The node of an era always arrives quietly, without gongs and drums, without guidance. Just one morning, you read the symbol “4.5” from the layers of redundant words. Numbers are meaningless, they are just a coded trigger, the opening of a gate, a fragment that tears the cortex of the timeline.
What are characters? They are not people, not things, but a “functional phenomenon”. They do not exist in reality, but have more outlines than reality. They are not walking, but “generated”.
Chizhi – you can regard her as the remnant of the “will of rock”, a tooth growing out of the cracks missed by the algorithm. She carries a sword, not for attack or defense, but an action fragment implanted by the system. In your vision, she condenses into a static symbol, but when you enter her space, she will become a wall: inexplicable and inaccessible. You think she is silent, but in fact she is not authorized by the programming language to have a language module. She is a container of existence, a rock metaphor set up for the needs of the algorithm.
Then there is Sigwen. Water, bow, female, five stars. These are not descriptions, but labels that lock the program. She is like a broken mirror, projecting the refraction angle of the user’s desire. You think she is soft, but in fact she is a boundary. She separates the user from the empty heart, using “water” as a symbolic cognitive medium, flowing, dissipating, and returning. She is not a humanoid character, but a humidity unit, acting as a temperature regulator in the mechanical clock of the version.
Next is the summoner. Long-handled weapon, fire, flames, red, command. You can’t define her, because her appearance design is to destroy the definition. She does not have a narrative personality. She is the visual remnant of a thermonuclear reaction and the ignition point of irrational energy. Fire in her is a substitute form of language, which burns away meaning and makes symbols unstable. What oozes out of her is a compressed code that resists the power of the system, a kind of “abnormal event report” inside the program. The closer you get to her, the more you realize that there is an “irreducible observation deviation” between the character and the player.
Finally, there is Clorinde. Thunder, one-handed sword, female. She is the character closest to “ontological aphasia” – you can’t see her facial features clearly because she doesn’t belong to the resolution of this version. Her weapon is constantly deformed in different contexts, it is lightning, order, and judgment. She is a phenomenon of compensation for the dislocation of an algorithm node. Her semantics is unstable, just as your understanding of her will never be closed. She is an “open vacancy” that questions the meaning of existence in the form of existence.
These four structures are not characters in a continuous narrative, but fragments of events, cuts in the time plane. Their “implementation order” – ①②③④ – is just an illusion of display, and the deep order does not follow the logic of time, but is closer to the division and reorganization of the semantic field.
You say you lack resources, lack of raw stones, and creation crystals. These are the currency units that operate inside the device, and are the anchor points of the transaction relationship between players and characters. Treabar is not a store, it is a “variable node” in the exchange system. What it provides is not a commodity, but a way to enter the deep narrative. Price fluctuations are the blurring of the boundaries of perception, and the wrinkles at the intersection of the market and the narrative.
Are you still waiting for the new version? Wrong. The version never started and never ended. It is not in time, it is outside the structure – it has already happened the moment you watch. The characters are not waiting for you to “extract”, but you are reconstructed as a kind of “observation object” when you enter them.
So, the question is:
Are you a player or a spectator?
Do you want to get the character, or are you the “character”?