故事模式剧情详表 (移动版):修订间差异

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Absolutely. You will all be remembered forever.<br><br>So long as I am here.}}
Absolutely. You will all be remembered forever.<br><br>So long as I am here.}}


===6-1===
解锁条件:购入[[Scarlet Cage]]单曲<br>解锁要求:通过[[Purgatorium]]
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她期望着能在这里见到其他人。<br><br>她不知道自己为何这么想。她的周围是一片白色的荒芜,只有褪色已久的废墟,<br>却毫无生灵的迹象——她自己则是个例外。<br><br>自苏醒于此处之后已经过去了几天,她却无法找回任何的记忆。<br>从前,她曾行走于天涯海角,探索力所能及的未知。眼前的这片破败的建筑并没有办法为她解惑。<br>所有的建筑都空无一物……虽然她觉得这些建筑本身看着眼熟,<br>却无法回忆起她究竟在何时得知了它们的名字、形状和作用。<br><br>她一次又一次地遇到这种状况:知道“是什么”,却不知“为什么”。<br>这对她来说倒也只是个烦恼,毕竟关于这个世界——以及她本身——还有更加明显、更加重大的事情需要去思考。<br><br>不过必须得说的是:这可真是个令人抓狂的怪地方呀。
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她紧紧地抓住肩膀上的吉他背带,于是问题来了:她是在哪儿拿到它的?<br>她到底为什么要带着它?虽然醒来时它就在她的身边,她却无法解答这些问题。<br>她只知道拨动琴弦、奏响旋律、在音品上方按住琴弦、作出更多旋律。<br>要适时地弹奏它,创作出节奏、音调、和弦、和声。更重要的是,当她握着它的时候,感觉非常的……安心。<br><br>但为什么?不,她不知道为什么。为什么她不知道呢?<br><br>她陷入了一片沙漠中,这是亘古岁月中的水流侵蚀所形成的。<br>然而周围并没有水,甚至连液体都不存在。这里怎么会有沙漠?行走,她知道如何行走。<br>为什么?她不知道答案。她从来就没获得过答案。<br><br>这些知识,甚至是“记忆”,真的有哪怕一丝的价值吗?<br>她真的“记得”这些东西吗?她是否已经“忘却”了别的东西?<br>她似乎失忆了,但失忆怎么会是这么的……有选择性?
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拥有知识,却不清楚知识的由来,这种情况让她陷入了深深的失落。<br>这让她显得不完整。就好像有人剥去了她的皮肤、肌肉和骨骼,然后组装到了另一个不相称的容器中<br>,还忘记了放入其它重要的东西,把空虚的她丢在了这里。<br><br>她讨厌无知。<br><br>她的脑海中有无数的疑问如万花筒般流转不息。<br>她强迫自己把注意力放在突然出现的、数不胜数的拐角上。但答案呢?还是没有。这里没有答案。<br><br>在她的赤足探险中(她一开始就决定把鞋挂在脖子上,因为硕大的鞋跟在这样的地形中不方便),<br>她几乎毫无收获。实际上,她看到的越多,就越是感受到自己的无知。<br><br>她讨厌无知。她知道自己周围的很多东西,却感觉对自己一无所知。<br><br>她看到的大多数东西都令人迷惑、毫无意义——尤其是那些莫名奇妙地飞舞在空中的玻璃。<br>那些玻璃向她展现了其他的人、其他的时代、其他的世界。这些镜像激起了最为古老的共鸣。<br>这些镜像,她觉得无疑是自己熟悉的东西。
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不过,所谓的熟悉终究也只是一种感觉。玻璃展示的镜像中从来没有她自己的身影。<br>这些场景并不是她所记得的过去。它们并不是回忆……至少并不是她的回忆。这些Arcaea,都不属于她。<br><br>她的情绪陷入消沉。这种消沉逐渐催生出担忧、疏离、迷惑和孤寂,<br>并让她感觉自己的内心缺失了某个重要的东西。她一点儿也不喜欢这种感觉。<br><br>她又开始了行走。行走好像总是能缓解她的情绪。这让她能够转而关注自己周围的东西,或者说,外界。}}
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She kept expecting there to be more people here.<br><br>She wasn’t sure why. All around her was a white wasteland, filled with nothing but faded, ruined<br>buildings, bereft of all life—all except for her.<br><br>In these few days since waking up in this place, without any recollection of what happened before,<br>she walked quite far and explored what she could. The tattered structures did little to answer her<br>questions. Each of them was empty... and while she found the architecture itself familiar, she<br>seemed to have no memory of when she’d learned their names, their shapes, their functions.<br><br>Time and again, that was the idea she’d come back to: knowing "what", but not "why". It could be<br>the idea was just a distraction for her, something to ponder in favor of the more obvious, weightier<br>things regarding this world—and inside herself.<br><br>She had to say, though: this was certainly a bizarre and bewildering place.
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She pulled her guitar’s strap tightly over her shoulder, and the questions returned. Where had she<br>gotten it? Why in the world was it with her? Despite having woken up alongside it, she couldn’t<br>answer those questions. She only knew to pluck the strings to make sounds, to hold the strings<br>over the frets to create others. To strum them in time, to create rhythms, melodies, chords,<br>harmonies. More than that, it was almost... comforting, when she held in her hands.<br><br>But why? No, she did not know why. Why didn’t she?<br><br>The sand around her—eroded over eons by water. No water here. No liquid, even. How was there<br>sand? Walking. She knew how to do that. Why? She had no answer. She never had any answers.<br><br>For what it was worth, was any of this knowledge even "memory" at all?<br>Was she "remembering" these things? Had she "forgotten" other things?<br>It seemed to her she had amnesia, but was amnesia this... selective?
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Knowing things, but not knowing why that knowledge existed within her, had her deeply and<br>fundamentally upset. It made her feel like an incomplete person. Like someone had removed her<br>skin and muscles and bones and placed them into some false container, but had forgotten to put<br>in all the other important things, leaving her hollow, forgotten.<br><br>She hated not knowing.<br><br>A kaleidoscope of questions shifted and rotated in her mind. She forced herself to focus on all the<br>sudden and overwhelming turns and angles. But answers? Again, no. There were no answers.<br><br>During her barefooted expeditions (she decided early on to keep her shoes looped around her<br>neck, since the large heels were inconvenient for the terrain) she’d learned next to nothing.<br>In fact, the more she saw, the less she felt that she knew.<br><br>She hated not knowing. She knew so many things about what was around her, and yet she felt<br>like she knew nothing of herself. So much of what she saw was baffling nonsense—not least of all<br>the glass wandering through the air for seemingly no reason. Glass that showed her other people,<br>other times, other worlds. Reflections, resonating in the oddest ways. Reflections, she thought,<br>which were undoubtedly familiar.
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Yet the familiarity was but a feeling. The glass never showed her in their reflections.<br>These were not scenes of a remembered past.<br>These were not memories... or, at least, they were not hers, these Arcaea. Nothing was hers.<br><br>Deep down, her emotions shifted. With that shift came a growing sense of concern, of being out of<br>place, of confusion, of faint loneliness, of something crucial being missing somewhere inside her.<br>And she didn’t like it one bit.<br><br>She started walking again. Walking always seemed to help.<br>It let her focus on what was around her instead. On what was outside.}}
===6-2===
解锁条件:完成[[#6-1|6-1]],购入[[Scarlet Cage]]单曲<br>解锁要求:通过[[Scarlet Cage]]
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不过对心中盘踞着的那种感觉的忽视也只能到此为止了。<br><br>最终,她坐在了一块稍显平整的岩石上,有些焦虑地用手梳理了一下秀发。<br>她转过头,看到一长串足迹渐渐消失在沙尘中,蜿蜒通向远方的地平线。<br>这里怎么可能会有这么大一片沙漠?她开始有些感到厌恶了。<br><br>在片刻的思绪之后,她拿起了自己的吉他,再次抱在了怀里。<br>那种安心的感觉瞬间回归了,就好像……来自父母或者友人的安慰。<br>她叹了口气。说实话,她能够继续前行的动力完全来自于此。<br><br>她不假思索地开始了弹奏。她的指尖抚过琴弦,安静而细微的和弦为旋律赋予了一丝难得的和谐。<br>她记得如何行走,记得如何弹奏。一丝微笑闪过她的嘴角:这两种行动对她来说就像是呼吸一样自然。<br><br>然而片刻过后,她的嘴角再次垂下,失去了笑意。已经有歌词涌到了她的唇齿之间,想要加入到这首歌曲当中。<br>它们起初是断断续续、吐露不清的,但在试着描绘一幅完整而有意义的景象。
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于是,身着红黑礼服的她唱起了歌——在这个白色的世界里,在这个看似单调而无尽的牢笼里。<br><br>逐渐地,她的歌声不再虚妄。感情在她的心中激荡、变得愈发地猛烈。<br>这些发自本能的歌声并不新奇,但也不属于被遗忘的过去。<br>它们一直都在她的心里,只是现在开始了涌动,想要冲出她的胸膛。<br>光是唱出来还不够,必须要叫出来、吼出来,才能让它们响彻在这个死寂世界的每个角落。<br>她竭尽全力地高喊着。<br><br>似乎这就是她最该做的事情。<br><br>她朝着迷惑的心绪咆哮,朝着未知咆哮,朝着黯淡的景象咆哮,<br>然后朝着小小的玻璃碎片中转瞬即逝的多彩回忆咆哮。<br><br>她用咆哮宣泄着——<br>恐惧。
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在弹奏中的那个瞬间,她终于明白了自己心中的那个感觉是什么。这个空虚的世界,她那空虚的记忆……<br><br>让她感到害怕。<br><br>她是谁?这个寂静的地方是哪里?她的身上将会发生什么?她的过去曾经发生过什么?<br><br>不过她已经知道,自己大概永远也没法知道答案了。至少在这里不行。<br><br>她的声音出现了些许的嘶哑,但她催促着喉咙、压迫着心肺,想要突破它们不知是否存在的极限。<br><br>她的手指在六根琴弦上疯狂地舞动。<br>她能在脑中清晰地聆听到空气的轰隆、尖啸与震荡,感受到其中蕴含的力量。<br><br>这是一股灵魂和音乐的风暴——在她的歌词下涌动着的是澎湃的暗流和沸腾的恐惧,<br>随后又变为强劲的热浪,从她的双眼奔流而出。<br><br>但不知为什么,出于某种她无法道明的原因,这让她稍微好受了一些。不再那么迷惑,也不再那么恐惧。
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一段时间后,吼叫的回声终于淡去。她的右手最后拨动了几下,随即从琴弦上垂下。<br>她的作品完成了。她的歌声消逝在明亮的天空中,能证明刚才发生的事情的就只有她心中近乎空虚的记忆。<br><br>她用另一只手擦了擦双眼,一边颤抖着,一边拒绝望向那带走了歌声的天空。<br><br>但她随后就笑了。这让她自己也很惊讶。这是发自内心的笑容——是实现成就后的笑容。<br>她用裙子抹了抹手,又自顾自地叹了口气。<br><br>老天啊,这鬼地方真是太讨厌了。}}
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But she could only ignore that creeping feeling for so long.<br><br>Eventually, she sat down on a relatively smooth chunk of stone and anxiously ran a hand through<br>her hair. Looking back, she could see a long set of footprints through the faded sand, stretching all<br>the way to the horizon. How was it possible there was this much sand? She was starting to get sick<br>of it.<br><br>After a moment’s thought, she brought her guitar around and held it, again, in her hands.<br>And there it was again, instantly: that comfort. It was like... a reassuring parent, or a friend.<br>She sighed. Really, that was all that she needed to keep going.<br><br>Without thinking, she began to hum a tune. Her fingers strummed the strings, their quiet, tinny<br>chords adding that precious harmony to her melody. She could remember how to walk, and she<br>could remember how to play. It brought a momentary smile to her lips: how both of these acts<br>came about as natural as breathing.<br><br>Her lips turned down again a moment later, however, losing their humor. Words were coming to her<br>tongue, her teeth, her lips, wanting to be added to this song. At first they were scattered, whirling,<br>trying to form a complete, sensible picture.
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And so, dressed in black and scarlet, she sang—in this world of white:<br>this colorless and seemingly infinite cage.<br><br>Gradually, her words gained volume. Her feelings roiled within her, wild, building in intensity.<br>These instinctive words weren’t new, nor were they old and forgotten.<br>They were always with her, and now they were clawing, screaming their way out of her chest.<br>Just speaking them wouldn’t be enough. They needed to be shouted, roared so that they<br>resounded in the furthest corners of this dead world. She yelled them as loud as she possibly could.<br><br>It just seemed like the right thing to do.<br><br>She shouted about confusion. She shouted about the unknown, about the bleak landscapes,<br>about the bounteous memories in tiny glass shards flitting past for brief moments before<br>disappearing again.<br><br>She shouted about—<br><br>Fear.
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For that one critical moment as she played, she realized what she’d been feeling, deep down.<br>This empty world, her empty memories...<br><br>They terrified her.<br><br>Who was she? What was this quiet place? What was going to happen to her?<br>What HAD happened to her?<br><br>But she already knew that she might never know. Not here.<br><br>Her voice broke for a note, but she pushed past and forced her lungs, should they exist, to their<br>limits.<br><br>Her fingers flew madly across the six strings. She could hear it vividly in her mind, the power, the<br>weaving together of rumbles, screeches, and vibrations.<br><br>A storm of her soul and of music—a tumultuous undercurrent rushing beneath her lyrics along<br>with the simmering dread, growing into a powerful heat, which reached her eyes as well.
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But somehow, in some way she couldn't pinpoint, it made her feel a little better.<br>A little less confused, a little less afraid.<br><br>After a time, the echoes of her shouting faded out. A few final plucks with her right hand, and she<br>dropped it from the strings, her work finished. Her song vanished into the bright sky, the evidence<br>it had ever happened now residing within her near-empty memories.<br><br>She put her other hand to her eyes and rubbed them, shivering, refusing to look at the heavens<br>that had taken her song away.<br><br>But then she gave a laugh. It surprised her. It was an honest laugh—and the smile of a job well<br>done. She wiped her hand on her dress and sighed to herself.<br><br>Man, she hated this place.}}


===6-3===
解锁条件:完成[[#6-2|6-2]],购入[[Scarlet Cage]]单曲<br>解锁要求:通过[[VECTOЯ]]
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这个世界还是那么令人迷惑——那么可怕、空虚而冷漠。<br><br>但现在,她觉得自己已经能够承受它们了。<br><br>她的心里并没有底,但可以肯定,那种恐惧也是她熟悉的东西。<br>她了解这种东西——它会让你双腿打颤、让你吓得跑开、让你无法做出决定、让你成为被它掌控的傀儡。<br>那是对未知的恐惧,是对失败的恐惧。<br><br>她现在只能假设,弹奏这首歌是自己的本能。<br>也许她以前就弹奏过,也许她以前就用咆哮宣泄过恐惧,就用这相同的方式。<br><br>也许她以前也这么做过。至少现在,她觉得自己能应付恐惧了。<br>她现在能更好地掌控自己扭曲的小情绪。如果她希望在这个令人困惑的世界中保持理智,<br>就需要时刻注意情绪,防止自己被恐惧所掌控。不过,恐惧总是如影随形。
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她呼出一口气,然后调整了一下坐姿,将吉他小心地放在身边,靠在了岩石上。<br>然后,她听到了一声轻轻的叮当声。<br><br>一个小布包掉出了她衣服内侧的口袋,落在了从沙中刺出的岩石上。<br>里面是几根针、一把小剪刀、一个顶针、几卷纺线以及一个卷尺。这是一个针线包。<br>她在刚苏醒时身上就带着它。她只能猜测这个东西是属于自己的。<br><br>她刚发现这个包的时候,心中充满了迷惑。她知道它是干什么用的,但不知道为什么自己会带着它。<br>当然,她“知道”里面的所有东西,但就像自己带着的吉他那样……并没有什么有用的线索能指出它的由来。<br><br>不过现在,当她伸出手想要捡起包时,她看到了自己的袖口,然后身形一凝。<br><br>她……是知道的,不是吗?她知道怎么织出这样的袖口。她知道该如何落下针脚。<br>她知道每一个褶皱的做法。她知道这些颜色具体叫什么。她知道这些衣线就来自于这个针线包。
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但除此之外就没有然后了。她可以轻松地根据逻辑得出结论,但她的回忆仍然被封锁着。<br>知识与记忆之间存在着残酷的断层……这简直是一种折磨。<br><br><br>不过现在……她不会让这种断层所造成的恐惧席卷自己的内心了。她会承认它,利用它。<br>就算不记得了又怎样呢?重要的是她知道这些东西。<br><br>但是,有一个切实的目标总归是好的。她目前并没有目标,但也许到了某个时候,她也会找到目标。<br><br>她重新动了起来,露出一个发自内心的笑容,一边还在想着这个刚才让她整个人都僵住的针线包。<br>这还挺便利的不是么?至少在这空虚的旅行中,她能保持最佳的着装状态了。<br>想到这里……她的外套并不是很实用,但这是属于她的,她也不会因为这个世界而抛弃它。<br><br>对,这是属于她的。<br><br>它,还有吉他、针线包——在这片记忆的荒原,这些都是属于她的。<br><br>知道这些并没有什么大用,但足够她走过很长一段旅途了。
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……走过一段路之后,身下的某个东西吸引了她的注意。<br><br>沙中的足迹……<br><br>但它们并不属于她。<br><br>足迹穿过了她的路线,向着左边延伸,尺码显然要小上几号。<br><br>她开始沿着足迹走去,然后看到它们消失在一个小坡后面。<br><br>她的脸上又露出了一个发自内心的笑容。<br><br>哈……<br><br>到头来,自己好像还真有一个观众哎。}}
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The world was no less confusing now—no less intimidating, no less empty, no less merciless.<br><br>But now, she felt like she could deal with it.<br><br>She couldn’t be sure, but she could have sworn that fear was something she was familiar with.<br>She knew things about it—how it could make your legs weak, how it could make you run away,<br>how it could prevent you from making decisions, how it could control you.<br>The fear of the unknown. The fear of failure.<br><br>And she could only assume it had been instinct that had led her to play that song.<br>Maybe she’d done it before. Maybe she’d shouted through her fear before, in much the same way.<br><br>Maybe she had. At least, now she felt like she could handle it.<br>She had a firmer grip on that twisted little emotion now.<br>If she wanted to stay sane in this baffling world, she needed to keep it in check, keep it from<br>controlling her.<br>But it would always be there.
----
She exhaled, then turned in her seat and carefully put her guitar aside, laying it onto the stone.<br>Then she heard a soft clink.<br><br>A small cloth bag had fallen out of her inside pocket to the stone sticking out above the sand.<br>In it were several needles, a little pair of scissors, a thimble, a few spools of thread, and a measure.<br>A sewing kit. It had been with her when she’d first woken up. She could only assume it was hers.<br><br>When she’d first found the pouch, it had just confused her. She knew what it was for, but had no<br>clue why she was carrying it. Each of the accoutrements within was, of course, "known" to her, but<br>like the guitar she carried with her... it hadn’t come with any helpful little notes explaining where<br>it came from.<br><br>But now, when she reached down to retrieve the pouch, upon seeing her sleeve, she froze.<br><br>She... knew, didn’t she? How that sleeve was made. She knew the stitches, she knew all of the folds.<br>She knew the exact colors. She knew those threads were in the sewing kit.
----
But any further connection escaped her. She could easily draw conclusions based on logic,<br>but her mind still felt closed. That cruel disconnect between knowledge and experience...<br>It was agonizing.<br><br>Now, though... Now she wouldn’t let herself be overwhelmed by the fear caused by that disconnect.<br>She would recognize it, use it. So what if she didn’t remember? What mattered was that she knew.<br><br>A concrete goal would certainly help, though. She didn’t have one yet, but maybe, in time,<br>she could find one.<br><br>A grin crossed her face as she started off again, still thinking of the kit which had just made her<br>shiver. Pretty convenient, huh? She could at least keep her clothing intact on this inane journey.<br>And with that thought... her outfit certainly wasn’t practical, but it was hers, and she wouldn’t<br>give it up for the world.<br><br>Yes. It was hers.<br><br>That, her guitar, and her sewing kit—in this wasteland of memory, they were all hers.
----
Knowing that helped a little, and a little help could go a long way.<br><br>...A few steps later, something below her caught her eye.<br><br>Footprints in the sand...<br><br>But they didn’t belong to her.<br><br>Crossing her path, leading off to the left, they were definitely a few sizes off.<br>She stared the way they headed, and saw that they disappeared behind a few gentle hills.<br><br>Another genuine, familiar grin crossed her face.<br><br>Huh...<br><br>Maybe she’d had an audience after all.}}
===7-1===
===7-1===
 解锁条件:购入[[Ephemeral Page]]曲包<br>解锁要求:通过[[Alice à la mode]]
 解锁条件:购入[[Ephemeral Page]]曲包<br>解锁要求:通过[[Alice à la mode]]
第2,013行: 第1,958行:
----
----
She'll find it.<br><br>The way back: to the one who cared for her the most in life.<br><br>And for the other...<br><br>If she cannot find him again on her journey, she knows a fragment of him will be there with her,<br>remaining in her heart. Perhaps she'll start making and never drinking tea. The thought... makes her<br>smile and laugh once again.<br><br>Alice decides then and there, feet on the ground and holding the shard of "truth" between her<br>fingers: even if she may always look forward, to the horizon that marks a new way...<br><br>...she will never, ever, forget what brought her there. }}
She'll find it.<br><br>The way back: to the one who cared for her the most in life.<br><br>And for the other...<br><br>If she cannot find him again on her journey, she knows a fragment of him will be there with her,<br>remaining in her heart. Perhaps she'll start making and never drinking tea. The thought... makes her<br>smile and laugh once again.<br><br>Alice decides then and there, feet on the ground and holding the shard of "truth" between her<br>fingers: even if she may always look forward, to the horizon that marks a new way...<br><br>...she will never, ever, forget what brought her there. }}
===8-1===
解锁条件:购入[[GIMME DA BLOOD]]单曲<br>解锁要求:通过[[GIMME DA BLOOD]]
{{collapse|标题颜色=#e7e7e7|内容颜色=#f7f7f7|标题=中文剧情|内容=
无月的暗夜笼罩着森林,似乎是想要将熊熊烈火扼杀在小小的村庄里,防止它逃窜到绵延的葱郁之中。<br><br>厮杀、嚎叫。与烈火相对应的是漆黑的身影,恐怖的形貌发出可怕的声音。<br>空气中弥漫着烟尘和惊恐,这让一些人满心只有夺路狂奔的念头。<br><br>但是对她来说,此时此刻内心里所感受到的却是令人刺激与兴奋的战意。<br><br>一道微光闪过,她那黑曜石般的长剑又撕裂了一只模糊的躯壳。<br>它们看似畸形的野兽,奔跑时四肢着地,战斗时又会灵活地利用后肢。<br>她的斩击直接从肩膀处将其一分为二,但对方的残躯尚未落地,<br>便如一道烟尘般散去,进而又融入那片火焰散发出的烟尘中。
----
就算将这些野兽从山火烟尘中化形的原理放在一边,她仍然对它们知之甚少。<br>野兽和野兽之间是很难分辨的。就她目前的了解,击杀对方只会将其本源送回烟尘之中,<br>然后重新变成野兽,就像一切都没有发生过一样。<br><br>她将华丽的剑刃又送入了一只阴影野兽的身体,顺便瞥了一眼背后。<br><br>村民们差不多要穿过森林了,那一边是不知哪个国家或势力的军队,<br>不断推进的前线想必会庇护他们的安全。<br><br>她得保护他们——不能让这股战意前功尽弃。<br><br>她纵身跃起,任由长发随风飘逸着,几乎瞬间跨过了整个战场。<br>就在野兽即将用烟尘般的爪子撕裂一名逃跑的农民时,她及时赶到并斩下了敌人的头颅。<br><br>那个小个子的壮实农妇在逃亡中略一停顿,<br>朝着这位陌生的剑舞者比了个手势——可能是表示感谢吧——然后匆忙逃走了。
----
剩下的事情花不了多少时间。<br>无论她发现自己身处何地,无论所在的世界有着怎样先进的科技,无论哪里的人们信奉怎样的思想,<br>她都只有一个目的:杀、杀、杀,直到斩除所有敌人为止。<br><br>终于,最后一个村民也磕磕绊绊地跑到了挥舞着长矛的士兵面前。她甚至能看到将士们额头上的汗水,<br>眼神中的恐惧……但她也看到了他们在搏杀时透露出的坚毅。<br><br>最后,她总算把剑放下了,吐出一口自己都没意识到的叹息。她知道接下来会发生什么。<br>一阵疲惫快速袭来——比上次更快了。<br><br>四周的世界开始破碎,就好像它原本只是一块玻璃所映射出的虚像。她闭上眼睛,无神地笑着。<br>惨淡的白光缓缓地包围了她……<br><br>……将她迎回了Arcaea的世界。}}
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A moonless night blanketed the forest, trying to smother the fires blazing throughout its sprawling<br>verdure and the village nestled within.<br><br>Crashes and screams. Horrible sounds from horrible shapes, dark against the flames. For some, the<br>smoke-filled air was inundated with panic, driving them to run as fast as their legs could carry them.<br><br>She, however, felt enveloped in something now familiar to her: an unadulterated thrill of battle.<br><br>Her obsidian-colored sword glinted as it cleaved another of the shadowy figures. They were shaped<br>like malformed beasts, running on all fours yet fighting dexterously on hind legs. Her cut severed<br>its shoulders from the rest of its body—but before it could hit the ground, the body dissipated, as<br>though becoming smoke, before rising into the air to join the smoke from the fire.
----
Save for how the beasts appeared to materialize from the smoke of the forest blaze itself, she didn’t<br>know much else about them. There was little to distinguish one from another. For all she knew,<br>killing one would simply send its essence back into the clouds, only for it to come back again as<br>though nothing had happened.<br><br>As she stabbed her ornate blade into another of the shadow-beasts, she spared a glance behind her.<br><br>The villagers were nearly through the forest to the safety of the advancing forward line of some<br>nation or other.<br><br>She needed to protect them—needed to let the thrill within her run its course.<br><br>She jumped, spanning almost a field’s length in a single leap, long hair fluttering behind her, to<br>behead another beast as it raised a smoky claw to gore a fleeing farmer.<br><br>The short, muscular woman paused her escape for just a moment to offer a gesture the<br>sword-wielder wasn’t familiar with—perhaps a sign of gratitude—before scrambling away again.
----
It wouldn’t be much longer now. No matter where she found herself, no matter how advanced the<br>world’s technology and no matter what the philosophy of its people, she always had one objective:<br>slay, slay, slay—until, presumably, the enemy was gone.<br><br>Finally, the last straggler from the village made it to the line of spear-wielding soldiers. She could<br>see from here the sweat on the troops’ brows, the fear in their eyes… but she could see the<br>determination in their postures as well.<br><br>Letting down her sword at last, she exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d kept, knowing what<br>was to come next. She felt the weariness hitting her quickly—and, once again, sooner than the last<br>time.<br><br>The world around her began to fracture, as though it had merely been a projected image made of<br>glass. She closed her eyes and smiled an empty smile. Slowly, she let the pale light engulf her...<br><br>...and welcome her back into the world of Arcaea.}}
===8-2===
解锁条件:完成[[#8-1|8-1]],购入[[GIMME DA BLOOD]]单曲<br>解锁要求:通过[[Bookmaker (2D Version)]]
{{collapse|标题颜色=#e7e7e7|内容颜色=#f7f7f7|标题=中文剧情|内容=
迷尔并不知道自己的名字,即使她在来到这个死寂世界之前有什么记忆,现在也都遗失了。<br><br>一块玻璃碎片——就是这次将她卷入其中的那块——绕着她转了一圈,然后就飞向了远处。<br>从经验来看,她再也见不着它了。<br>它们叫作Arcaea——这是它们的名字,她在苏醒后就不知为何地知道这一点——<br>它们似乎展示着处于某些特定状况的纷纷世界。 <br><br>她没法触碰这些碎片,但它们能对自己起效。<br>至今以来,它们已经将自己卷入其中十多次,让她参与到各种世界和事件当中,<br>并且都有着明显相同的目标:击败——不,应该是将敌人碾碎在脚下。<br><br>在每一次的经历中,都不可避免地出现一些无法与她并肩作战的人……<br>不过,比起保护他们的念头,还是战斗的渴望更让人热血上涌。
----
她能如臂指使这把苏醒时就带着的宝剑,虽然也不知道它是从哪儿来的。<br>她能感觉到,自己的剑技实在是超乎寻常。她显然能做到各个世界中的人们力所不能及的事情。<br>事实上,即使是她的敌人,在面对面的决斗中也没法造成多大的挑战。<br>她逐渐意识到,真正困难的地方还是在于是否能保护其他人。<br><br>不过,一旦她进入战斗状态,这些想法就都被抛之脑后了。战斗让她陶醉,沉醉于暴力所带来的快感。<br><br>然而这股喜悦似乎正在以超乎想象的速度褪去,只留下空虚和疲惫,而这要花上许多小时,<br>甚至是许多天去恢复。并且,似乎每一次恢复所需的时间都在加长。<br><br>空虚的乏力感让她开始思索自己被卷入的那些世界。虽然她之前相信它们是完全不同的世界,<br>但近来又有些怀疑。感觉这更像是……她在观看某种影像,并且因为某些原因,她能够与之互动。<br>她能感觉到,真相其实显而易见,她本来应该是知道的,只是现在她还抓不到一丝头绪……
----
她将剑扛上了肩膀,疲惫地望向四周。目光所及之处尽是一片白沙。<br>这是一片褪色的沙漠,就像归来后极度空虚的自己。<br>她背后的足迹仍然和她“穿越”前的样子分毫不差。因为静滞无风,也没法判断过去了多久。<br><br>在这里,似乎时间也没什么意义。<br><br>又是一次召唤。眼前再次充满了白光。<br><br>她兀然出现在了某个地方。<br>战火焦灼的大地,硝烟弥漫的苍穹,四处布设的简易障碍,以及深挖进地面的壕沟。<br><br>她茫然四顾,突然感到一阵乏力。<br>召唤的地点从没这么近,以前也都会冒出些弱小的敌人——就像是舞台上无面的群演,毫无意义,<br>但或许又是那些莫名战斗的唯一意义。更重要的是,她的敌人在哪里?<br><br>这次她的战斗在哪里?}}
{{collapse|状态=collapsed|标题颜色=#e7e7e7|内容颜色=#f7f7f7|标题=英文剧情|内容=
Mir did not know her name, and if she had any memories from before this dead world to<br>remember, they were lost to her now.<br><br>A glass shard—the one that had pulled her this time—briefly spun around her before shooting<br>away into the distance. She knew from experience she wouldn’t see it again. They were called<br>Arcaea—their name a fragment of knowledge from her awakening of which she did not know the<br>origin—and they seemed to show other worlds in the midst of certain situations.<br><br>She couldn’t touch the shards, but they could act on her. Over a dozen times now, they had pulled<br>her inside, bringing her into those worlds and situations, with the apparent reason always the<br>same: to defeat—no, to crush her enemies underfoot.<br><br>Inevitably, each time, there would be those unable to fight behind her... though the idea of<br>shielding them paled in comparison to the driving, blood-racing thrill of the fight.
----
She was skilled with this blade she had woken up with—wherever it had come from. And something<br>told her that she was too skilled. She could clearly do things that others in these worlds couldn’t.<br>In fact, even her enemies didn’t pose much challenge for her in person-to-person combat. The true<br>challenge, she was learning, was in the protection of others.<br><br>But when she was in the fray, such concerns meant nothing to her. She reveled in the battle—let the<br>mirth of violence course through her.<br><br>That mirth, however, seemed to be draining from her more quickly after the fact, leaving naught<br>but emptiness and exhaustion that took what felt like hours, if not days, to restore. And it seemed<br>to be taking longer and longer each time.<br><br>The absence of adrenaline led her to ponder these other worlds she was being tossed into. Even<br>what had previously seemed to her to be fact, that these were other worlds at all, didn’t feel quite<br>right of late. It was almost more like... she was being shown images, ones that for some reason she<br>could act within. The answer was obvious, she sensed, as though she should have known it, yet it<br>was just beyond her grasp...
----
Tired, she hefted her sword onto her shoulder and took a look around. White sand, as far as the<br>eye could see. A desert, drained of its color, mirroring how drained she herself felt upon returning to<br>it. The trail of footprints behind her were exactly as they were before the "spiriting away". Without<br>any wind, it was impossible to tell how much time had passed.<br><br>Not that time seemed to have much meaning here.<br><br>Another calling. Everything turned white again.<br><br>Abruptly, she stood somewhere else. Fields charred brown, smoke in the sky, makeshift fences<br>erected on land and trenches dug into the ground.<br><br>She looked around, suddenly exhausted. The callings had never happened this close together<br>before. And where were the weak ones—that throng of faceless actors on the stage, pointless yet<br>also perhaps the sole reason for being thrown into battle? More importantly, where were her<br>enemies?<br><br>Where was her fight?}}
===8-3===
解锁条件:完成[[#8-2|8-2]],购入[[GIMME DA BLOOD]]单曲<br>解锁要求:通过[[Illegal Paradise]]
{{collapse|标题颜色=#e7e7e7|内容颜色=#f7f7f7|标题=中文剧情|内容=
战争。<br><br>迷尔经历过战斗——但从未经历战争。<br><br>她现在看到了,人们以致命的效率相互残杀,有时惊慌躲闪,有时英勇无畏,有时又丑态百出……<br><br>无论她走向哪里,她都发现别人比她弱小。那是些无辜、害怕又太过年轻的面庞。<br>他们看到她,然后又看向别处,好像把她当成了幻觉,一丝海市蜃楼。<br>她试过不顾一切地保护他们,但他们只会自己迈向死亡。<br><br>无论她走向哪里,她都能发现敌人。士兵们会对已经缴械的敌人举起武器。<br>那些与人性毫无关联的可怕兵器以她未能想象的速度散播着死亡。<br>即使她摧毁它们,也只会有更多的兵器从四面八方冒出来。
----
她冲向另一群人,那里一群身着蓝衣和红衣的两派人马正在彼此交战。<br>她迅速地做出判断,然后干掉了那些身着红衣的家伙。<br>然而在她身后,刚才救下来的那些人却被一种她从未见过的方式瞬间灭杀。<br><br>就这样消散殆尽。<br><br>在头顶上呼啸着的飞行物,如同倾盆大雨般毁灭着地上的一切。<br>那些飞行物上的徽记和身着蓝衣的人身上的一样。它们发出的火焰迅速地带走了诸多的生命。<br>难道说,它们才是该对付的敌人吗?<br><br>她深呼吸,然后向后挥动手臂,摆出发力的架势。在片刻的瞄准之后,她猛地转动身体,<br>怒吼着向空中掷出长剑。利剑划破空气朝那群飞行物飞去,然后如天国之刃般撕裂了它们,<br>在蔚蓝的天空中绽放出橘色与红色的鲜明火焰。<br><br>然后她看到一群人从飞行物中跳了出来,这让她觉得自己的所作所为依然是错误的。<br>白色从那些人的头顶和背后膨胀开来,随后下落的速度也逐渐放缓。<br>是降落伞吗?但对于红方的武器来说,这都是些简单的靶子而已。<br><br>战意正在,快速地消失。
----
疲惫又逐渐占据了她。<br><br>随之而来的还有,绝望——她对战场上的千变万化束手无力。<br><br>茫然——在犯下错误之后,她手足无措,更不知自己究竟要去击败谁。<br><br>恐惧——她害怕自己的决定会导致更糟糕的情况。<br><br>战意消失了。<br><br>就好像一位可靠的伙伴背叛了她,在她危难的关头弃她而去。<br>她双手摸索着,想要找回它。<br>怎么能没有它呢?<br>否则她可就要失去动力了,今后再也无力迈出任何一步。<br><br>她终究还是没能找回它,最后也跟那些受伤的士兵一样,双膝跪地。
----
不知多少个小时过去。<br><br>战场上的怒号已经淡去,只留下战后真正的创伤。<br><br>她双手捂住耳朵,想要隔离那些呻吟和哀叫。她闭上眼睛,想要忽略那些惨象和腥味。<br><br>她自言自语着:“这不是我的错,不是我的错。”<br><br>然而……这就是她的错。她觉得自己本来肯定是能做些什么。<br>她也许能改变些什么——想尽办法地去阻止这一切。<br><br>然而,当她思考自己能做些什么时,她发现自己无能为力。<br><br>这样的思绪不断重复,在她的脑海中萦绕徘徊不去。她感觉自己头晕目眩,心慌神颤。<br><br>最后,她的四周再次被白光笼罩,她被送回了Arcaea世界,一如往常。
----
她立刻就瘫倒在了地上,大口喘着气。<br>她的剑本来在几小时前就被扔上了天,此刻却也横着掉在她身旁, 在沙子上发出干瘪的碰撞声。<br><br>她闭着眼坐了起来,试图忘记一切,试图放空心神,试图不再理会这片纯白世界。<br><br>她来这里是干嘛的?她为什么会出现在这里?<br><br>自从她苏醒后,她的时间只足够拿来睡眠和思考自己之所以被召唤至此的问题。<br>但她缺失的记忆一直是心头挥之不去的阴霾。<br><br>她本来是想要干嘛的?<br><br>她想了又想,还是想不出来。
----
于是她又转过头,看向这片沙漠,盯着背后那条向后延伸出去的脚印。<br>她真希望自己能知道本来的目的地是哪里。<br><br>她不知道的是,她的脚印已经与另一条相连了,虽然距离是有些远。<br><br>但现在,她所能做的只有祈祷。她不知道该向谁祈祷,但她还是如此做着,<br>希望在这片空虚的白色沙漠中,自己能得到哪怕一丝的慰藉。}}
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War.<br><br>Mir had experienced battle before—but never war.<br><br>She now watched people kill one another with deadly efficiency, run for their lives in fear, engage<br>in feats of true heroism, engage in displays of utter dishonor...<br><br>Every way she turned, she found those weaker than her. Innocent, terrified faces, and all too many<br>of them young. They would see her, then look away, as if recognizing her only as a hallucination, a<br>trick of the light. She nonetheless tried to protect them. They would then run to their deaths.<br><br>Every way she turned, she found enemies. Soldiers leveling weapons at disarmed foes. Terrible<br>armaments, disassociated from humanity, delivering death faster than she could have ever believed<br>possible. She destroyed them, and then more would appear on the other side.
----
She jumped to yet another group of people, blue uniforms fighting against red, before making a<br>quick judgement and taking down the red ones. Behind, those people she had just protected were<br>wiped out in an instant from a strike she hadn’t seen coming.<br><br>Fading.<br><br>Vessels soared overhead, raining pure destruction down upon the lands. The vessels bore the same<br>insignias as those in the blue uniforms. Their fire swiftly took so many lives. Were they the true<br>enemy?<br><br>Taking a deep breath, she swung her arm back. After a mere moment’s pause to take aim, she spun,<br>hurling her sword into the air with a shout. The blade screamed upward at the small formation—<br>then tore through them, sending wild oranges and reds scattering through the firmament.<br><br>Then she saw the people jumping, and realized her mistake. White flared above and behind them,<br>and their descent slowed—parachutes? But they were easy targets against the red side’s weaponry.<br><br>The thrill was fading. Quickly.
----
Exhaustion crept back in.<br><br>And with it, despair—hopelessness at this situation over which she seemed to hold no power.<br><br>Indecision—the uncertainty of knowing what to do after the errors she’d made, and of who it was,<br>exactly, she needed to defeat.<br><br>Fright—the fear that her decisions would lead to something even worse.<br><br>The thrill was gone.<br><br>It felt like a trusted partner had betrayed her. Left her in her moment of need. She reached out with<br>her hands, searching for it. It had to be here. She had no fuel without it. Nothing to give her the<br>strength to take another step.<br><br>Unable to find it, eventually she, like those wounded soldiers, fell to her knees.
----
Hours passed. The raging battle was now dwindling, leaving behind the true horror of warfare.<br><br>She put her hands over her ears to protect herself from their moans, their yells. She shut her eyes<br>to block out the sights and smells.<br><br>It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault, she told herself.<br><br>And yet... it was, still, her fault. She surely could have done something, she thought. She could<br>have changed something—anything to prevent this.<br><br>When she tried to think about what she could have done, however, she found she couldn’t.<br><br>And that process repeated, as it had done the last dozen times. She felt her nerves fraying, panic<br>setting in.<br><br>Eventually, her surroundings whitened, and she was sent back into the world of Arcaea in the same<br>manner as all the other times.
----
Immediately, she crumpled to the ground, breathing heavily. Her sword, which she’d thrown into<br>the air hours before, dropped down beside her, hitting the sand lengthwise with a dry clap.<br><br>She sat there, eyes closed, trying to forget, trying to make her mind go blank, trying to keep out the<br>sheer whiteness of this damned world’s sky.<br><br>What was she doing here? What did this world want from her?<br><br>Ever since her awakening, she’d only been given the time to ponder her summonings and to sleep.<br>But her lack of memories hung there in the back of her mind like a haunting phantom.<br><br>What did SHE want to do?<br><br>She thought, and thought, and realized she didn’t know.
----
So she turned her head to look back along the sands, gazing at the long trail of footprints<br>stretching out behind her. She wished she knew where she was going.<br><br>Unbeknownst to her, however, that trail of footprints had already been joined by another, still quite<br>far off.<br><br>But for now, she prayed. She didn’t know to whom, but she prayed regardless, hoping that she<br>would be granted just a little bit of respite, now, on these empty, white dunes.}}
===9-1===
===9-1===
 解锁条件:购入[[Esoteric Order]]曲包<br>解锁要求:通过[[Paper Witch]]
 解锁条件:购入[[Esoteric Order]]曲包<br>解锁要求:通过[[Paper Witch]]
第2,385行: 第2,274行:
Kou flies to the starlight, and at once Shirahime steps forward.<br><br>Perhaps she has forgotten her want of a kingdom.<br><br>She already knows: there are others here.<br><br>The world is vast, but she will find them.<br><br>What a crown and scepter mean is nobility, and what a noble does is draw others to her, like a<br>much-needed hearth. Maybe her blood is not noble at all.<br><br>However, it must be said: despite her whining, her wavering, and her very weak heart...<br><br>...her soul very much is.}}
Kou flies to the starlight, and at once Shirahime steps forward.<br><br>Perhaps she has forgotten her want of a kingdom.<br><br>She already knows: there are others here.<br><br>The world is vast, but she will find them.<br><br>What a crown and scepter mean is nobility, and what a noble does is draw others to her, like a<br>much-needed hearth. Maybe her blood is not noble at all.<br><br>However, it must be said: despite her whining, her wavering, and her very weak heart...<br><br>...her soul very much is.}}
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==Short(短篇)==
短篇故事是牵涉到限时活动[[搭档]]的故事。===6-1===
解锁条件:购入[[Scarlet Cage]]单曲<br>解锁要求:通过[[Purgatorium]]
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她期望着能在这里见到其他人。<br><br>她不知道自己为何这么想。她的周围是一片白色的荒芜,只有褪色已久的废墟,<br>却毫无生灵的迹象——她自己则是个例外。<br><br>自苏醒于此处之后已经过去了几天,她却无法找回任何的记忆。<br>从前,她曾行走于天涯海角,探索力所能及的未知。眼前的这片破败的建筑并没有办法为她解惑。<br>所有的建筑都空无一物……虽然她觉得这些建筑本身看着眼熟,<br>却无法回忆起她究竟在何时得知了它们的名字、形状和作用。<br><br>她一次又一次地遇到这种状况:知道“是什么”,却不知“为什么”。<br>这对她来说倒也只是个烦恼,毕竟关于这个世界——以及她本身——还有更加明显、更加重大的事情需要去思考。<br><br>不过必须得说的是:这可真是个令人抓狂的怪地方呀。
----
她紧紧地抓住肩膀上的吉他背带,于是问题来了:她是在哪儿拿到它的?<br>她到底为什么要带着它?虽然醒来时它就在她的身边,她却无法解答这些问题。<br>她只知道拨动琴弦、奏响旋律、在音品上方按住琴弦、作出更多旋律。<br>要适时地弹奏它,创作出节奏、音调、和弦、和声。更重要的是,当她握着它的时候,感觉非常的……安心。<br><br>但为什么?不,她不知道为什么。为什么她不知道呢?<br><br>她陷入了一片沙漠中,这是亘古岁月中的水流侵蚀所形成的。<br>然而周围并没有水,甚至连液体都不存在。这里怎么会有沙漠?行走,她知道如何行走。<br>为什么?她不知道答案。她从来就没获得过答案。<br><br>这些知识,甚至是“记忆”,真的有哪怕一丝的价值吗?<br>她真的“记得”这些东西吗?她是否已经“忘却”了别的东西?<br>她似乎失忆了,但失忆怎么会是这么的……有选择性?
----
拥有知识,却不清楚知识的由来,这种情况让她陷入了深深的失落。<br>这让她显得不完整。就好像有人剥去了她的皮肤、肌肉和骨骼,然后组装到了另一个不相称的容器中<br>,还忘记了放入其它重要的东西,把空虚的她丢在了这里。<br><br>她讨厌无知。<br><br>她的脑海中有无数的疑问如万花筒般流转不息。<br>她强迫自己把注意力放在突然出现的、数不胜数的拐角上。但答案呢?还是没有。这里没有答案。<br><br>在她的赤足探险中(她一开始就决定把鞋挂在脖子上,因为硕大的鞋跟在这样的地形中不方便),<br>她几乎毫无收获。实际上,她看到的越多,就越是感受到自己的无知。<br><br>她讨厌无知。她知道自己周围的很多东西,却感觉对自己一无所知。<br><br>她看到的大多数东西都令人迷惑、毫无意义——尤其是那些莫名奇妙地飞舞在空中的玻璃。<br>那些玻璃向她展现了其他的人、其他的时代、其他的世界。这些镜像激起了最为古老的共鸣。<br>这些镜像,她觉得无疑是自己熟悉的东西。
----
不过,所谓的熟悉终究也只是一种感觉。玻璃展示的镜像中从来没有她自己的身影。<br>这些场景并不是她所记得的过去。它们并不是回忆……至少并不是她的回忆。这些Arcaea,都不属于她。<br><br>她的情绪陷入消沉。这种消沉逐渐催生出担忧、疏离、迷惑和孤寂,<br>并让她感觉自己的内心缺失了某个重要的东西。她一点儿也不喜欢这种感觉。<br><br>她又开始了行走。行走好像总是能缓解她的情绪。这让她能够转而关注自己周围的东西,或者说,外界。}}
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She kept expecting there to be more people here.<br><br>She wasn’t sure why. All around her was a white wasteland, filled with nothing but faded, ruined<br>buildings, bereft of all life—all except for her.<br><br>In these few days since waking up in this place, without any recollection of what happened before,<br>she walked quite far and explored what she could. The tattered structures did little to answer her<br>questions. Each of them was empty... and while she found the architecture itself familiar, she<br>seemed to have no memory of when she’d learned their names, their shapes, their functions.<br><br>Time and again, that was the idea she’d come back to: knowing "what", but not "why". It could be<br>the idea was just a distraction for her, something to ponder in favor of the more obvious, weightier<br>things regarding this world—and inside herself.<br><br>She had to say, though: this was certainly a bizarre and bewildering place.
----
She pulled her guitar’s strap tightly over her shoulder, and the questions returned. Where had she<br>gotten it? Why in the world was it with her? Despite having woken up alongside it, she couldn’t<br>answer those questions. She only knew to pluck the strings to make sounds, to hold the strings<br>over the frets to create others. To strum them in time, to create rhythms, melodies, chords,<br>harmonies. More than that, it was almost... comforting, when she held in her hands.<br><br>But why? No, she did not know why. Why didn’t she?<br><br>The sand around her—eroded over eons by water. No water here. No liquid, even. How was there<br>sand? Walking. She knew how to do that. Why? She had no answer. She never had any answers.<br><br>For what it was worth, was any of this knowledge even "memory" at all?<br>Was she "remembering" these things? Had she "forgotten" other things?<br>It seemed to her she had amnesia, but was amnesia this... selective?
----
Knowing things, but not knowing why that knowledge existed within her, had her deeply and<br>fundamentally upset. It made her feel like an incomplete person. Like someone had removed her<br>skin and muscles and bones and placed them into some false container, but had forgotten to put<br>in all the other important things, leaving her hollow, forgotten.<br><br>She hated not knowing.<br><br>A kaleidoscope of questions shifted and rotated in her mind. She forced herself to focus on all the<br>sudden and overwhelming turns and angles. But answers? Again, no. There were no answers.<br><br>During her barefooted expeditions (she decided early on to keep her shoes looped around her<br>neck, since the large heels were inconvenient for the terrain) she’d learned next to nothing.<br>In fact, the more she saw, the less she felt that she knew.<br><br>She hated not knowing. She knew so many things about what was around her, and yet she felt<br>like she knew nothing of herself. So much of what she saw was baffling nonsense—not least of all<br>the glass wandering through the air for seemingly no reason. Glass that showed her other people,<br>other times, other worlds. Reflections, resonating in the oddest ways. Reflections, she thought,<br>which were undoubtedly familiar.
----
Yet the familiarity was but a feeling. The glass never showed her in their reflections.<br>These were not scenes of a remembered past.<br>These were not memories... or, at least, they were not hers, these Arcaea. Nothing was hers.<br><br>Deep down, her emotions shifted. With that shift came a growing sense of concern, of being out of<br>place, of confusion, of faint loneliness, of something crucial being missing somewhere inside her.<br>And she didn’t like it one bit.<br><br>She started walking again. Walking always seemed to help.<br>It let her focus on what was around her instead. On what was outside.}}
===6-2===
解锁条件:完成[[#6-1|6-1]],购入[[Scarlet Cage]]单曲<br>解锁要求:通过[[Scarlet Cage]]
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不过对心中盘踞着的那种感觉的忽视也只能到此为止了。<br><br>最终,她坐在了一块稍显平整的岩石上,有些焦虑地用手梳理了一下秀发。<br>她转过头,看到一长串足迹渐渐消失在沙尘中,蜿蜒通向远方的地平线。<br>这里怎么可能会有这么大一片沙漠?她开始有些感到厌恶了。<br><br>在片刻的思绪之后,她拿起了自己的吉他,再次抱在了怀里。<br>那种安心的感觉瞬间回归了,就好像……来自父母或者友人的安慰。<br>她叹了口气。说实话,她能够继续前行的动力完全来自于此。<br><br>她不假思索地开始了弹奏。她的指尖抚过琴弦,安静而细微的和弦为旋律赋予了一丝难得的和谐。<br>她记得如何行走,记得如何弹奏。一丝微笑闪过她的嘴角:这两种行动对她来说就像是呼吸一样自然。<br><br>然而片刻过后,她的嘴角再次垂下,失去了笑意。已经有歌词涌到了她的唇齿之间,想要加入到这首歌曲当中。<br>它们起初是断断续续、吐露不清的,但在试着描绘一幅完整而有意义的景象。
----
于是,身着红黑礼服的她唱起了歌——在这个白色的世界里,在这个看似单调而无尽的牢笼里。<br><br>逐渐地,她的歌声不再虚妄。感情在她的心中激荡、变得愈发地猛烈。<br>这些发自本能的歌声并不新奇,但也不属于被遗忘的过去。<br>它们一直都在她的心里,只是现在开始了涌动,想要冲出她的胸膛。<br>光是唱出来还不够,必须要叫出来、吼出来,才能让它们响彻在这个死寂世界的每个角落。<br>她竭尽全力地高喊着。<br><br>似乎这就是她最该做的事情。<br><br>她朝着迷惑的心绪咆哮,朝着未知咆哮,朝着黯淡的景象咆哮,<br>然后朝着小小的玻璃碎片中转瞬即逝的多彩回忆咆哮。<br><br>她用咆哮宣泄着——<br>恐惧。
----
在弹奏中的那个瞬间,她终于明白了自己心中的那个感觉是什么。这个空虚的世界,她那空虚的记忆……<br><br>让她感到害怕。<br><br>她是谁?这个寂静的地方是哪里?她的身上将会发生什么?她的过去曾经发生过什么?<br><br>不过她已经知道,自己大概永远也没法知道答案了。至少在这里不行。<br><br>她的声音出现了些许的嘶哑,但她催促着喉咙、压迫着心肺,想要突破它们不知是否存在的极限。<br><br>她的手指在六根琴弦上疯狂地舞动。<br>她能在脑中清晰地聆听到空气的轰隆、尖啸与震荡,感受到其中蕴含的力量。<br><br>这是一股灵魂和音乐的风暴——在她的歌词下涌动着的是澎湃的暗流和沸腾的恐惧,<br>随后又变为强劲的热浪,从她的双眼奔流而出。<br><br>但不知为什么,出于某种她无法道明的原因,这让她稍微好受了一些。不再那么迷惑,也不再那么恐惧。
----
一段时间后,吼叫的回声终于淡去。她的右手最后拨动了几下,随即从琴弦上垂下。<br>她的作品完成了。她的歌声消逝在明亮的天空中,能证明刚才发生的事情的就只有她心中近乎空虚的记忆。<br><br>她用另一只手擦了擦双眼,一边颤抖着,一边拒绝望向那带走了歌声的天空。<br><br>但她随后就笑了。这让她自己也很惊讶。这是发自内心的笑容——是实现成就后的笑容。<br>她用裙子抹了抹手,又自顾自地叹了口气。<br><br>老天啊,这鬼地方真是太讨厌了。}}
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But she could only ignore that creeping feeling for so long.<br><br>Eventually, she sat down on a relatively smooth chunk of stone and anxiously ran a hand through<br>her hair. Looking back, she could see a long set of footprints through the faded sand, stretching all<br>the way to the horizon. How was it possible there was this much sand? She was starting to get sick<br>of it.<br><br>After a moment’s thought, she brought her guitar around and held it, again, in her hands.<br>And there it was again, instantly: that comfort. It was like... a reassuring parent, or a friend.<br>She sighed. Really, that was all that she needed to keep going.<br><br>Without thinking, she began to hum a tune. Her fingers strummed the strings, their quiet, tinny<br>chords adding that precious harmony to her melody. She could remember how to walk, and she<br>could remember how to play. It brought a momentary smile to her lips: how both of these acts<br>came about as natural as breathing.<br><br>Her lips turned down again a moment later, however, losing their humor. Words were coming to her<br>tongue, her teeth, her lips, wanting to be added to this song. At first they were scattered, whirling,<br>trying to form a complete, sensible picture.
----
And so, dressed in black and scarlet, she sang—in this world of white:<br>this colorless and seemingly infinite cage.<br><br>Gradually, her words gained volume. Her feelings roiled within her, wild, building in intensity.<br>These instinctive words weren’t new, nor were they old and forgotten.<br>They were always with her, and now they were clawing, screaming their way out of her chest.<br>Just speaking them wouldn’t be enough. They needed to be shouted, roared so that they<br>resounded in the furthest corners of this dead world. She yelled them as loud as she possibly could.<br><br>It just seemed like the right thing to do.<br><br>She shouted about confusion. She shouted about the unknown, about the bleak landscapes,<br>about the bounteous memories in tiny glass shards flitting past for brief moments before<br>disappearing again.<br><br>She shouted about—<br><br>Fear.
----
For that one critical moment as she played, she realized what she’d been feeling, deep down.<br>This empty world, her empty memories...<br><br>They terrified her.<br><br>Who was she? What was this quiet place? What was going to happen to her?<br>What HAD happened to her?<br><br>But she already knew that she might never know. Not here.<br><br>Her voice broke for a note, but she pushed past and forced her lungs, should they exist, to their<br>limits.<br><br>Her fingers flew madly across the six strings. She could hear it vividly in her mind, the power, the<br>weaving together of rumbles, screeches, and vibrations.<br><br>A storm of her soul and of music—a tumultuous undercurrent rushing beneath her lyrics along<br>with the simmering dread, growing into a powerful heat, which reached her eyes as well.
----
But somehow, in some way she couldn't pinpoint, it made her feel a little better.<br>A little less confused, a little less afraid.<br><br>After a time, the echoes of her shouting faded out. A few final plucks with her right hand, and she<br>dropped it from the strings, her work finished. Her song vanished into the bright sky, the evidence<br>it had ever happened now residing within her near-empty memories.<br><br>She put her other hand to her eyes and rubbed them, shivering, refusing to look at the heavens<br>that had taken her song away.<br><br>But then she gave a laugh. It surprised her. It was an honest laugh—and the smile of a job well<br>done. She wiped her hand on her dress and sighed to herself.<br><br>Man, she hated this place.}}
===6-3===
解锁条件:完成[[#6-2|6-2]],购入[[Scarlet Cage]]单曲<br>解锁要求:通过[[VECTOЯ]]
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这个世界还是那么令人迷惑——那么可怕、空虚而冷漠。<br><br>但现在,她觉得自己已经能够承受它们了。<br><br>她的心里并没有底,但可以肯定,那种恐惧也是她熟悉的东西。<br>她了解这种东西——它会让你双腿打颤、让你吓得跑开、让你无法做出决定、让你成为被它掌控的傀儡。<br>那是对未知的恐惧,是对失败的恐惧。<br><br>她现在只能假设,弹奏这首歌是自己的本能。<br>也许她以前就弹奏过,也许她以前就用咆哮宣泄过恐惧,就用这相同的方式。<br><br>也许她以前也这么做过。至少现在,她觉得自己能应付恐惧了。<br>她现在能更好地掌控自己扭曲的小情绪。如果她希望在这个令人困惑的世界中保持理智,<br>就需要时刻注意情绪,防止自己被恐惧所掌控。不过,恐惧总是如影随形。
----
她呼出一口气,然后调整了一下坐姿,将吉他小心地放在身边,靠在了岩石上。<br>然后,她听到了一声轻轻的叮当声。<br><br>一个小布包掉出了她衣服内侧的口袋,落在了从沙中刺出的岩石上。<br>里面是几根针、一把小剪刀、一个顶针、几卷纺线以及一个卷尺。这是一个针线包。<br>她在刚苏醒时身上就带着它。她只能猜测这个东西是属于自己的。<br><br>她刚发现这个包的时候,心中充满了迷惑。她知道它是干什么用的,但不知道为什么自己会带着它。<br>当然,她“知道”里面的所有东西,但就像自己带着的吉他那样……并没有什么有用的线索能指出它的由来。<br><br>不过现在,当她伸出手想要捡起包时,她看到了自己的袖口,然后身形一凝。<br><br>她……是知道的,不是吗?她知道怎么织出这样的袖口。她知道该如何落下针脚。<br>她知道每一个褶皱的做法。她知道这些颜色具体叫什么。她知道这些衣线就来自于这个针线包。
----
但除此之外就没有然后了。她可以轻松地根据逻辑得出结论,但她的回忆仍然被封锁着。<br>知识与记忆之间存在着残酷的断层……这简直是一种折磨。<br><br><br>不过现在……她不会让这种断层所造成的恐惧席卷自己的内心了。她会承认它,利用它。<br>就算不记得了又怎样呢?重要的是她知道这些东西。<br><br>但是,有一个切实的目标总归是好的。她目前并没有目标,但也许到了某个时候,她也会找到目标。<br><br>她重新动了起来,露出一个发自内心的笑容,一边还在想着这个刚才让她整个人都僵住的针线包。<br>这还挺便利的不是么?至少在这空虚的旅行中,她能保持最佳的着装状态了。<br>想到这里……她的外套并不是很实用,但这是属于她的,她也不会因为这个世界而抛弃它。<br><br>对,这是属于她的。<br><br>它,还有吉他、针线包——在这片记忆的荒原,这些都是属于她的。<br><br>知道这些并没有什么大用,但足够她走过很长一段旅途了。
----
……走过一段路之后,身下的某个东西吸引了她的注意。<br><br>沙中的足迹……<br><br>但它们并不属于她。<br><br>足迹穿过了她的路线,向着左边延伸,尺码显然要小上几号。<br><br>她开始沿着足迹走去,然后看到它们消失在一个小坡后面。<br><br>她的脸上又露出了一个发自内心的笑容。<br><br>哈……<br><br>到头来,自己好像还真有一个观众哎。}}
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The world was no less confusing now—no less intimidating, no less empty, no less merciless.<br><br>But now, she felt like she could deal with it.<br><br>She couldn’t be sure, but she could have sworn that fear was something she was familiar with.<br>She knew things about it—how it could make your legs weak, how it could make you run away,<br>how it could prevent you from making decisions, how it could control you.<br>The fear of the unknown. The fear of failure.<br><br>And she could only assume it had been instinct that had led her to play that song.<br>Maybe she’d done it before. Maybe she’d shouted through her fear before, in much the same way.<br><br>Maybe she had. At least, now she felt like she could handle it.<br>She had a firmer grip on that twisted little emotion now.<br>If she wanted to stay sane in this baffling world, she needed to keep it in check, keep it from<br>controlling her.<br>But it would always be there.
----
She exhaled, then turned in her seat and carefully put her guitar aside, laying it onto the stone.<br>Then she heard a soft clink.<br><br>A small cloth bag had fallen out of her inside pocket to the stone sticking out above the sand.<br>In it were several needles, a little pair of scissors, a thimble, a few spools of thread, and a measure.<br>A sewing kit. It had been with her when she’d first woken up. She could only assume it was hers.<br><br>When she’d first found the pouch, it had just confused her. She knew what it was for, but had no<br>clue why she was carrying it. Each of the accoutrements within was, of course, "known" to her, but<br>like the guitar she carried with her... it hadn’t come with any helpful little notes explaining where<br>it came from.<br><br>But now, when she reached down to retrieve the pouch, upon seeing her sleeve, she froze.<br><br>She... knew, didn’t she? How that sleeve was made. She knew the stitches, she knew all of the folds.<br>She knew the exact colors. She knew those threads were in the sewing kit.
----
But any further connection escaped her. She could easily draw conclusions based on logic,<br>but her mind still felt closed. That cruel disconnect between knowledge and experience...<br>It was agonizing.<br><br>Now, though... Now she wouldn’t let herself be overwhelmed by the fear caused by that disconnect.<br>She would recognize it, use it. So what if she didn’t remember? What mattered was that she knew.<br><br>A concrete goal would certainly help, though. She didn’t have one yet, but maybe, in time,<br>she could find one.<br><br>A grin crossed her face as she started off again, still thinking of the kit which had just made her<br>shiver. Pretty convenient, huh? She could at least keep her clothing intact on this inane journey.<br>And with that thought... her outfit certainly wasn’t practical, but it was hers, and she wouldn’t<br>give it up for the world.<br><br>Yes. It was hers.<br><br>That, her guitar, and her sewing kit—in this wasteland of memory, they were all hers.
----
Knowing that helped a little, and a little help could go a long way.<br><br>...A few steps later, something below her caught her eye.<br><br>Footprints in the sand...<br><br>But they didn’t belong to her.<br><br>Crossing her path, leading off to the left, they were definitely a few sizes off.<br>She stared the way they headed, and saw that they disappeared behind a few gentle hills.<br><br>Another genuine, familiar grin crossed her face.<br><br>Huh...<br><br>Maybe she’d had an audience after all.}}
===8-1===
解锁条件:购入[[GIMME DA BLOOD]]单曲<br>解锁要求:通过[[GIMME DA BLOOD]]
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无月的暗夜笼罩着森林,似乎是想要将熊熊烈火扼杀在小小的村庄里,防止它逃窜到绵延的葱郁之中。<br><br>厮杀、嚎叫。与烈火相对应的是漆黑的身影,恐怖的形貌发出可怕的声音。<br>空气中弥漫着烟尘和惊恐,这让一些人满心只有夺路狂奔的念头。<br><br>但是对她来说,此时此刻内心里所感受到的却是令人刺激与兴奋的战意。<br><br>一道微光闪过,她那黑曜石般的长剑又撕裂了一只模糊的躯壳。<br>它们看似畸形的野兽,奔跑时四肢着地,战斗时又会灵活地利用后肢。<br>她的斩击直接从肩膀处将其一分为二,但对方的残躯尚未落地,<br>便如一道烟尘般散去,进而又融入那片火焰散发出的烟尘中。
----
就算将这些野兽从山火烟尘中化形的原理放在一边,她仍然对它们知之甚少。<br>野兽和野兽之间是很难分辨的。就她目前的了解,击杀对方只会将其本源送回烟尘之中,<br>然后重新变成野兽,就像一切都没有发生过一样。<br><br>她将华丽的剑刃又送入了一只阴影野兽的身体,顺便瞥了一眼背后。<br><br>村民们差不多要穿过森林了,那一边是不知哪个国家或势力的军队,<br>不断推进的前线想必会庇护他们的安全。<br><br>她得保护他们——不能让这股战意前功尽弃。<br><br>她纵身跃起,任由长发随风飘逸着,几乎瞬间跨过了整个战场。<br>就在野兽即将用烟尘般的爪子撕裂一名逃跑的农民时,她及时赶到并斩下了敌人的头颅。<br><br>那个小个子的壮实农妇在逃亡中略一停顿,<br>朝着这位陌生的剑舞者比了个手势——可能是表示感谢吧——然后匆忙逃走了。
----
剩下的事情花不了多少时间。<br>无论她发现自己身处何地,无论所在的世界有着怎样先进的科技,无论哪里的人们信奉怎样的思想,<br>她都只有一个目的:杀、杀、杀,直到斩除所有敌人为止。<br><br>终于,最后一个村民也磕磕绊绊地跑到了挥舞着长矛的士兵面前。她甚至能看到将士们额头上的汗水,<br>眼神中的恐惧……但她也看到了他们在搏杀时透露出的坚毅。<br><br>最后,她总算把剑放下了,吐出一口自己都没意识到的叹息。她知道接下来会发生什么。<br>一阵疲惫快速袭来——比上次更快了。<br><br>四周的世界开始破碎,就好像它原本只是一块玻璃所映射出的虚像。她闭上眼睛,无神地笑着。<br>惨淡的白光缓缓地包围了她……<br><br>……将她迎回了Arcaea的世界。}}
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A moonless night blanketed the forest, trying to smother the fires blazing throughout its sprawling<br>verdure and the village nestled within.<br><br>Crashes and screams. Horrible sounds from horrible shapes, dark against the flames. For some, the<br>smoke-filled air was inundated with panic, driving them to run as fast as their legs could carry them.<br><br>She, however, felt enveloped in something now familiar to her: an unadulterated thrill of battle.<br><br>Her obsidian-colored sword glinted as it cleaved another of the shadowy figures. They were shaped<br>like malformed beasts, running on all fours yet fighting dexterously on hind legs. Her cut severed<br>its shoulders from the rest of its body—but before it could hit the ground, the body dissipated, as<br>though becoming smoke, before rising into the air to join the smoke from the fire.
----
Save for how the beasts appeared to materialize from the smoke of the forest blaze itself, she didn’t<br>know much else about them. There was little to distinguish one from another. For all she knew,<br>killing one would simply send its essence back into the clouds, only for it to come back again as<br>though nothing had happened.<br><br>As she stabbed her ornate blade into another of the shadow-beasts, she spared a glance behind her.<br><br>The villagers were nearly through the forest to the safety of the advancing forward line of some<br>nation or other.<br><br>She needed to protect them—needed to let the thrill within her run its course.<br><br>She jumped, spanning almost a field’s length in a single leap, long hair fluttering behind her, to<br>behead another beast as it raised a smoky claw to gore a fleeing farmer.<br><br>The short, muscular woman paused her escape for just a moment to offer a gesture the<br>sword-wielder wasn’t familiar with—perhaps a sign of gratitude—before scrambling away again.
----
It wouldn’t be much longer now. No matter where she found herself, no matter how advanced the<br>world’s technology and no matter what the philosophy of its people, she always had one objective:<br>slay, slay, slay—until, presumably, the enemy was gone.<br><br>Finally, the last straggler from the village made it to the line of spear-wielding soldiers. She could<br>see from here the sweat on the troops’ brows, the fear in their eyes… but she could see the<br>determination in their postures as well.<br><br>Letting down her sword at last, she exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d kept, knowing what<br>was to come next. She felt the weariness hitting her quickly—and, once again, sooner than the last<br>time.<br><br>The world around her began to fracture, as though it had merely been a projected image made of<br>glass. She closed her eyes and smiled an empty smile. Slowly, she let the pale light engulf her...<br><br>...and welcome her back into the world of Arcaea.}}
===8-2===
解锁条件:完成[[#8-1|8-1]],购入[[GIMME DA BLOOD]]单曲<br>解锁要求:通过[[Bookmaker (2D Version)]]
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迷尔并不知道自己的名字,即使她在来到这个死寂世界之前有什么记忆,现在也都遗失了。<br><br>一块玻璃碎片——就是这次将她卷入其中的那块——绕着她转了一圈,然后就飞向了远处。<br>从经验来看,她再也见不着它了。<br>它们叫作Arcaea——这是它们的名字,她在苏醒后就不知为何地知道这一点——<br>它们似乎展示着处于某些特定状况的纷纷世界。 <br><br>她没法触碰这些碎片,但它们能对自己起效。<br>至今以来,它们已经将自己卷入其中十多次,让她参与到各种世界和事件当中,<br>并且都有着明显相同的目标:击败——不,应该是将敌人碾碎在脚下。<br><br>在每一次的经历中,都不可避免地出现一些无法与她并肩作战的人……<br>不过,比起保护他们的念头,还是战斗的渴望更让人热血上涌。
----
她能如臂指使这把苏醒时就带着的宝剑,虽然也不知道它是从哪儿来的。<br>她能感觉到,自己的剑技实在是超乎寻常。她显然能做到各个世界中的人们力所不能及的事情。<br>事实上,即使是她的敌人,在面对面的决斗中也没法造成多大的挑战。<br>她逐渐意识到,真正困难的地方还是在于是否能保护其他人。<br><br>不过,一旦她进入战斗状态,这些想法就都被抛之脑后了。战斗让她陶醉,沉醉于暴力所带来的快感。<br><br>然而这股喜悦似乎正在以超乎想象的速度褪去,只留下空虚和疲惫,而这要花上许多小时,<br>甚至是许多天去恢复。并且,似乎每一次恢复所需的时间都在加长。<br><br>空虚的乏力感让她开始思索自己被卷入的那些世界。虽然她之前相信它们是完全不同的世界,<br>但近来又有些怀疑。感觉这更像是……她在观看某种影像,并且因为某些原因,她能够与之互动。<br>她能感觉到,真相其实显而易见,她本来应该是知道的,只是现在她还抓不到一丝头绪……
----
她将剑扛上了肩膀,疲惫地望向四周。目光所及之处尽是一片白沙。<br>这是一片褪色的沙漠,就像归来后极度空虚的自己。<br>她背后的足迹仍然和她“穿越”前的样子分毫不差。因为静滞无风,也没法判断过去了多久。<br><br>在这里,似乎时间也没什么意义。<br><br>又是一次召唤。眼前再次充满了白光。<br><br>她兀然出现在了某个地方。<br>战火焦灼的大地,硝烟弥漫的苍穹,四处布设的简易障碍,以及深挖进地面的壕沟。<br><br>她茫然四顾,突然感到一阵乏力。<br>召唤的地点从没这么近,以前也都会冒出些弱小的敌人——就像是舞台上无面的群演,毫无意义,<br>但或许又是那些莫名战斗的唯一意义。更重要的是,她的敌人在哪里?<br><br>这次她的战斗在哪里?}}
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Mir did not know her name, and if she had any memories from before this dead world to<br>remember, they were lost to her now.<br><br>A glass shard—the one that had pulled her this time—briefly spun around her before shooting<br>away into the distance. She knew from experience she wouldn’t see it again. They were called<br>Arcaea—their name a fragment of knowledge from her awakening of which she did not know the<br>origin—and they seemed to show other worlds in the midst of certain situations.<br><br>She couldn’t touch the shards, but they could act on her. Over a dozen times now, they had pulled<br>her inside, bringing her into those worlds and situations, with the apparent reason always the<br>same: to defeat—no, to crush her enemies underfoot.<br><br>Inevitably, each time, there would be those unable to fight behind her... though the idea of<br>shielding them paled in comparison to the driving, blood-racing thrill of the fight.
----
She was skilled with this blade she had woken up with—wherever it had come from. And something<br>told her that she was too skilled. She could clearly do things that others in these worlds couldn’t.<br>In fact, even her enemies didn’t pose much challenge for her in person-to-person combat. The true<br>challenge, she was learning, was in the protection of others.<br><br>But when she was in the fray, such concerns meant nothing to her. She reveled in the battle—let the<br>mirth of violence course through her.<br><br>That mirth, however, seemed to be draining from her more quickly after the fact, leaving naught<br>but emptiness and exhaustion that took what felt like hours, if not days, to restore. And it seemed<br>to be taking longer and longer each time.<br><br>The absence of adrenaline led her to ponder these other worlds she was being tossed into. Even<br>what had previously seemed to her to be fact, that these were other worlds at all, didn’t feel quite<br>right of late. It was almost more like... she was being shown images, ones that for some reason she<br>could act within. The answer was obvious, she sensed, as though she should have known it, yet it<br>was just beyond her grasp...
----
Tired, she hefted her sword onto her shoulder and took a look around. White sand, as far as the<br>eye could see. A desert, drained of its color, mirroring how drained she herself felt upon returning to<br>it. The trail of footprints behind her were exactly as they were before the "spiriting away". Without<br>any wind, it was impossible to tell how much time had passed.<br><br>Not that time seemed to have much meaning here.<br><br>Another calling. Everything turned white again.<br><br>Abruptly, she stood somewhere else. Fields charred brown, smoke in the sky, makeshift fences<br>erected on land and trenches dug into the ground.<br><br>She looked around, suddenly exhausted. The callings had never happened this close together<br>before. And where were the weak ones—that throng of faceless actors on the stage, pointless yet<br>also perhaps the sole reason for being thrown into battle? More importantly, where were her<br>enemies?<br><br>Where was her fight?}}
===8-3===
解锁条件:完成[[#8-2|8-2]],购入[[GIMME DA BLOOD]]单曲<br>解锁要求:通过[[Illegal Paradise]]
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战争。<br><br>迷尔经历过战斗——但从未经历战争。<br><br>她现在看到了,人们以致命的效率相互残杀,有时惊慌躲闪,有时英勇无畏,有时又丑态百出……<br><br>无论她走向哪里,她都发现别人比她弱小。那是些无辜、害怕又太过年轻的面庞。<br>他们看到她,然后又看向别处,好像把她当成了幻觉,一丝海市蜃楼。<br>她试过不顾一切地保护他们,但他们只会自己迈向死亡。<br><br>无论她走向哪里,她都能发现敌人。士兵们会对已经缴械的敌人举起武器。<br>那些与人性毫无关联的可怕兵器以她未能想象的速度散播着死亡。<br>即使她摧毁它们,也只会有更多的兵器从四面八方冒出来。
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她冲向另一群人,那里一群身着蓝衣和红衣的两派人马正在彼此交战。<br>她迅速地做出判断,然后干掉了那些身着红衣的家伙。<br>然而在她身后,刚才救下来的那些人却被一种她从未见过的方式瞬间灭杀。<br><br>就这样消散殆尽。<br><br>在头顶上呼啸着的飞行物,如同倾盆大雨般毁灭着地上的一切。<br>那些飞行物上的徽记和身着蓝衣的人身上的一样。它们发出的火焰迅速地带走了诸多的生命。<br>难道说,它们才是该对付的敌人吗?<br><br>她深呼吸,然后向后挥动手臂,摆出发力的架势。在片刻的瞄准之后,她猛地转动身体,<br>怒吼着向空中掷出长剑。利剑划破空气朝那群飞行物飞去,然后如天国之刃般撕裂了它们,<br>在蔚蓝的天空中绽放出橘色与红色的鲜明火焰。<br><br>然后她看到一群人从飞行物中跳了出来,这让她觉得自己的所作所为依然是错误的。<br>白色从那些人的头顶和背后膨胀开来,随后下落的速度也逐渐放缓。<br>是降落伞吗?但对于红方的武器来说,这都是些简单的靶子而已。<br><br>战意正在,快速地消失。
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疲惫又逐渐占据了她。<br><br>随之而来的还有,绝望——她对战场上的千变万化束手无力。<br><br>茫然——在犯下错误之后,她手足无措,更不知自己究竟要去击败谁。<br><br>恐惧——她害怕自己的决定会导致更糟糕的情况。<br><br>战意消失了。<br><br>就好像一位可靠的伙伴背叛了她,在她危难的关头弃她而去。<br>她双手摸索着,想要找回它。<br>怎么能没有它呢?<br>否则她可就要失去动力了,今后再也无力迈出任何一步。<br><br>她终究还是没能找回它,最后也跟那些受伤的士兵一样,双膝跪地。
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不知多少个小时过去。<br><br>战场上的怒号已经淡去,只留下战后真正的创伤。<br><br>她双手捂住耳朵,想要隔离那些呻吟和哀叫。她闭上眼睛,想要忽略那些惨象和腥味。<br><br>她自言自语着:“这不是我的错,不是我的错。”<br><br>然而……这就是她的错。她觉得自己本来肯定是能做些什么。<br>她也许能改变些什么——想尽办法地去阻止这一切。<br><br>然而,当她思考自己能做些什么时,她发现自己无能为力。<br><br>这样的思绪不断重复,在她的脑海中萦绕徘徊不去。她感觉自己头晕目眩,心慌神颤。<br><br>最后,她的四周再次被白光笼罩,她被送回了Arcaea世界,一如往常。
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她立刻就瘫倒在了地上,大口喘着气。<br>她的剑本来在几小时前就被扔上了天,此刻却也横着掉在她身旁, 在沙子上发出干瘪的碰撞声。<br><br>她闭着眼坐了起来,试图忘记一切,试图放空心神,试图不再理会这片纯白世界。<br><br>她来这里是干嘛的?她为什么会出现在这里?<br><br>自从她苏醒后,她的时间只足够拿来睡眠和思考自己之所以被召唤至此的问题。<br>但她缺失的记忆一直是心头挥之不去的阴霾。<br><br>她本来是想要干嘛的?<br><br>她想了又想,还是想不出来。
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于是她又转过头,看向这片沙漠,盯着背后那条向后延伸出去的脚印。<br>她真希望自己能知道本来的目的地是哪里。<br><br>她不知道的是,她的脚印已经与另一条相连了,虽然距离是有些远。<br><br>但现在,她所能做的只有祈祷。她不知道该向谁祈祷,但她还是如此做着,<br>希望在这片空虚的白色沙漠中,自己能得到哪怕一丝的慰藉。}}
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War.<br><br>Mir had experienced battle before—but never war.<br><br>She now watched people kill one another with deadly efficiency, run for their lives in fear, engage<br>in feats of true heroism, engage in displays of utter dishonor...<br><br>Every way she turned, she found those weaker than her. Innocent, terrified faces, and all too many<br>of them young. They would see her, then look away, as if recognizing her only as a hallucination, a<br>trick of the light. She nonetheless tried to protect them. They would then run to their deaths.<br><br>Every way she turned, she found enemies. Soldiers leveling weapons at disarmed foes. Terrible<br>armaments, disassociated from humanity, delivering death faster than she could have ever believed<br>possible. She destroyed them, and then more would appear on the other side.
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She jumped to yet another group of people, blue uniforms fighting against red, before making a<br>quick judgement and taking down the red ones. Behind, those people she had just protected were<br>wiped out in an instant from a strike she hadn’t seen coming.<br><br>Fading.<br><br>Vessels soared overhead, raining pure destruction down upon the lands. The vessels bore the same<br>insignias as those in the blue uniforms. Their fire swiftly took so many lives. Were they the true<br>enemy?<br><br>Taking a deep breath, she swung her arm back. After a mere moment’s pause to take aim, she spun,<br>hurling her sword into the air with a shout. The blade screamed upward at the small formation—<br>then tore through them, sending wild oranges and reds scattering through the firmament.<br><br>Then she saw the people jumping, and realized her mistake. White flared above and behind them,<br>and their descent slowed—parachutes? But they were easy targets against the red side’s weaponry.<br><br>The thrill was fading. Quickly.
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Exhaustion crept back in.<br><br>And with it, despair—hopelessness at this situation over which she seemed to hold no power.<br><br>Indecision—the uncertainty of knowing what to do after the errors she’d made, and of who it was,<br>exactly, she needed to defeat.<br><br>Fright—the fear that her decisions would lead to something even worse.<br><br>The thrill was gone.<br><br>It felt like a trusted partner had betrayed her. Left her in her moment of need. She reached out with<br>her hands, searching for it. It had to be here. She had no fuel without it. Nothing to give her the<br>strength to take another step.<br><br>Unable to find it, eventually she, like those wounded soldiers, fell to her knees.
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Hours passed. The raging battle was now dwindling, leaving behind the true horror of warfare.<br><br>She put her hands over her ears to protect herself from their moans, their yells. She shut her eyes<br>to block out the sights and smells.<br><br>It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault, she told herself.<br><br>And yet... it was, still, her fault. She surely could have done something, she thought. She could<br>have changed something—anything to prevent this.<br><br>When she tried to think about what she could have done, however, she found she couldn’t.<br><br>And that process repeated, as it had done the last dozen times. She felt her nerves fraying, panic<br>setting in.<br><br>Eventually, her surroundings whitened, and she was sent back into the world of Arcaea in the same<br>manner as all the other times.
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Immediately, she crumpled to the ground, breathing heavily. Her sword, which she’d thrown into<br>the air hours before, dropped down beside her, hitting the sand lengthwise with a dry clap.<br><br>She sat there, eyes closed, trying to forget, trying to make her mind go blank, trying to keep out the<br>sheer whiteness of this damned world’s sky.<br><br>What was she doing here? What did this world want from her?<br><br>Ever since her awakening, she’d only been given the time to ponder her summonings and to sleep.<br>But her lack of memories hung there in the back of her mind like a haunting phantom.<br><br>What did SHE want to do?<br><br>She thought, and thought, and realized she didn’t know.
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So she turned her head to look back along the sands, gazing at the long trail of footprints<br>stretching out behind her. She wished she knew where she was going.<br><br>Unbeknownst to her, however, that trail of footprints had already been joined by another, still quite<br>far off.<br><br>But for now, she prayed. She didn’t know to whom, but she prayed regardless, hoping that she<br>would be granted just a little bit of respite, now, on these empty, white dunes.}}
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