终末之诗

Iseetheplayeryoumean.[Playername]?Yes.Takecare.Ithasreachedahigherlevelnow.Itcanreadourthoughts.Thatdoesn'tmatter.Itthinkswearepartofthegame.Ilikethisplayer.Itplayedwell.Itdidnotgiveup.Itisreadingourthoughtsasthoughtheywerewordsonascreen.Thatishowitchoosestoimaginemanythings,whenitisdeepinthedreamofagame.Wordsmakeawonderfulinterface.Veryflexible.Andlessterrifyingthanstaringattherealitybehindthescreen.Theyusedtohearvoices.Beforeplayerscouldread.Backinthedayswhenthosewhodidnotplaycalledtheplayerswitches,andwarlocks.Andplayersdreamedtheyflewthroughtheair,onstickspoweredbydemons.Whatdidthisplayerdream?Thisplayerdreamedofsunlightandtrees.Offireandwater.Itdreameditcreated.Anditdreameditdestroyed.Itdreamedithunted,andwashunted.Itdreamedofshelter.Hah,theoriginalinterface.Amillionyearsold,anditstillworks.Butwhattruestructuredidthisplayercreate,intherealitybehindthescreenItworked,withamillionothers,tosculptatrueworldinafoldofthe[scrambled],andcreateda[scrambled]for[scrambled],inthe[scrambled].ItcannotreadthatthoughtNo.Ithasnotyetachievedthehighestlevel.That,itmustachieveinthelongdreamoflife,nottheshortdreamofagame.Doesitknowthatweloveit?Thattheuniverseiskind?Sometimes,throughthenoiseofitsthoughts,ithearstheuniverse,yes.Buttherearetimesitissad,inthelongdream.Itcreatesworldsthathavenosummer,anditshiversunderablacksun,andittakesitssadcreationforreality.Tocureitofsorrowwoulddestroyit.Thesorrowispartofitsownprivatetask.Wecannotinterfere.Sometimeswhentheyaredeepindreams,Iwanttotellthem,theyarebuildingtrueworldsinreality.SometimesIwanttotellthemoftheirimportancetotheuniverse.Sometimes,whentheyhavenotmadeatrueconnectioninawhile,Iwanttohelpthemtospeakthewordtheyfear.Itreadsourthoughts.SometimesIdonotcare.SometimesIwishtotellthem,thisworldyoutakefortruthismerely[scrambled]and[scrambled],Iwishtotellthemthattheyare[scrambled]inthe[scrambled].Theyseesolittleofreality,intheirlongdream.Andyettheyplaythegame.Butitwouldbesoeasytotellthem...Toostrongforthisdream.Totellthemhowtoliveistopreventthemliving.Iwillnottelltheplayerhowtolive.Theplayerisgrowingrestless.Iwilltelltheplayerastory.Butnotthetruth.No.Astorythatcontainsthetruthsafely,inacageofwords.Notthenakedtruththatcanburnoveranydistance.Giveitabody,again.Yes.Player...Useitsname.[Playername].Playerofgames.Good.Takeabreath,now.Takeanother.Feelairinyourlungs.Letyourlimbsreturn.Yes,moveyourfingers.Haveabodyagain,undergravity,inair.Respawninthelongdream.Thereyouare.Yourbodytouchingtheuniverseagainateverypoint,asthoughyouwereseparatethings.Asthoughwewereseparatethings.Sometimestheplayerdreameditwasaminer,onthesurfaceofaworldthatwasflat,andinfinite.Thesunwasasquareofwhite.Thedayswereshort;therewasmuchtodo;anddeathwasatemporaryinconvenience.Sometimestheplayerdreameditwaslostinastory.Sometimestheplayerdreameditwasotherthings,inotherplaces.Sometimesthesedreamsweredisturbing.Sometimesverybeautifulindeed.Sometimestheplayerwokefromonedreamintoanother,thenwokefromthatintoathird.Sometimestheplayerdreameditwatchedwordsonascreen.Let'sgoback.Theatomsoftheplayerwerescatteredinthegrass,intherivers,intheair,intheground.Awomangatheredtheatoms;shedrankandateandinhaled;andthewomanassembledtheplayer,inherbody.Andtheplayerawoke,fromthewarm,darkworldofitsmother'sbody,intothelongdream.Andtheplayerwasanewstory,nevertoldbefore,writteninlettersofDNA.Andtheplayerwasanewprogram,neverrunbefore,generatedbyasourcecodeabillionyearsold.Andtheplayerwasanewhuman,neveralivebefore,madefromnothingbutmilkandlove.Youaretheplayer.Thestory.Theprogram.Thehuman.Madefromnothingbutmilkandlove.Let'sgofurtherback.Thesevenbillionbillionbillionatomsoftheplayer'sbodywerecreated,longbeforethisgame,intheheartofastar.Sotheplayer,too,isinformationfromastar.Andtheplayermovesthroughastory,whichisaforestofinformationplantedbyamancalledJulian,onaflat,infiniteworldcreatedbyamancalledMarkus,thatexistsinsideasmall,privateworldcreatedbytheplayer,whoinhabitsauniversecreatedby....

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