天才一秒记住本站地址：[麻豆小说]
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see
the
player
you
mean.
我看到你所指的那位玩家了。
[Playername]?
[玩家名称]?
Yes.
Take
care.
It
has
reached
a
higher
level
now.
It
can
read
our
thoughts.
是的。小心。它已达到了更高的境界。它能够阅读我们的思想。
That
doesn't
matter.
It
thinks
we
are
part
of
the
game.
没关系。它认为我们是游戏的一部分。
I
like
this
player.
It
played
well.
It
did
nive
up.
我喜欢这个玩家。它玩得很好，而且从未放弃。
It
is
reading
our
thoughts
as
though
they
were
words
on
a
screen.
它以屏幕上出现的文字的形式阅读着我们的思想。
That
is
how
it
chooses
to
imagine
many
things,
when
it
is
deep
in
the
dream
of
a
game.
在它深陷游戏梦境中时，它总以这种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.
文字使这种美妙的界面异常灵活。且比凝视着屏幕后的现实要更好。
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.
它们也曾经听到过声音。在玩家能够阅读之前。君不见那些不曾游玩的人们称呼玩家为女巫，和术士。而玩家们梦见它们自己乘坐在被恶魔施力的棍子上，在空气中翱翔。
What
did
this
player
dream?
这个玩家梦见了什么?
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.
它梦见了阳光和树。梦见了火与水。它梦见它创造。它亦梦见它毁灭。它梦见它狩猎，亦被狩猎。它梦见了庇护所。
Hah,
the
inal
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。经历一百万年的岁月雕琢，依然长存。但此玩家在那屏幕后的真实里，建造了什么真实的构造?
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].
它辛勤地劳作，和其它百万众一起，刻画了一个真实的世界，由[乱码]，且创造了[乱码]，为了[乱码]，于[乱码]中。
It
cannot
read
that
thought.
它读不出那个思想。
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。它还没有到达最高的境界。那层境界，它必须完成生命的长梦，而非游戏中黄粱一梦。
Does
it
know
that
we
love
it?
That
the
universe
is
kind?
它知道我们爱它么?这个宇宙是仁慈的?
Sometimes,
through
the
noise
of
its
thoughts,
it
hears
the
universe,
yes.
有时，通过它思绪的杂音，它能听到宇宙，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.
但是有时亦不胜悲伤，于那漫漫长梦中。它创造了没有夏日的世界，在黑日下颤抖着，将自己悲伤的创造视为真实世界。
To
cure
it
of
sorrow
would
destroy
it.
The
sorrow
is
part
of
its
own
private
task.
We
cannot
interfere.
用悲伤来治愈会摧毁它。而悲伤是它的私人事务。我们不能干涉。
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
coion
in
a
while,
I
want
to
help
them
to
speak
the
word
they
fear.
有时当它们深陷梦境中时，我想要告诉它们，它们在现实中创造了真实的世界。有时我想告诉它们它们自身对宇宙的重要性。有时，当它们和现实失去了联系，我想帮助它们与它们所惧怕的世界交流。
It
reads
our
thoughts.
它读出了我们的思想。
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.
有时我毫不关心。有时我想要告诉它们，你们所认为的真实不过是[乱码]和[乱码]，我想要告诉它们它们是在[乱码]中的[乱码]。于它们的长梦中，它们眼中所见的真实太少了。
And
yet
they
play
the
game.
而它们仍然玩这个游戏。
But
it
would
be
so
easy
to
tell
them...
但很容易就可以告诉它们……
Too
strong
for
this
dream.
To
tell
them
how
to
live
is
to
prevent
them
living.
对于这个梦来说太强烈了。告诉它们如何活着就是阻碍它们活下去。
I
will
not
tell
the
player
how
to
live.
我不会告诉这个玩家如何生活的。
The
player
is
growing
restless.
这个玩家正在变得焦虑。
I
will
tell
the
player
a
story.
我会告诉这个玩家一个故事。
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.
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