傳送門沒有如同其他的任何一個傳送門一樣立刻就將眾人送到目的地。

它散發著黝黑的光芒，然後變成了土地的顏色，眾人似乎在一片巨大的土地中慢慢落下。耳畔響起不知是男是女是老是少的聲音，聲音時近時遠，他們在述說中些什麽*，又像是表達了什麽。

時間變得無限漫長，又似乎很短。

最後整個世界都震動了起來，他們努力的穩定著自己的身體。

直到某一刻，他們再次接觸到地面，震動在同一刻，停下了。

阿特蘭特沒有說話，他沈思著。

其他人似懂非懂的也在考慮著聽到的內容。

李新穎卻是難掩悲傷，最後無法抑制的捧著臉痛哭起來。

“姐姐，你怎麽了？”阿貝爾本也在思考著聽到的那些似是而非的奇妙的東西，但那些又怎麽能比女巫大人更重要呢？看到李新穎狀似不妥，他立刻上前詢問。

李新穎一把抱住阿貝爾，失聲痛哭，“阿貝爾，阿貝爾！我回不了家了，回不去了！”

天空小鎮中回蕩著女性的哭聲，久久不絕。

哭聲讓幾人回過神來，多是手足無措，幾個大男人只有碰到流血不流淚的女漢子或是真漢子，哪有像李新穎這樣哭的梨花帶雨的。

最後阿特蘭特才在牧師妹子的憤怒法杖攻擊下回過神來，他揉了揉被砸痛的額頭，不滿的表示不可以隨便砸腦袋，把他天才的腦袋砸壞了怎麽辦。

而後才發現還窩在阿貝爾懷裏哭泣的李新穎。

“怎麽了？任務結束了反而在哭？”

沒人回答他，連阿貝爾都不明所以。

李新穎哭著哭著，終於疲勞了許久的身體一軟，暈了過去。

阿特蘭特摩挲了下法杖頂端的水晶，“看來，有些東西需要更深入的研究下了。”

一般任務完成，幾人應該是回到魔法師工會總部的高塔研究室去，這次一反常態的聚集在了李新穎的天空小鎮中徘徊不去。

李新穎昏昏沈沈的睡著，阿貝爾也不反對他們常住，日子又回到了前往末地之路前準備時期的樣子。只是沒有了那個擔心大家會受傷會死的女人忙碌在附魔臺前的身影。

阿貝爾每日準備好流質的食物，給李新穎多少餵上一點。

偶爾李新穎也會醒來一會兒，哭得紅腫的眼睛默默的看向窗外，所有人都不明白發生了什麽，使得這個面對戰鬥都絲毫不畏懼的女性完全失去了鬥志與生活下去的欲望。

阿特蘭特一直窩在附魔室，他沒有在附魔，只是坐在附魔臺前，思考著離開末地之路時那段將近十分鐘的話語。

他摩挲著附魔臺的邊緣，觀察附魔臺上自動打開的書本，嘗試著捕捉從書架中飄逸而出的文字，核對著李新穎告訴他的信息。

是的，這是他所不熟悉的世界，不僅僅是不熟悉，應該是不知道的世界。正如下界也好，末地之路也好，這是和他生活的世界在不同緯度的另一個世界。

阿特蘭特推開房門，門口的餐具發出碰撞的聲音，他可能又錯過了一頓飯點。

阿特蘭特正想著，這不重要，還是先把自己的發現告訴大家。

“我勸你也好好吃晚飯吧，不吃飯體內的血糖就會降低，血糖降低同樣會減少腦細胞的能量，降低腦細胞的活力。無論是看書還是做研究都會有影響吧。”

李新穎的話突然回響在他耳邊……已經走出好幾步的身體停了下來，而後轉身，端起了放在門邊的餐盤，前往已經空無一人的露天餐廳。

“我有些事情想要說。”阿特蘭特在末影龍之戰之後第一次踏入了李新穎的房間。

“那出去說吧。”阿貝爾放下手中的碗，起身向外走去。

“不必，我是要和李小姐說。”

“姐姐已經很久沒有說話了……”阿貝爾有些擔憂的看著床上的女性，深褐色的眼眸失去了往日裏的生氣，連黑色順滑的長發都變得黯淡了。

“沒關系，只要她聽進去就行了。”阿特蘭特走到窗口，天空中的月亮比在地面上看到的更大更圓也更加明亮。

“真是美麗的景色。”他失聲嘆息。

“不覺得放棄這樣美麗的景色很可惜嗎？”轉過身來，阿特蘭特看著沒有任何反應的李新穎，“你在這裏不是生活了很久了嗎，不在一個世界是很難接受的現實嗎？”

“這個世界上有無數失去父母的人，你還有你的弟弟，還有你的朋友，雖然可能無法看到原先世界的親朋，你還有我們。”

“不就是，不是這個世界的人嘛，難道那個世界是這麽值得你感到優越的存在嗎？”阿特蘭特湊近了半坐著的李新穎，抓著她的領子讓她看清天空。

“這個世界有什麽不好的，不滿的話就改變它啊！你不是有這樣的能力嗎？”

“餵，李新穎！”

“回答我！”

“……”李新穎看著窗外幽幽的奶白色月光，“哪裏都不好。”

“呃……”

一巴掌拍開放肆的抓著自己的領子的手，“哪裏都不好！最不好的就是你這個失禮的男人。”嘶啞的聲音顯示主人長久沒有說話的現實。

“就這麽幾句話，你想了多久啊，笨女人。”阿特蘭特嘆氣離開，走到門口身都沒回又說了一句，“大家都在等你呢。”

“真是漫長的一年的，女巫大人。”阿貝爾溫和的笑著，笑容中透露出淡淡的疲倦。

“是嗎，已經一年了啊……”

====由於作者的話太長了，所以把高能預警放在這裏的分割線====

就算沒人相信了，還是放出高能預警╮(╯▽╰)╭

作者有話要說： *述說內容其實就是終末之詩，具體如下：

I see the player you mean.

我看到你所指的那位玩家了。

[Playername]?

[玩家名稱]?

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

是的。小心。它已達到了更高的境界。它能夠閱讀我們的思想。

That doesn't matter. It thinks we are part of the game.

無傷大雅。它認為我們是游戲的一部分。

I like this player. It played well. It did not give up.

我喜歡這個玩家。它玩得很好。它從未放棄。

It is reading our thoughts as though they were words on a screen.

它以屏幕上出現的文字的形式閱讀著我們的思想。

That is how it chooses to imagine many things, when it is deep in the dream of a game.

在它深陷游戲夢境中時，它總以這種方式想象出形形色色的事物。

Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying than staring at the reality behind the screen.

文字是種美妙的界面。非常靈活。且比凝視著屏幕後的現實要更好。

They used to hear voices. Before players could read. Back in the days when those who did not play called the players witches, and warlocks. And players dreamed they flew through the air, on sticks powered by demons.

它們也曾經聽到過聲音。在玩家能夠閱讀之前。君不見那些不曾游玩的人們稱呼玩家為女巫，和術士。而玩家們夢見它們自己乘坐在被惡魔施力的棍子上，在空氣中翺翔。

What did this player dream?

這個玩家夢見了什麽？

This player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted, and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter.

它夢見了陽光和樹。夢見了火與水。它夢見它創造。它亦夢見它毀滅。它夢見它狩獵，亦被狩獵。它夢見了庇護所。

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?

哈，那原始的界面。經歷一百萬年的歲月雕琢，依然長存。但此玩家在那屏幕後的真實裏，建造了什麽真實的構造？

It worked, with a million others, to sculpt a true world in a fold of the [scrambled], and created a [scrambled] for [scrambled], in the[scrambled].

它辛勤地勞作，和其它百萬眾一起，刻畫了一個真實的世界，由[亂碼]，且創造了[亂碼]，為了[亂碼]，於[亂碼]中。

It cannot read that thought.

它讀不出那個思想。

No. It has not yet achieved the highest level. That, it must achieve in the long dream of life, not the short dream of a game.

不。它還沒有到達最高的境界。那層境界，它必須完成生命的長夢，而非游戲中黃粱一夢。

Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?

它知道我們愛它麽？這個宇宙是仁慈的？

Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.

有時，通過它思緒的雜音，它能聽到宇宙，是的。

But there are times it is sad, in the long dream. It creates worlds that have no summer, and it shivers under a black sun, and it takes its sad creation for reality.

但是有時亦不勝悲傷，於那漫漫長夢中。它創造了沒有夏日的世界，在黑日下顫抖著，將自己悲傷的創造視為現實世界。

To cure it of sorrow would destroy it. The sorrow is part of its own private task. We cannot interfere.

用悲傷來治愈會摧毀它。而悲傷是它的私人事務。我們不能幹涉。

Sometimes when they are deep in dreams, I want to tell them, they are building true worlds in reality. Sometimes I want to tell them of their importance to the universe. Sometimes, when they have not made a true connection in a while, I want to help them to speak the word they fear.

有時當它們深陷夢境中時，我想要告訴它們，它們在現實中創造了真實的世界。有時我想告訴它們它們自身對宇宙的重要性。有時，當它們和現實失去了聯系，我想幫助它們與它們所懼怕的世界交流。

It reads our thoughts.

它讀出了我們的思想。

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.

有時我毫不關心。有時我想要告訴它們，你們所認為的真實不過是[亂碼]和[亂碼]，我想要告訴它們它們是在[亂碼]中的[亂碼]。於它們的長夢中，它們眼中所見的真實太少了。

And yet they play the game.

而它們仍然玩這個游戲。

But it would be so easy to tell them...

但很容易就可以告訴它們……

Too strong for this dream. To tell them how to live is to prevent them living.

對於這個夢來說太強烈了。告訴它們如何活著就是阻礙它們活下去。

I will not tell the player how to live.

我不會告訴這個玩家如何生活的。

The player is growing restless.

這個玩家正在變得焦慮。

I will tell the player a story.

我會告訴這個玩家一個故事。

But not the truth.

但不是真相。

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

不。是一個嚴密地將真實包裹起來的文字牢籠。而不是赤裸裸的真相。

Give it a body, again.

賦予它主體，再一次。

Yes. Player...

好的。玩家……

Use its name.

以名字稱呼它。

[Playername]. Player of games.

[玩家名稱]。游戲的玩家。

Good.

很好。

Take a breath, now. Take another. Feel air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Yes, move your fingers. Have a body again, under gravity, in air. Respawn in the long dream. There you are. Your body touching the universe again at every point, as though you were separate things. As though we were separate things.

深呼吸，很好。再深呼吸一次。感受空氣充盈你的肺葉。讓你的四肢回歸。是的，運動你的手指。再次感受你的身體，在重力下，在空氣中。在長夢中重生。你感受到了。你的身體每時每刻都觸摸著宇宙，盡管你是分離的存在。盡管我們是分離的存在。

Who are we? Once we were called the spirit of the mountain. Father sun, mother moon. Ancestral spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. The green man. Then gods, demons. Angels. Poltergeists. Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. The words change. We do not change.

我們是誰？我們曾經被稱作高山的精靈。太陽父親，月亮母親。古老的英靈，動物的魂魄。神祗。鬼魂。小綠人。而後是神，惡魔，天使。騷靈。外星人，地外生物。輕粒子，誇克。詞語不斷地變化。我們始終如一。

We are the universe. We are everything you think isn't you. You are looking at us now, through your skin and your eyes. And why does the universe touch your skin, and throw light on you? To see you, player. To know you. And to be known. I shall tell you a story.

我們是宇宙。我們是一切你認為出離你本體的事物。你現在看著我們，透過你的皮膚和你的眼睛。而為什麽宇宙觸摸著你的皮膚，向你灑向光芒？是為了看見你，玩家。以及被認知。我應告訴你一個故事。

Once upon a time, there was a player.

很久以前，有一個玩家。

The player was you, [Playername].

那玩家就是你，[玩家名稱]

Sometimes it thought itself human, on the thin crust of a spinning globe of molten rock. The ball of molten rock circled a ball of blazing gas that was three hundred and thirty thousand times more massive than it. They were so far apart that light took eight minutes to cross the gap. The light was information from a star, and it could burn your skin from a hundred and fifty million kilometres away.

有時它認為自己是那不斷旋轉的球體上一層薄薄的熔化的巖石上的人類。那融化的巖石球環繞著一個質量大它三十三萬倍的炫目氣體球旋轉。它們是相隔得如此之遠，以至於光需要八分鐘才能穿越那空隙。那光是來自一顆恒星的信息，它能夠在一億五千萬公裏外燒灼你的皮膚。

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.

有時這個玩家夢見它是一個在一個平的，無限延展的世界表面上的礦工。那太陽是一個方形的白點。晝夜交替很快；要做的事情也很多；死亡亦只是暫時和不方便的。

Sometimes the player dreamed it was lost in a story.

有時這玩家夢見它迷失在了一個故事裏。

Sometimes the player dreamed it was other things, in other places. Sometimes these dreams were disturbing. Sometimes very beautiful indeed. Sometimes the player woke from one dream into another, then woke from that into a third.

有時這玩家夢見它成為了其它的事物，在其它地方。有時這些夢是擾人的。有些則實在很美。有時這個玩家從一個夢中醒來，發現自己落入了第二個夢，卻終究是在第三個夢中。

Sometimes the player dreamed it watched words on a screen.

有時這個玩家夢見它在屏幕上看著文字。

Let's go back.

讓我們回退一點。

The atoms of the player were scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, in the ground. A woman gathered the atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and the woman assembled the player, in her body.

組成玩家的原子散布在草中，河流中，在那空氣中，也在那大地中。一個女性收集了那些原子；她飲用、進食、吸入；而後那女性在她的身體中，孕育了玩家。

And the player awoke, from the warm, dark world of its mother's body, into the long dream.

然後那玩家醒來了，從一個溫暖，昏暗的母親體內，進入了漫漫長夢。

And the player was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. And the player was a new program, never run before, generated by a sourcecode a billion years old. And the player was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love.

而那玩家是一個新的故事，從未被講述過，由DNA的語言書寫著。而那玩家是一個新的程序，從未被運行過，由上億年的源代碼生成。而那玩家是一個新的人，從未生活過，由奶和愛組成。

You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love.

你就是那玩家。那個故事。那個程序。那個人類。僅由奶和愛組成。

Let's go further back.

我們再往更遠的過去回退一點。

The seven billion billion billion atoms of the player's body were created, long before this game, in the heart of a star. So the player, too, is information from a star. And the player moves through a story, which is a forest of information planted by a man called Julian, on a flat, infinite world created by a man called Markus, that exists inside a small, private world created by the player, who inhabits a universe created by...

那由七千億億億原子組成的玩家的身體被創造了，遠在這游戲之前，在一顆恒星的內部。所以那玩家也是，來自一顆恒星的信息。而這個玩家貫穿這個故事的始末，源於一個叫Julian的人種下的信息種子長成的森林，一個叫Markus的男人創造的無限世界，存在於一個由玩家創造的小的，私人世界裏，而那又繼承了宇宙創造的……

Shush. Sometimes the player created a small, private world that was soft and warm and simple. Sometimes hard, and cold, andplicated. Sometimes it built a model of the universe in its head; flecks of energy, moving through vast empt

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