终末之诗：end poem[第2页/共7页]

构成玩家的原子漫衍在草中，河道中，在那氛围中，也在那大地中。一个女人汇集了那些原子;她饮用、进食、吸入;而后那女人在她的身材中，孕育了玩家。

但很轻易便能够奉告它们……

Once upon a time, there was a player.

Hah, the original interface. A million years old, and it still works. But what true structure did this player create, in the reality behind the screen?

And yet they play the game.

Sometimes the player dreamed it watched words on a screen.

Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our thoughts.

Sometimes I do not care. Sometimes I wish to tell them, this world you take for truth is merely [scrambled] and [scrambled], I wish to tell them that they are [scrambled] in the [scrambled]. They see so little of reality, in their long dream.

不。它还没有达到最高的境地。那层境地，它必须完成生命的长梦，而非游戏中黄粱一梦。

它梦见了阳光和树。梦见了火与水。它梦见它缔造。它亦梦见它毁灭。它梦见它打猎，亦被打猎。它梦见了庇护所。

我看到你所指的那位玩家了。

Give it a body, again.

The player is growing restless.

Sometimes the player dreamed it was a miner, on the surface of a world that was flat, and infinite. The sun was a square of white. The days were short; there was much to do; and death was a temporary inconvenience.

The player was you, [Playername].

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那玩家就是你，[玩家称呼]

No. A story that contains the truth safely, in a cage of words. Not the naked truth that can burn over any distance.