婚夫（穿著整齊，甚至能用古板來形容，
但是姿態相當輕鬆自如）正站在她的面前。
“想好今晚喝什麼了？”
她用那只正常的眼睛注視著杯中的液體，答道：“嗯，多納文……我點了紫蘇梅汁。”
“不錯。”他笑著回應，一邊環顧房間的四周。
少女茫然地瞧著他的表情，而他假笑著。
“媽媽與大家都說蔓越莓汁更健康喔，不過……”
他說道，並再次朝她瞥去，“喝起來也更苦，不是嗎？你也不喜歡吧？”
她想了想，畏縮道：“我不喜歡。”
“那就好。”他輕笑一聲，轉過身去，“我接下來要去跟摩根聊聊，
不過隨時歡迎你加入我們。”
少女點了點頭，多納文就走去壁爐旁的那群老朋友們身邊。
一如往常，形象的維護是必不可少的。在引線被卷起存入地上的燈籠前，
那凹槽中的火焰只把自身的光輝投出幾英寸遠。房間的其餘場所一片黑暗，卻使人感到安心。
掛在上方的幾個燈籠剛好提供了足够讓人們進行閱讀、辨識各自面孔，
以及分配經過了精挑細選的食物和一瓶瓶飲料所需要的光線。在那半面為玻璃的牆壁外部，
如今室外景色模糊不清，隱約能够辨識出野花、石頭與溪流：籠罩於深藍夜幕之下，仿佛一條綢緞。
宴會上有二十名來賓，一半在這個房間裏，
其他人可能在大廳或是某處的書房——或許是圖書館也說不定。
她所知道的只有這麼多。
她細細品嘗了她的果汁。她從中感受到了一絲甜味，
但這紫蘇梅汁依然不能讓她產生多大的印象。
少女顯然能回憶起某種更好的滋味和感覺，但現在她還是試圖讓思緒集中在舌尖上的味蕾。
可惜，這還是不足以打動她，這味道實在是過於普通。
她將玻璃杯擱在一旁那張矮桌的奇异桌布上。她坐了下來，凝聽、觀察著四周，
幾分心不在焉地撫摸著於她的另一隻眼中綻放的花瓣。
她聽見多納文說，“但仔細想想，他們現在已經做了那麼多了。
我第一次聽到這主意的時候，我甚至覺得這完全行不通。”
“嗯，查理斯對這一點十分確信。”另一名來賓說道——不是摩根，而是娜塔莉亞。
“真讓人意外，”多納文認同道，手指游離於發梢。
“一個完整的世界，全部由人類的雙手打造……”他說，“我們人類可真了不起。”
It's early evening. Outside, the twilight amber flowing out from the sun tries to slip by without
pause, but the devices within the surrounding meadows catch and spool it, changing it to rays
more similar to what might be cast from the moon.
The party has a certain atmosphere. Though there are no eyes without the manor, the fact is that
maintaining an image is paramount to those of upper echelons. She knows this, all of this, innately.
Sitting in a darker place, with sunlight captured and held at ceilings and staircases presently
beyond her reach, she considers the implications of this knowledge in calm and in silence.
"Lavinia."
She looks up from her glass. The fiancé (dressed very well, almost stuffily, but in casual
posture) is standing before her.
"What have you decided to drink tonight?"
She looks at it through her one proper eye. She answers: "Plum juice… Donovan."
"Keen," he says with a smile, looking out toward the rest of the room. She looks at his
expression blankly. He smirks. "Mum and the rest prefer cranberry—for health, they say—
but…" he says, glancing at her again. "It's a bitter taste, isn't it? You don't like it either,
do you?"
She thinks, wincing. "I don't."
"And that is to the good." He chuckles, then turns away. "I'll go speak with Morgan.
Join us whenever you like."
She nods, and Donovan moves to their mutual childhood friend near the fireplace.
As always, images need to be maintained. The fire throws its light only a few feet out from the pit
before the threads of it are wound away, stored into lanterns on the floor. The rest of the room is
dark, but comforting. It's a setting to relax within. A few lanterns above give just enough illumination
for reading, seeing each other's faces, and the spread of carefully selected portions of food along
with bottles of drink. Just outside the room, through half-glass walls, an almost untame scene of
wildflowers, stones, and streams is dimly visible: wrapped in a midnight blue, almost like satin.
There are twenty guests at the party, half in this room, the rest in the halls or somewhere in other
studies—perhaps the library. This is as much as she knows.
She drinks her juice, tastes it. She notes the sweetness, not having had much experience with
plum juice herself. She recalls something about a better taste and sensation, but in the moment
now she is compelled to focus on how the liquid feels along her tongue. However, she can make
no true determination of it. It is remarkably unremarkable.
She puts the glass down on the fanciful doily of the short table beside her. She sits, listens, and
watches, touching the flower petals blooming from her other eye rather absently.
She hears Donovan say, "But to think they』ve done so much already. When I first heard of the idea,
I was sure it wasn’t possible."
"Well, Charles is quite sure it is," says another of the guests—not Morgan, but Nathalia.
"Astounding," Donovan grants, running his fingers through the top of his hair.
"A whole entire world, made by human hands," he says. "Mankind is quite something."
3-2
解鎖條件：通過Corruption
片刻前，她的目光飄忽於燈籠搖曳的光線，現在她則找尋起自己的未婚夫來。
她再度伸手拿起玻璃杯，啜了一小口；這樣足够讓她想起為什麼當初要把它擱在一旁了。
創造世界的事情，根本只是他們腦中不可靠的幻想而已。他們沒有更深入地討論。
他們其實並不瞭解它。那群人究竟說過哪些他們真正感興趣的話題——說實話，
她沒法準確地回想起來。真讓人心煩意亂。有時候，她甚至覺得他們根本就沒在說話。
少女開始感到厭煩。她起身離開客廳，走去那些更豪華，更有夜晚魅力的大廳；
穿過幾間雖有親切感，但對她而言依然陌生的房間。她將這地方探索了一遍，
發現了一條未點燈的漆黑路徑，以及幾扇把手似乎上了鎖，卻看不見鎖孔的門。
能够打開的那些門後方，是幾對男女在房裏，聊天的聲音小到聽不清楚。
他們雖然注意到她的存在，但只是瞥了一眼，就回到方才談話或休息的狀態。
她想去外邊走走。
先進的科技遍佈於這座莊園，但莊園整體卻與古老的“階級制度”理念相融。
沒錯，那些調光器十分奇特，而這整片人造的荒野也極為古怪。
不過這其中讓她最感興趣的科技，是安置在花園中的那些光能轉換裝置。
她雖然知曉它們，卻是初次親眼所見。
用單個詞語來形容：她很“好奇”。
人們總重複著單調乏味的社交活動，使今日與過去的千百天幾乎毫無差別，
而她對涉獵此類日子毫無興趣。生命與創造皆無比迷人，從中選出一者難如登天。
但就在她緩緩靠近通往前車道的大門時……
就在她的手指觸摸到眼前那巨大的木把手時……
她明白過來，外頭沒有任何事物——至少對她而言，從一開始便是如此。
這整個世界上，沒有任何其他能讓她容身的地方。
她的歸屬并不是於草坪中讚賞那堆機械科技，而是那間狹窄的准夫妻起居室。
“外部”僅僅是個想法。一個毫無營養，轉瞬即逝的概念。
這可不是個會讓她感到開心的領會。
她的手從門把手上滑落。隨即她轉過身，站在一盞吊燈底下。
那吊燈上面裝潢的每一片鏡片都映照著這一刻的世界別處的景象——
總是不斷地轉換，展現著那些她無法前去的場所。
柔和的，宛如星空般的彩燈環繞在固定裝置的周圍，讓那物體與這整片場地都顯得過於虛幻。
她的眼神、她的嘴唇，未闡述任何思緒。步伐聲中燃起些許不滿，她步履艱難地回到了宅邸之中。
Her eye had wandered to the flickering of a lantern, and now it seeks the expectant husband.
She reaches for her glass and takes a sip; it's enough to make her remember why she had put it
down in the first place.
The matter of a created world is only really a fickle fancy of theirs. They do not discuss it much.
They do not much understand it. What little they might have to say of true interest, she can't, in
fact, properly remember. Irritating. At times, it even feels to her like they aren't speaking at all.
The girl grows impatient. She stands and passes out of the sitting room into more lavish, more
evening- themed halls, passing rooms with which she's familiar, but only vaguely. She explores,
finding stretches of unlit, pitch-black paths, and doors that seem to be locked though their knobs
bear no holes for unlocking. What doors are open show rooms of a few men and women each,
chatting too quietly to discern. If they ever notice her presence, they only look her way a moment
before returning to conversation or rest.
She wants to go outside.
The manor has some technological sophistication to it, but is married to its ideals of old "class".
Yes, the dimming canisters are curious, and the manufactured wilds are peculiar, but what interests
her the most are the light-transforming machines in the gardens. She knows of them, but has yet to
see them firsthand.
In a word, she is "curious".
The humdrum of a social gathering so often repeated that this day feels like a thousand identical
others is not something she wishes to dabble in long. Lives and creations are too fascinating to
ever take either for granted.
But as she approaches the doors to the front driveway...
As her fingers slip upon the wood of the grand handles before her...
She knows, innately, that there is nothing past there, nothing for her. In the entire world, there is
nowhere else she could be. Her place is not in the meadows admiring mechanisms, it is in the
sitting room with the husband-to-be.
"Outside" is only an idea. A fruitless, ephemeral concept.
That is not a favorable realization.
Dropping her hand she turns and stands below the chandelier, each of its shards showing an image
of somewhere else in the world, at this moment. Shifting, always, and speaking of places she
cannot go. Fading, almost celestial illumination hangs around the fixture, giving this place and
that object a too-unreal quality. Her eye, her lips, say nothing. She trudges back into the mansion,
with a small fire of discontent born within her.
解鎖條件：通過Corruption
片刻前，她的目光飄忽於燈籠搖曳的光線，現在她則找尋起自己的未婚夫來。
她再度伸手拿起玻璃杯，啜了一小口；這樣足够讓她想起為什麼當初要把它擱在一旁了。
創造世界的事情，根本只是他們腦中不可靠的幻想而已。他們沒有更深入地討論。
他們其實並不瞭解它。那群人究竟說過哪些他們真正感興趣的話題——說實話，
她沒法準確地回想起來。真讓人心煩意亂。有時候，她甚至覺得他們根本就沒在說話。
少女開始感到厭煩。她起身離開客廳，走去那些更豪華，更有夜晚魅力的大廳；
穿過幾間雖有親切感，但對她而言依然陌生的房間。她將這地方探索了一遍，
發現了一條未點燈的漆黑路徑，以及幾扇把手似乎上了鎖，卻看不見鎖孔的門。
能够打開的那些門後方，是幾對男女在房裏，聊天的聲音小到聽不清楚。
他們雖然注意到她的存在，但只是瞥了一眼，就回到方才談話或休息的狀態。
她想去外邊走走。
先進的科技遍佈於這座莊園，但莊園整體卻與古老的“階級制度”理念相融。
沒錯，那些調光器十分奇特，而這整片人造的荒野也極為古怪。
不過這其中讓她最感興趣的科技，是安置在花園中的那些光能轉換裝置。
她雖然知曉它們，卻是初次親眼所見。
用單個詞語來形容：她很“好奇”。
人們總重複著單調乏味的社交活動，使今日與過去的千百天幾乎毫無差別，
而她對涉獵此類日子毫無興趣。生命與創造皆無比迷人，從中選出一者難如登天。
但就在她緩緩靠近通往前車道的大門時……
就在她的手指觸摸到眼前那巨大的木把手時……
她明白過來，外頭沒有任何事物——至少對她而言，從一開始便是如此。
這整個世界上，沒有任何其他能讓她容身的地方。
她的歸屬并不是於草坪中讚賞那堆機械科技，而是那間狹窄的准夫妻起居室。
“外部”僅僅是個想法。一個毫無營養，轉瞬即逝的概念。
這可不是個會讓她感到開心的領會。
她的手從門把手上滑落。隨即她轉過身，站在一盞吊燈底下。
那吊燈上面裝潢的每一片鏡片都映照著這一刻的世界別處的景象——
總是不斷地轉換，展現著那些她無法前去的場所。
柔和的，宛如星空般的彩燈環繞在固定裝置的周圍，讓那物體與這整片場地都顯得過於虛幻。
她的眼神、她的嘴唇，未闡述任何思緒。步伐聲中燃起些許不滿，她步履艱難地回到了宅邸之中。
Her eye had wandered to the flickering of a lantern, and now it seeks the expectant husband.
She reaches for her glass and takes a sip; it’s enough to make her remember why she had put it
down in the first place.
The matter of a created world is only really a fickle fancy of theirs. They do not discuss it much.
They do not much understand it. What little they might have to say of true interest, she can’t, in
fact, properly remember. Irritating. At times, it even feels to her like they aren’t speaking at all.
The girl grows impatient. She stands and passes out of the sitting room into more lavish, more
evening- themed halls, passing rooms with which she’s familiar, but only vaguely. She explores,
finding stretches of unlit, pitch-black paths, and doors that seem to be locked though their knobs
bear no holes for unlocking. What doors are open show rooms of a few men and women each,
chatting too quietly to discern. If they ever notice her presence, they only look her way a moment
before returning to conversation or rest.
She wants to go outside.
The manor has some technological sophistication to it, but is married to its ideals of old "class".
Yes, the dimming canisters are curious, and the manufactured wilds are peculiar, but what interests
her the most are the light-transforming machines in the gardens. She knows of them, but has yet to
see them firsthand.
In a word, she is "curious".
The humdrum of a social gathering so often repeated that this day feels like a thousand identical
others is not something she wishes to dabble in long. Lives and creations are too fascinating to
ever take either for granted.
But as she approaches the doors to the front driveway...
As her fingers slip upon the wood of the grand handles before her...
She knows, innately, that there is nothing past there, nothing for her. In the entire world, there is
nowhere else she could be. Her place is not in the meadows admiring mechanisms, it is in the
sitting room with the husband-to-be.
"Outside" is only an idea. A fruitless, ephemeral concept.
That is not a favorable realization.
Dropping her hand she turns and stands below the chandelier, each of its shards showing an image
of somewhere else in the world, at this moment. Shifting, always, and speaking of places she
cannot go. Fading, almost celestial illumination hangs around the fixture, giving this place and
that object a too-unreal quality. Her eye, her lips, say nothing. She trudges back into the mansion,
with a small fire of discontent born within her.
3-3
解鎖條件：採用咲彌通過Black Territory
一陣狂風將牆後原野中的花瓣吹落一地。
純白與蔚藍的閃爍引起了人們的注意，宴會上的年輕人對這突然的變化紛紛表示稱讚。
就像魔法一樣。太美妙了。
她回到了休息室，也目睹了這場人造自然的旋風，
一場華麗的鬧劇。
她尚且記得這些花朵初次被吹落的景象，想到：
她已經受夠"回憶"起那些事物了。
在過去的許多個小時中，她對這兒的邊界進行了一番研究。
窗戶上了鎖，陽臺的落地窗門被封了起來，通風口也被用螺絲固定著。
她對現狀抱持的唯一疑惑是：
"這些去路被堵住——是因為那群人堵住了去路，還是因為我被困在這裡了？"
她發現，暗喻與情感總會動搖少女們的心靈。
現實並不容易辨別清楚。
而當她在摸遍、戳遍、翻遍、繞遍這地方後，
她開始去找熟悉的來賓與朋友們一起閒話家常。
"最近的天氣……"
"國王他……"
"你知道嗎，上禮拜……"
枯燥乏味，而且毫無營養。
雖然有提問從她的嘴中蹦出來，卻只會被懷疑一番，甚至完全被他們忽視。
就像那些疑問從未被問出口——好像她根本就沒有說過話一樣。
她最想知道的情報——機械工程、科技與發展——
顯然在這些來賓身上是套不出來的。
就在她變得越來越沮喪的時候，她選擇在一旁聆聽對話，終於聽見：
"它現在可不止是個泥球了。我聽說我們很快就能夠完成地球化呢。"
她對那個話題發問……但仍舊沒得到任何回應。
不過有這條資訊就差不多足夠了，所以她再次進入走廊。
如今她佇立在那裡，靜靜觀望著那場風暴，將自己與其聯想。
她輕步走過她的未婚夫身旁。他見到她，對她露出一絲微笑。
他打招呼道，"拉薇妮雅，你回來啦。"而她凝視著他的西裝衣領。
他對此未察覺分毫。
演員們總是依照同一種方式演出。
何事脫穎而出，何事不同尋常——全都從未被人們所在意。
她的行為越來越大膽，但他們依舊遵照自己的習慣行動。
因為得保持形象，對吧？
她決定直截了當地問出那長久以來壓迫在她心頭的問題。
"人造的世界……它難道不是由玻璃製造的嗎？"
"……呃？你在說什……？當然不是啊，拉薇妮雅。這可不是個玩笑。"
她睜大了眼睛，瞳孔收縮。
在所有的疑問中，就只有這個得到了回應。
多納文的視線越過她的肩頭，仿佛望著牆後更遙遠的地方。他說：
"不管怎樣，這不是很令人喜愛嗎？幾乎就像你一樣惹人憐愛……"
但她沒有作出任何回應。
他的回答間接印證了少女的假設，因此她下定了決心。
就在空中以螺旋狀飛舞的花瓣要平靜下來的時候，
她走向擺滿食物的長桌，駐足於麵包。
多納文滔滔不絕地說著。
"我聽說，他們塑造的世界最終會像是錯綜蔓延的山谷，沒有盡頭。
現在，它就只是一片荒地。這是個概念，你明白嗎？"
她靜靜聆聽，將手搭在一個握柄上。
"但是對於那些擁有足夠能力包攬下來一塊地的人來說，這絕對是件十分開心的事。
你想像一下那片新土地的可能性，拉薇妮雅。"
她歎了一口氣。又是次不會有任何結果的嘗試。
少女的手握住那精巧而光滑的木頭。
她靈巧地轉過身，朝正等待著她的未婚夫邁出步子，
將自己的手甩向他的頭頸。
麵包刀的鋸齒止於他的皮膚。
不帶任何情感——甚至未含敵意的火花——她一言不發地刺穿了這男孩的喉嚨，
貼近凝視著將要迸發而出的事物。
A windstorm scatters petals around terrain behind the walls.
Glints of white and sapphire catch the eye, and the youths of the party speak of the change favorably.
Like magic. Wonderful.
She comes back into the lounge and witnesses the swirl of artificial nature,
the splendor of a farce.
She remembers the first time those flowers were scattered and thinks:
she’s rather had enough of "remembering".
During the past several hours, she’s tested the boundaries.
The windows were locked, the patio doors were barred, and the ventilation ducts were bolted.
The question she had to all this was:
"Are these shut because people shut them, or because I’m trapped in here?"
Metaphor and emotion often swayed the hearts of young girls, she found.
It was difficult to determine the reality.
When she’d had enough of poking, prodding, turning things over, and wandering,
she began to prattle on with other guests she knew to be acquaintances or friends.
"The weather..."
"The King..."
"You know, the week before..."
Tedious, and uninformative too.
Certain lines of questions were met with incredulity or with nothing at all,
as if the questions hadn’t been asked—as if she hadn’t spoken.
What she mainly wanted to know about—engineering, technology, progress—
seemed to especially draw out nothing from the other guests.
With her frustration growing, she took to listening in instead, and eventually heard:
"It’s little more than a globe of dirt now. We’ll terraform it soon, I’m told."
And asking about that... led nowhere as well.
That was quite enough to know, however, and so she entered the lounge again.
She stands in it now, watching the storm, and relating to it.
The girl steps past the fiancé, who smiles at her presence.
He greets her with, "Lavinia, you’re back," and she rests her gaze on his lapel.
He takes no particular notice of this.
The players always seem to act in such a way.
What stands out, what’s unusual, is given no mind.
Bolder and bolder she’s gotten, but they remain always steadfast to their routines.
To maintain the image, correct?
She decides to ask, outright, one question she burns to have answered.
"The man-made world... it isn’t made of glass?"
"...Hm? What on...? Of course not, Lavinia. It’s not a bauble."
Her eye goes wide. Her pupil constricts.
Of all the things, that had been it.
Donovan looks over her shoulder and through the walls, saying,
"At any rate, isn’t it lovely? Almost as lovely as you..."
But she doesn’t reply.
Recognizing his answer as confirmation, she settles on a decision.
As the spiral of flowers beyond flow almost serenely through the air,
she moves to the table of foodstuffs, and stops before the breads.
Donovan continues.
"I’m told the world they』ve made will have shows like this across sprawling, endless valleys.
Right now, it’s only barren. A concept, you know?"
She stops her hand over a handle, listening.
"But it』ll surely be a delight in time, for those who can afford a spot on it.
And think of the potential, Lavinia."
She exhales. It’s been another fruitless trip.
Her hand closes on fine, smoothed wood.
She turns swiftly and steps to the awaiting husband,
swinging her hand out toward his neck.
The bread knife’s teeth stop in his skin.
Without feeling—without even a spark of animosity—she wordlessly cuts across the boy’s throat,
and watches closely to see what comes out.
解鎖條件：採用咲彌通過Black Territory
一陣狂風將牆後原野中的花瓣吹落一地。
純白與蔚藍的閃爍引起了人們的注意，宴會上的年輕人對這突然的變化紛紛表示稱讚。
就像魔法一樣。太美妙了。
她回到了休息室，也目睹了這場人造自然的旋風，
一場華麗的鬧劇。
她尚且記得這些花朵初次被吹落的景象，想到：
她已經受夠"回憶"起那些事物了。
在過去的許多個小時中，她對這兒的邊界進行了一番研究。
窗戶上了鎖，陽臺的落地窗門被封了起來，通風口也被用螺絲固定著。
她對現狀抱持的唯一疑惑是：
"這些去路被堵住——是因為那群人堵住了去路，還是因為我被困在這裡了？"
她發現，暗喻與情感總會動搖少女們的心靈。
現實並不容易辨別清楚。
而當她在摸遍、戳遍、翻遍、繞遍這地方後，
她開始去找熟悉的來賓與朋友們一起閒話家常。
"最近的天氣……"
"國王他……"
"你知道嗎，上禮拜……"
枯燥乏味，而且毫無營養。
雖然有提問從她的嘴中蹦出來，卻只會被懷疑一番，甚至完全被他們忽視。
就像那些疑問從未被問出口——好像她根本就沒有說過話一樣。
她最想知道的情報——機械工程、科技與發展——
顯然在這些來賓身上是套不出來的。
就在她變得越來越沮喪的時候，她選擇在一旁聆聽對話，終於聽見：
"它現在可不止是個泥球了。我聽說我們很快就能夠完成地球化呢。"
她對那個話題發問……但仍舊沒得到任何回應。
不過有這條資訊就差不多足夠了，所以她再次進入走廊。
如今她佇立在那裡，靜靜觀望著那場風暴，將自己與其聯想。
她輕步走過她的未婚夫身旁。他見到她，對她露出一絲微笑。
他打招呼道，"拉薇妮雅，你回來啦。"而她凝視著他的西裝衣領。
他對此未察覺分毫。
演員們總是依照同一種方式演出。
何事脫穎而出，何事不同尋常——全都從未被人們所在意。
她的行為越來越大膽，但他們依舊遵照自己的習慣行動。
因為得保持形象，對吧？
她決定直截了當地問出那長久以來壓迫在她心頭的問題。
"人造的世界……它難道不是由玻璃製造的嗎？"
"……呃？你在說什……？當然不是啊，拉薇妮雅。這可不是個玩笑。"
她睜大了眼睛，瞳孔收縮。
在所有的疑問中，就只有這個得到了回應。
多納文的視線越過她的肩頭，仿佛望著牆後更遙遠的地方。他說：
"不管怎樣，這不是很令人喜愛嗎？幾乎就像你一樣惹人憐愛……"
但她沒有作出任何回應。
他的回答間接印證了少女的假設，因此她下定了決心。
就在空中以螺旋狀飛舞的花瓣要平靜下來的時候，
她走向擺滿食物的長桌，駐足於麵包。
多納文滔滔不絕地說著。
"我聽說，他們塑造的世界最終會像是錯綜蔓延的山谷，沒有盡頭。
現在，它就只是一片荒地。這是個概念，你明白嗎？"
她靜靜聆聽，將手搭在一個握柄上。
"但是對於那些擁有足夠能力包攬下來一塊地的人來說，這絕對是件十分開心的事。
你想像一下那片新土地的可能性，拉薇妮雅。"
她歎了一口氣。又是次不會有任何結果的嘗試。
少女的手握住那精巧而光滑的木頭。
她靈巧地轉過身，朝正等待著她的未婚夫邁出步子，
將自己的手甩向他的頭頸。
麵包刀的鋸齒止於他的皮膚。
不帶任何情感——甚至未含敵意的火花——她一言不發地刺穿了這男孩的喉嚨，
貼近凝視著將要迸發而出的事物。
A windstorm scatters petals around terrain behind the walls.
Glints of white and sapphire catch the eye, and the youths of the party speak of the change favorably.
Like magic. Wonderful.
She comes back into the lounge and witnesses the swirl of artificial nature,
the splendor of a farce.
She remembers the first time those flowers were scattered and thinks:
she’s rather had enough of "remembering".
During the past several hours, she’s tested the boundaries.
The windows were locked, the patio doors were barred, and the ventilation ducts were bolted.
The question she had to all this was:
"Are these shut because people shut them, or because I’m trapped in here?"
Metaphor and emotion often swayed the hearts of young girls, she found.
It was difficult to determine the reality.
When she’d had enough of poking, prodding, turning things over, and wandering,
she began to prattle on with other guests she knew to be acquaintances or friends.
"The weather..."
"The King..."
"You know, the week before..."
Tedious, and uninformative too.
Certain lines of questions were met with incredulity or with nothing at all,
as if the questions hadn’t been asked—as if she hadn’t spoken.
What she mainly wanted to know about—engineering, technology, progress—
seemed to especially draw out nothing from the other guests.
With her frustration growing, she took to listening in instead, and eventually heard:
"It’s little more than a globe of dirt now. We’ll terraform it soon, I’m told."
And asking about that... led nowhere as well.
That was quite enough to know, however, and so she entered the lounge again.
She stands in it now, watching the storm, and relating to it.
The girl steps past the fiancé, who smiles at her presence.
He greets her with, "Lavinia, you’re back," and she rests her gaze on his lapel.
He takes no particular notice of this.
The players always seem to act in such a way.
What stands out, what’s unusual, is given no mind.
Bolder and bolder she’s gotten, but they remain always steadfast to their routines.
To maintain the image, correct?
She decides to ask, outright, one question she burns to have answered.
"The man-made world... it isn’t made of glass?"
"...Hm? What on...? Of course not, Lavinia. It’s not a bauble."
Her eye goes wide. Her pupil constricts.
Of all the things, that had been it.
Donovan looks over her shoulder and through the walls, saying,
"At any rate, isn’t it lovely? Almost as lovely as you..."
But she doesn’t reply.
Recognizing his answer as confirmation, she settles on a decision.
As the spiral of flowers beyond flow almost serenely through the air,
she moves to the table of foodstuffs, and stops before the breads.
Donovan continues.
"I’m told the world they』ve made will have shows like this across sprawling, endless valleys.
Right now, it’s only barren. A concept, you know?"
She stops her hand over a handle, listening.
"But it』ll surely be a delight in time, for those who can afford a spot on it.
And think of the potential, Lavinia."
She exhales. It’s been another fruitless trip.
Her hand closes on fine, smoothed wood.
She turns swiftly and steps to the awaiting husband,
swinging her hand out toward his neck.
The bread knife’s teeth stop in his skin.
Without feeling—without even a spark of animosity—she wordlessly cuts across the boy’s throat,
and watches closely to see what comes out.
3-4
解鎖條件：採用咲彌通過Cyaegha
這東西不是血。
這東西什麼都不是。
這位紳士的喉嚨以一種很糟糕的方式被割了開來……但是這段記憶之中缺少了“可怕”的概念。
與其說這是一幕破碎，殘忍的畫面，他的脖子現在看來更像是佈滿皺褶又遭撕裂的紙張。
裡頭充斥的不是“陰影”，是“負空間”：他的身體裏存在著整一片虛空。
傷口的邊隙上閃爍著星星點點的微弱白光，亮晶晶的碎片沿著她用來刺穿他的刀刃滑落下來，
浮於半空……
單純地懸掛於空氣之中。
多納文無法理解這一刻發生的事。大多數的來賓也因她的舉動而感到畏懼萬分。
人們倒在地上，幾位女士昏了過去，多納文則伸手去摸自己的脖子。
幾個男人撲向她，將她的前臂拉到後方，並用力勒住她的脖子。
少女緊握著手中的麵包刀，呆滯的表情映入丈夫迷茫的眼神。
雖然她並未對賓客的壓制行動作出任何掙扎，但她注意到在多納文的身後，
有名女孩陷入了歇斯底里的恐慌。她喉嚨深處爆發出的聲音愈加扭曲，響度如同波浪般起伏，
於空氣中炸裂開來。此刻，這段回憶已然破碎。
事情原本不該這樣發展。就算再怎麼經歷時變，一段記憶也不該成為這種模樣。
一名妻子，在如此安逸的時刻，無緣無故地突然出手傷害了自己的丈夫……
她曾希望引起所有人的注意力。而現在看來，她的願望已經達成了。
雖然房間裏有少數的人面對這股騷動仍心如止水——甚至有些人就像搞丟了人臉，
沒法做出表情一樣——
但是這段記憶的確是第一次經歷了如此巨大的變化。至少在這一點上，她成功了。
這片世界開始崩毀，裂痕顯現於她所能看見的任何一個角落。
其後出現的現實事物，看上去像要因這段碎裂的記憶而出現褶皺一般。
她自言自語道：“比起讓這整串世界成為度假勝地……這些事物肯定有更高的利用價值。”
她放開了那把麵包刀，見那東西就這樣禁止於原地無法移動，歎了口氣。
“這可不是在偷看‘記憶’、‘回聲’、‘倒影’——值得一提，也絕對不是‘玻璃’……”
房間開始漸漸地收縮。
“又是場毫無價值的夢。”
這顆星球隨之分裂了。
當那片映射被摧毀後，四周飛速閃爍著白色的渾濁霧影。
那片回憶——那片玻璃中蘊含的所有聲響化作急流一湧而出。
她閉上雙眼，站在原地，耐心等待周圍混亂的光線與雜音消散。
過後，她張開雙眼，映入眼簾的虛空中只剩下飄散的微弱螢光。
她的心情無比複雜。
在又一陣絢麗的痛苦感消散後，她再次見到了她所最為熟悉，卻最無法摸透真相的世界：
純白與廢墟的世界。由記憶所構建而成——Arcaea的領域。
“我其實挺喜歡這一片，”，她喃喃自語道，注視著正於她手掌之上轉動的碎片，
“但它和這世界的誕生無關。况且它現在也只是個空殼了。唉……如果我可以觀看它們，
也請使我能够把它們趕出我的腦袋吧……”
她放手那片玻璃，沒有再去看一眼。碎片回到了當初她找尋到它的地方：從地面流過的一條銳利，
閃爍的河流。這名為咲彌的少女將目光投送至遠處狹長寬廣的地平線，
一邊無意識地摸著嘴唇，向前邁著步子，一邊回想著方才記憶中的場景，
將其蘊藏的價值與數千個同類進行著比較。
It isn't blood.
It isn't anything.
The gentleman's throat is cut in what should be an awful way... but the memory lacks a concept of
what "awful" would be. Instead of a shredded, vicious image, his neck now looks akin to torn and
crumpled paper. Inside is not "shadow" but "negative space": a void inside his body. The edges of
the wound flicker weakly with some white light, and off the blade of the knife she'd used to strike
him, vibrant shards float aloft... simply hanging in the air.
And Donovan can't comprehend it. Many of the patrons, too, are in awe and horror of her act.
People fall, women faint, and Donovan reaches for his neck. Some men leap for her, pull back her
forearm and hold her at her neck. She grips the knife tightly, and with a dull expression stares into
the husband's bewildered eyes.
While she hardly struggles with the guests apprehending her, she spots behind Donovan a girl in
absolute hysterics on the floor. The sound of her voice becomes increasingly distorted, beginning
to crackle and fluctuate in volume. Already, then: the memory has broken.
This wasn’t how it went. Even the most time-changed memories could not be altered so.
For a wife to, unprompted, attack her husband this way during a moment of peace...
She’d hoped to provoke a reaction, and is thus satisfied by this result. Although a few of the other
people in the room are unfazed by the commotion, and some even seem to have lost their faces
entirely, alteration of a memory to this extent is a veritable first. This, at least, has been a success.
The world begins to crack, fractures appearing wherever she can see.
Reality afterward looks almost wrinkled from it.
She says to herself, "Making entire worlds for vacation... Surely there would be better uses for that."
She lets go of the bread knife and sighs, seeing how it can’t move from the space where she’d
abandoned it.
"Not a peep about 『memory』, 『echoes』, 『reflections』—importantly, not 『glass』..."
The room constricts.
"This was another worthless dream."
The planet divides.
White blears and obscures, briefly flashing everywhere as the image is demolished. In a rush of
every remembered sound contained in that recollection, in that slip of glass, she stands with her
eye shut until luminescence and noise fade. She opens her eye to faintly glittering empty space,
her mind twists, and after another wave of effulgent pain she sees again the world with which she
is both most familiar with, and most confounded by:
The world of white and ruins. The memory-shaped realm of Arcaea.
"I’d had a good feeling about this one," she mumbles, watching the rotation of a shard just above
her palm. "But it wasn’t responsible for this world’s creation, and it was almost empty to boot.
Hmph. If I can watch them, let me remove them too..."
She dismisses the glass, not looking as it returns to the space where she’d found it: a glinting,
sharpened river flowing above the ground. The girl named Saya stares off into the plain horizon,
stepping forth while touching her lip absently, and reviewing the events of the recent memory,
comparing them all to the wealth of a thousand others.
解鎖條件：採用咲彌通過Cyaegha
這東西不是血。
這東西什麼都不是。
這位紳士的喉嚨以一種很糟糕的方式被割了開來……但是這段記憶之中缺少了“可怕”的概念。
與其說這是一幕破碎，殘忍的畫面，他的脖子現在看來更像是佈滿皺褶又遭撕裂的紙張。
裡頭充斥的不是“陰影”，是“負空間”：他的身體裏存在著整一片虛空。
傷口的邊隙上閃爍著星星點點的微弱白光，亮晶晶的碎片沿著她用來刺穿他的刀刃滑落下來，
浮於半空……
單純地懸掛於空氣之中。
多納文無法理解這一刻發生的事。大多數的來賓也因她的舉動而感到畏懼萬分。
人們倒在地上，幾位女士昏了過去，多納文則伸手去摸自己的脖子。
幾個男人撲向她，將她的前臂拉到後方，並用力勒住她的脖子。
少女緊握著手中的麵包刀，呆滯的表情映入丈夫迷茫的眼神。
雖然她並未對賓客的壓制行動作出任何掙扎，但她注意到在多納文的身後，
有名女孩陷入了歇斯底里的恐慌。她喉嚨深處爆發出的聲音愈加扭曲，響度如同波浪般起伏，
於空氣中炸裂開來。此刻，這段回憶已然破碎。
事情原本不該這樣發展。就算再怎麼經歷時變，一段記憶也不該成為這種模樣。
一名妻子，在如此安逸的時刻，無緣無故地突然出手傷害了自己的丈夫……
她曾希望引起所有人的注意力。而現在看來，她的願望已經達成了。
雖然房間裏有少數的人面對這股騷動仍心如止水——甚至有些人就像搞丟了人臉，
沒法做出表情一樣——
但是這段記憶的確是第一次經歷了如此巨大的變化。至少在這一點上，她成功了。
這片世界開始崩毀，裂痕顯現於她所能看見的任何一個角落。
其後出現的現實事物，看上去像要因這段碎裂的記憶而出現褶皺一般。
她自言自語道：“比起讓這整串世界成為度假勝地……這些事物肯定有更高的利用價值。”
她放開了那把麵包刀，見那東西就這樣禁止於原地無法移動，歎了口氣。
“這可不是在偷看‘記憶’、‘回聲’、‘倒影’——值得一提，也絕對不是‘玻璃’……”
房間開始漸漸地收縮。
“又是場毫無價值的夢。”
這顆星球隨之分裂了。
當那片映射被摧毀後，四周飛速閃爍著白色的渾濁霧影。
那片回憶——那片玻璃中蘊含的所有聲響化作急流一湧而出。
她閉上雙眼，站在原地，耐心等待周圍混亂的光線與雜音消散。
過後，她張開雙眼，映入眼簾的虛空中只剩下飄散的微弱螢光。
她的心情無比複雜。
在又一陣絢麗的痛苦感消散後，她再次見到了她所最為熟悉，卻最無法摸透真相的世界：
純白與廢墟的世界。由記憶所構建而成——Arcaea的領域。
“我其實挺喜歡這一片，”，她喃喃自語道，注視著正於她手掌之上轉動的碎片，
“但它和這世界的誕生無關。况且它現在也只是個空殼了。唉……如果我可以觀看它們，
也請使我能够把它們趕出我的腦袋吧……”
她放手那片玻璃，沒有再去看一眼。碎片回到了當初她找尋到它的地方：從地面流過的一條銳利，
閃爍的河流。這名為咲彌的少女將目光投送至遠處狹長寬廣的地平線，
一邊無意識地摸著嘴唇，向前邁著步子，一邊回想著方才記憶中的場景，
將其蘊藏的價值與數千個同類進行著比較。
It isn’t blood.
It isn’t anything.
The gentleman’s throat is cut in what should be an awful way... but the memory lacks a concept of
what "awful" would be. Instead of a shredded, vicious image, his neck now looks akin to torn and
crumpled paper. Inside is not "shadow" but "negative space": a void inside his body. The edges of
the wound flicker weakly with some white light, and off the blade of the knife she’d used to strike
him, vibrant shards float aloft... simply hanging in the air.
And Donovan can’t comprehend it. Many of the patrons, too, are in awe and horror of her act.
People fall, women faint, and Donovan reaches for his neck. Some men leap for her, pull back her
forearm and hold her at her neck. She grips the knife tightly, and with a dull expression stares into
the husband’s bewildered eyes.
While she hardly struggles with the guests apprehending her, she spots behind Donovan a girl in
absolute hysterics on the floor. The sound of her voice becomes increasingly distorted, beginning
to crackle and fluctuate in volume. Already, then: the memory has broken.
This wasn’t how it went. Even the most time-changed memories could not be altered so.
For a wife to, unprompted, attack her husband this way during a moment of peace...
She’d hoped to provoke a reaction, and is thus satisfied by this result. Although a few of the other
people in the room are unfazed by the commotion, and some even seem to have lost their faces
entirely, alteration of a memory to this extent is a veritable first. This, at least, has been a success.
The world begins to crack, fractures appearing wherever she can see.
Reality afterward looks almost wrinkled from it.
She says to herself, "Making entire worlds for vacation... Surely there would be better uses for that."
She lets go of the bread knife and sighs, seeing how it can’t move from the space where she’d
abandoned it.
"Not a peep about 『memory』, 『echoes』, 『reflections』—importantly, not 『glass』..."
The room constricts.
"This was another worthless dream."
The planet divides.
White blears and obscures, briefly flashing everywhere as the image is demolished. In a rush of
every remembered sound contained in that recollection, in that slip of glass, she stands with her
eye shut until luminescence and noise fade. She opens her eye to faintly glittering empty space,
her mind twists, and after another wave of effulgent pain she sees again the world with which she
is both most familiar with, and most confounded by:
The world of white and ruins. The memory-shaped realm of Arcaea.
"I’d had a good feeling about this one," she mumbles, watching the rotation of a shard just above
her palm. "But it wasn’t responsible for this world’s creation, and it was almost empty to boot.
Hmph. If I can watch them, let me remove them too..."
She dismisses the glass, not looking as it returns to the space where she’d found it: a glinting,
sharpened river flowing above the ground. The girl named Saya stares off into the plain horizon,
stepping forth while touching her lip absently, and reviewing the events of the recent memory,
comparing them all to the wealth of a thousand others.
3-5
解鎖條件：採用咲彌通過Antithese
又一次的蘇醒，同時也是她的第一次。
任何人於這回憶的世界中蘇醒後，腦中記憶都是一片空白。她也不例外。
不過，當光線映入她的瞳孔時，她感受到了不同尋常的事物。
她的心跳首當其衝地加快；激情四射，漸漸湧出的失落感讓她近乎咆哮起來。
她的手緊抓著覆蓋腹部的衣服，心想自己的耳朵可能要被震聾。
她的雙眼不自覺地眯起來，而她這才意識到自己僅擁有一隻眼睛。她的面龐感受到了這一切。
“什……？”
她咳嗽幾聲，然後撐起身子。
隔著手套，她觸摸到一種可以稱得上軟綿綿的物質，正牢牢固定於她右眼的所在處。
她才發現自己帶著手套。朝自己的身體看去後，她不禁疑惑起自己為何會穿著這些衣服。
接著，她不禁疑惑起自己為何知道衣服是什麼東西。
她方才背靠著一面牆睡覺。經過觀察，她發現自己的四周是另外三堵牆，殘破得不堪入目。
它們將她圍在這沒有出路的空間中。抬起頭後，少女見這裡並沒有屋頂，
卻緊接著對自己為什麼會覺得上頭理應有個屋頂一事而感到納悶。事實上，
她察覺到自己身在何處……隱約地。她沿著自己曾靠在上頭睡覺的牆走著，
直到發現一處她能够翻越過去的地方。在清理那些磚塊時，她發現它們潔白無瑕。
此時，她抬頭仰望，發現不僅這面牆是白色的——整個世界都是一片純白。
那是片一望無際的古老，潰敗的人類社會遺址，也可說成是多個文明的仿製品。
這太詭異了……更詭異的是：她竟然會覺得這一切很詭異。這又是為什麼？
在她機緣巧合地發現那些反光的玻璃之前，她竟早已為自己現時所見的事物，以及她的身份，
給予了數十種推測。即使是她如今孤身一人——而且連自己的名字都不知道——的事實，
也為她闡述了可能性極高的推斷。
並且，隨著時間流逝，她發現的許多線索都指向她腦海中某一項特定的推測。
她天生具有强烈的自信心與好奇心。這純白的世界只有著無盡的問題，卻從未出現過答案。
幾天過去了，那些廢墟中沒有答案顯現。幾周過去了，這些玻璃內也沒有答案顯現。
可以肯定的是，這世界充斥著玻璃、它們不斷地投射著其它形形色色的，
更具生機的場所，仿佛在借此奚落著她。源於某種真實事物的回聲與痕迹，或者說是這世界本身，
遍佈著人類發明的仿製品。在這兩個月裏（雖然真正的時間可能更長），
她覺得自己已經看了足够多的畫面以堅信某個想法。
這一座破舊的階梯離她蘇醒的地點已有一段距離。
伫立於階梯頂端的少女，望向了天空中那起伏不平的截斷部分：
由數以百計的Arcaea所組建而成，那是一扇不通向任何地方的殘破窗戶。
這一刻，少女開始對自己的猜測深信不疑。她打賭自己的推理便是真相。
但光憑這點還不够——根本不可能足够。這可不是光靠猜測就能確定下來的事情。
所以她在心中鄭重誓言道：這整片領域就是一個謎團，不會講述任何事情，
只會給出零星線索——所以她將解决這謎題，
找出對應的理由來。作為這領域中唯一的活物，這仿佛成為了她第一個職責。
而就在她完全接納Arcaea的時候……
Arcaea也完全接納了她……
……作為一間寬廣且看似無邊無際的檔案室——不僅等待著被閱讀，
更等待著某個人來親身經歷它們。
Another awakening, and her first.
Each one awakens in the world of memories with nothing in her head. She is no exception.
However, as light filters through her cornea the sensations that grip her are unusual. Her heart
stirs first, passionate, and she almost snarls at the building frustration. She grips the clothes over
her stomach, and thinks her ears might be deafened. Her eye squints involuntarily, and she
realizes with that that she only has a single eye rather than two. She feels around her face.
"Wha...?"
She coughs, and pushes herself up. What she felt through her glove was something almost soft,
surrounding something very solid in the place of her right eye. She realizes she's wearing gloves.
Looking over her body, she wonders why she's wearing these clothes.
She wonders next why she knows what clothes are at all.
She had been sleeping against a wall, and upon an inspection of her surroundings sees that there
are three others to make a four-cornered place around her, and every one of them is in extreme
disrepair. Looking up she sees that there's no roof, and questions why it is she'd expected to find
one in the first place. In fact, she recognizes where she is... vaguely. She trudges along the wall she'd
slept against until she finds one she can step over. As she clears the bricks, she notices that they are
entirely white. Looking up, she sees that it isn't only this wall, but the entire world that's white.
It is an infinite landscape of an old, defeated, human society, or rather a pastiche of several
societies. It's bizarre... Moreover: it is bizarre she finds it bizarre. Why?
Before she even stumbles upon any reflective glass, she has already bet on tens of theories behind
what she's seeing, and who she is. Even that she is alone, and that she doesn't know her name,
tells her much about the potential truth.
And, over time, she finds more reason for one theory in particular.
She was born with conviction and curiosity. The world of white presents questions but no answers.
Days pass, and there are no answers within the ruins. Weeks pass, and there are no answers within
the glass. Indeed, the world is full of glass, taunting always with views of other, more vivid and
varied places. Echoes, imprints of something real, exactly the world itself, so full of what must be
copies of human invention. After two months, though it could be more, she feels she has seen
enough to believe something, and with confidence.
While atop a broken stairway someplace far away now from where she'd awakened some time
ago, she gazes at an undulating and segmented portion of the sky: a seemingly broken window to
nothing, crafted from over a hundred shards of Arcaea. She becomes sure of herself in this
moment. She can bet her judgment is the truth.
But it's not enough, and never enough. It can't be settled with speculation.
So she vows: this realm is a mystery, telling nothing and offering little, so she will solve it and find
its reason. As the only being of this realm, it seems, this will be her first duty.
And as she fully accepts the Arcaea...
So too do the Arcaea fully accept her...
...as a vast and seemingly endless archive, not only to be read, but to be lived through.
解鎖條件：採用咲彌通過Vicious Heroism
“在那些地方，人類可以成為上帝。”
這是她得出的結論。
眼中有花朵綻放的少女在腦中合上了記憶之書。這算不上完全毫無意義——
頂多是一大半毫無意義罷了。
她剛開始時曾感十分沮喪：她所造訪的那個世界幾乎是被她立即斷定為不具有任何價值，
但那看似無意義之處卻向她展示出人類重要的潜力。不過……照目前來看……這還不是很重要。
勝過關於“如何”的假設，有關“原因”的假設更加迫使她繼續前行。
這是她的又一場旅程，穿越這世界內大量的廢墟，懷抱著沒有根據的希望，只為找尋答案，
或者至少找到一條打了擦邊球的線索。這向來都是使她走下去的重要動力。
但如今，她的第二個目標浮現了出來——大約在她目睹過兩百段回憶之後。
“似乎是找不到任何可能用於重建的新東西了。”
她低語道，從近處稀疏的玻璃溪流中召喚過來一片碎片，
“但我倒認為，哪怕它們有一點點價值都是件好事。”
這一片玻璃所散發的光芒吸引了她的目光，而少女也仔細地觀賞了它所帶來的過往景象，
心不在焉地咕噥道，“就快要到家了……”
她將碎片留於掌心，穿過一座對她而言極為熟悉的橋樑。
在她左手邊的是一片雜亂無章的廢墟，也許曾經是座都市；
她的右手邊則是混亂成堆的玻璃和石頭——相當於什麼都不存在。
她沿著這遙遠的路途前進，終於回到了她“出生”的場所，不去在意自己究竟走了多少步。
她花了她所需要花費的時間，抵達了有著四面坍塌牆壁的地方。
牆壁之中有著一顆閃閃發光的巨大水晶球——一個尚未完成的破碎球體，看著宛如碎裂的貝殼一般。
笑容、淚水、死亡與歡慶在它的表面不斷閃爍。
鮮花、曠野、沙漠、海洋……動物、人類、科技……
她並不知道自己是否能透過拼凑回憶來重建一個世界。
她甚至不清楚自己能不能就靠將它們以如此形式聚於一處，便讓它們“連結”在一起……
但她想要嘗試一下。
少女手上的新碎片所散發出的光芒使她微微眯起眼睛。“就讓我看看，
你能展示給我多少事物吧。”她大聲說道。
它打開一個通道，而少女也緩緩融入了這一段新時間中。
頃刻間，她看到了一個人造光芒充盈的世界，
幾乎無窮無盡地遍佈著衝破了夜空雲層的人造摩天大樓。
在大樓之間，暗色的車輛破空而過。一股令人不快的氣體湧入了她的肺部。
刺耳的譟音充斥了她的雙耳。
她擬造了一份人格，也擬造了一段過往——面對著這一切，她泰然自若。
數百個問題浮現於她的腦海，而她將會對其逐個進行解答。
無論將要付出何等的代價，也無論需要做什麼事情。
"In these other places, humans can act as gods."
That is what she learned.
The girl with a flower in her eye closes the book of that memory in her mind. It hadn’t been
completely worthless, only mostly.
It had frustrated her at first: the world she had visited was one she had quickly deemed frivolous,
but the frivolity revealed something important to her about the potential of mankind.
Still... for now... that wasn’t very important.
More than theories on "how", theories of "why" compelled her onward. This had been another of
her journeys out through the ruins of the world in a scattershot hope of discovering that answer,
or to even brush against it tangentially. That was always her focal drive, but a secondary one had
been made manifest after she’d witnessed about two hundred of the memories.
"It didn’t have anything new for a potential reconstruction," she whispers, beckoning a shard from
a nearby, sparse stream of glass, "but I suppose it’s good that it had some sort of value."
She lets the gleam of the new piece catch her eye, and she scrutinizes the vision of the past it
offers, muttering absently, "Almost home..."
She carries the fragment over her palm, crossing a bridge with which she’s become very familiar.
On her left is a haphazard pile of what once might have been cities, on her right is a chaotic mass
of glass and stone—recognizable as nothing. She marches the long way back to the place where
she was "born", uncaring of how many steps it takes.
She takes however long she needs to reach and stop before a place of four fallen walls, between
them an immense sphere of shimmering crystal—an unfinished sphere broken apart, like a cracked
shell. Smiles, tears, deaths, and celebrations flicker in and out its facets. Flowers, plains, deserts,
oceans... Animals, people, technology...
She doesn’t know if she can recreate a world by piecing together memories. She doesn’t even
know if she can truly "connect" them at all by gathering them together like this... But she can try.
She squints lightly to the gleam of the new piece she’s brought.
"Let’s see how much you can show me," she says aloud.
So it opens, and the girl fades into a new time. In short order, she sees a world brimful with
artificial glow, crowded by endless and nigh-infinite towers of man reaching through clouds of an
evening sky, and dark vehicles roaring through the air. An unpleasant atmosphere flows into her
lungs. Cacophony fills her ears. As she assumes an identity, assumes a new past, she looks on,
unmoved. A hundred questions rise in her mind... She will have them answered. No matter what
that takes, no matter what needs to be done.
3-6
前置條件：完成3-5
解鎖條件：採用咲彌通過Vicious Heroism
“在那些地方，人類可以成為上帝。”
這是她得出的結論。
眼中有花朵綻放的少女在腦中合上了記憶之書。這算不上完全毫無意義——
頂多是一大半毫無意義罷了。
她剛開始時曾感十分沮喪：她所造訪的那個世界幾乎是被她立即斷定為不具有任何價值，
但那看似無意義之處卻向她展示出人類重要的潜力。不過……照目前來看……這還不是很重要。
勝過關於“如何”的假設，有關“原因”的假設更加迫使她繼續前行。
這是她的又一場旅程，穿越這世界內大量的廢墟，懷抱著沒有根據的希望，只為找尋答案，
或者至少找到一條打了擦邊球的線索。這向來都是使她走下去的重要動力。
但如今，她的第二個目標浮現了出來——大約在她目睹過兩百段回憶之後。
“似乎是找不到任何可能用於重建的新東西了。”
她低語道，從近處稀疏的玻璃溪流中召喚過來一片碎片，
“但我倒認為，哪怕它們有一點點價值都是件好事。”
這一片玻璃所散發的光芒吸引了她的目光，而少女也仔細地觀賞了它所帶來的過往景象，
心不在焉地咕噥道，“就快要到家了……”
她將碎片留於掌心，穿過一座對她而言極為熟悉的橋樑。
在她左手邊的是一片雜亂無章的廢墟，也許曾經是座都市；
她的右手邊則是混亂成堆的玻璃和石頭——相當於什麼都不存在。
她沿著這遙遠的路途前進，終於回到了她“出生”的場所，不去在意自己究竟走了多少步。
她花了她所需要花費的時間，抵達了有著四面坍塌牆壁的地方。
牆壁之中有著一顆閃閃發光的巨大水晶球——一個尚未完成的破碎球體，看著宛如碎裂的貝殼一般。
笑容、淚水、死亡與歡慶在它的表面不斷閃爍。
鮮花、曠野、沙漠、海洋……動物、人類、科技……
她並不知道自己是否能透過拼凑回憶來重建一個世界。
她甚至不清楚自己能不能就靠將它們以如此形式聚於一處，便讓它們“連結”在一起……
但她想要嘗試一下。
少女手上的新碎片所散發出的光芒使她微微眯起眼睛。“就讓我看看，
你能展示給我多少事物吧。”她大聲說道。
它打開一個通道，而少女也緩緩融入了這一段新時間中。
頃刻間，她看到了一個人造光芒充盈的世界，
幾乎無窮無盡地遍佈著衝破了夜空雲層的人造摩天大樓。
在大樓之間，暗色的車輛破空而過。一股令人不快的氣體湧入了她的肺部。
刺耳的譟音充斥了她的雙耳。
她擬造了一份人格，也擬造了一段過往——面對著這一切，她泰然自若。
數百個問題浮現於她的腦海，而她將會對其逐個進行解答。
無論將要付出何等的代價，也無論需要做什麼事情。
"In these other places, humans can act as gods."
That is what she learned.
The girl with a flower in her eye closes the book of that memory in her mind. It hadn’t been
completely worthless, only mostly.
It had frustrated her at first: the world she had visited was one she had quickly deemed frivolous,
but the frivolity revealed something important to her about the potential of mankind.
Still... for now... that wasn’t very important.
More than theories on "how", theories of "why" compelled her onward. This had been another of
her journeys out through the ruins of the world in a scattershot hope of discovering that answer,
or to even brush against it tangentially. That was always her focal drive, but a secondary one had
been made manifest after she’d witnessed about two hundred of the memories.
"It didn’t have anything new for a potential reconstruction," she whispers, beckoning a shard from
a nearby, sparse stream of glass, "but I suppose it’s good that it had some sort of value."
She lets the gleam of the new piece catch her eye, and she scrutinizes the vision of the past it
offers, muttering absently, "Almost home..."
She carries the fragment over her palm, crossing a bridge with which she’s become very familiar.
On her left is a haphazard pile of what once might have been cities, on her right is a chaotic mass
of glass and stone—recognizable as nothing. She marches the long way back to the place where
she was "born", uncaring of how many steps it takes.
She takes however long she needs to reach and stop before a place of four fallen walls, between
them an immense sphere of shimmering crystal—an unfinished sphere broken apart, like a cracked
shell. Smiles, tears, deaths, and celebrations flicker in and out its facets. Flowers, plains, deserts,
oceans... Animals, people, technology...
She doesn’t know if she can recreate a world by piecing together memories. She doesn’t even
know if she can truly "connect" them at all by gathering them together like this... But she can try.
She squints lightly to the gleam of the new piece she’s brought.
"Let’s see how much you can show me," she says aloud.
So it opens, and the girl fades into a new time. In short order, she sees a world brimful with
artificial glow, crowded by endless and nigh-infinite towers of man reaching through clouds of an
evening sky, and dark vehicles roaring through the air. An unpleasant atmosphere flows into her
lungs. Cacophony fills her ears. As she assumes an identity, assumes a new past, she looks on,
unmoved. A hundred questions rise in her mind... She will have them answered. No matter what
that takes, no matter what needs to be done.