故事模式剧情详表 (移动版)：修订间差异

====英文剧情====<!--

It does still fly:the scythe.

 

Sitting on the length of the handle as a witch might lackadaisically sit on a broom,the young woman ridesdown a broken,shambled street.The blade sits upright beside and behind her,shifting for every swivel andturn.Her movements are smooth and completely ingrained.

 

As she goes,she looks upon a particular jumble oftlying glass.This one runs alongside and above the road like a river,and since her arrival it has not once lost or gained any memories for its flock.This being so peculiar,she checks it every day.Today,too,the memories that glint within each are all ones she has seen before.

 

Unrelated,unconnected memories of play,song,sadness,strange machines both enormous and fast..

It's really a rather eclectic mix,making the fact that they're seemingly unconnectedvey interesting.

 

Of course,finding a specific memory within a crowd is similar to seeking a needle in a stack of hay.

But the one here-it likes her in return.

 

A piece of glass breaks from the chain,and it approaches her as she glides on.She smiles faintly,lifting herright hand from her scythe so that the piece can come to rest over her palm.

 

In it is the final moment of a small hand-crafted flute's creation.Making the instrument had been a labor of many minutes,hurs,days and months,but the carver who'd done it had condensed all his feeling into this

single moment.It all came to this.

 

He plays a note,and the tone makes him wince.Terible

 

Though this memory marked the end of an arduous journey,it also marked the beginning ofan even grander one.

 

Such a curious position...

 

Truly--nd the others it shares a crowd with are special indeed.-->