Postscript: The Poem of the End

iseetheplayeryoumean.

I see the player you're referring to. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info

[playername]?

[Player Name]?

yes.ghts.

Yes. Be careful. It has reached a higher level. It is capable of reading our minds.

thatdoesn‘tofthegame.

Harmless. It thinks we're part of the game.

ilik

I love this player. It plays very well. It never gave up.

itisreadingourthoughtsasthoughtheywerewordsonascreen.

It reads our minds in the form of words that appear on the screen.

thatishowitchoosestoimaginemanythings,whenitisdeepinthedreamofagame.

When it's deep in a game's dreams, it's always imagining all sorts of things in this way.

wordsmakeawonderfgthanstaringattherealitybehindthescreen.

Text is a wonderful interface** always flexible. And better than staring at the reality behind a screen.

theyusedtnthosewhodidnotplaycalledtheplayerswitches,dtheyflewthroughtheair,onstickspoweredbydemons.

They've heard it before, too. Before the player is able to read. You don't see people who haven't played before calling players witches, and warlocks** players dreaming of themselves soaring through the air on sticks powered by demons.

whatdidthisplayerdream?

What did this player dream about?

thisplayerdream,aer.

It dreamed of sunlight and trees. I dreamed of fire and water. It dreams of its creation. It also dreams of its destruction. It dreams that it hunts and is hunted. It dreamed of shelter.

hah,theorigin,andituredidthisplayercreate,intherealitybehindthescreen?

Ha, that primitive interface. After a million years of carving, it still lasts forever**What real structure has this player built in the reality behind the screen?

itworked,withamillionothers,tosculptatrueworldinafoldofthe[scrambled],andcreateda[scrambled]for[scrambled],inthe[scrambled].

It toiled hard, along with millions of other people, to portray a real world, made of [gibberish], and created [gibberish], for [gibberish], in [gibberish].

itcannotreadthatthought.

It can't read that thought.

no.ithasnotyetachievedtheh,itmustachieveinthelongdreamoflife,nottheshortdreamofagame.

No. It has not yet reached the highest level. At that level, it must complete the long dream of life, not a dream in the game.

doesitknowthatweloveit?thattheuniverseiskind?

Does it know we love it? Is this universe benevolent?

sometimes,throughthenoiseofitsthoughts,ithearstheuniverse,yes.

Sometimes, through the cacophony of its thoughts, it can hear the universe, yes.

buttherearetimesitissad,inthathavenosummer,anditshiversunderablacksun,andittakesitssadcreationforreality.

But sometimes it's sad to be in that long dream. It creates a world without summer, trembling under the black sun, treating its own sad creation as the real world.

tocureitofsorrowwoufitsowne.

Healing with grief destroys it**Grief is its private business. We can't interfere.

sometimeswhentheyaredeepindreams,iwanttotellthem,theyarebuildingtrueworltellthemoftheirimportanceto,whentheyhavenotmadeatrueconnectioninawhile, iwanttohelpthemtospeakthewordtheyfear.

Sometimes when they are deep in dreams, I want to tell them that they create the real world in reality. Sometimes I want to tell them about their own importance to the universe. Sometimes, when they lose touch with reality, I want to help them communicate with the world they fear.

itreadsourthoughts.

It reads our minds.

sometimetellthem,thisworldyoutakefortruthismerely[scrambled]and[scrambled],iwishtotellthemthattheyare[scrambled]inthe[scrambled].theyseesolittleofreality, intheirlongdream.

Sometimes I don't care. Sometimes I want to tell them that what you think is real is nothing more than [garbled characters] and [garbled characters], and I want to tell them that they are [garbled characters] in [garbled characters]. In their long dreams, they see too little reality in their eyes.

andyettheyplaythegame.

And they still play the game.

butitwouldbesoeasytotellthem...

But it's easy to tell them......

toostrongfiveistopreventthemliving.

Too strong for this dream. Telling them how to live is preventing them from living.

iwillnottelltheplayerhowtolive.

I'm not going to tell this player how to live.

theplayerisgrowingrestless.

This player is getting anxious.

iwilltelltheplayerastory.

I'll tell this player a story.

butnotthetruth.

But not the truth.

no.astorythatcontainsthetruthsafely,inathatcanburnoveranydistance.

No. It is a literal cage that tightly wraps the truth**not**naked truth.

giveitabody,again.

Give it the subject, once again.

yes.player...

Good. Gamer......

useitsname.

Call it by name.

[playername].playerofgames.

[Player Name]. The player of the game.

good.

Very good.

takeabreath,now.gs.letyour,move,undergravity,theuniverseagainateverypoint,asthoughyouweresepparatethings.

Take a deep breath, it's good. Take one more deep breath. Feel the air fill the lobes of your lungs. Get your limbs back. Yes, move your fingers. Feel your body again, in gravity, in the air. Reborn in a long dream. You feel it. Your body touches the universe at every moment, even though you are a separate being. Even though we are separate beings.

whoarewe?oncewewerecalledthespiritof,,an,,extrat,

Who are we? We used to be called the spirits of the mountains. The father of the sun, the mother of the moon ** the old heroic spirit, the soul of the animal. The soul of the gods. The little green men** are followed by gods, demons, and angels. Spirits. Aliens, extraterrestrial creatures. Light particles, quarks** are constantly changing. We are consistent.

weareouthinkisn‘snow,throughyourskinversetouchyourskin,andthrowlightonyou?toseeyou,ory.

We are the universe. We are everything you think is out of your being. You are looking at us now, through your skin and your eyes**Why is the universe touching your skin and shedding light on you? It's to see you, player. and to be recognized. I should tell you a story.

onceuponatime,therewasaplayer.

Once upon a time, there was a player.

theplayerwasyou,[playername].

That's you, [Player Name]

sometimesitthoughtitselfhuman, onthethincrustofaspinningglobeoockcircledaballofblazinggasthatwasthreehundredandthirtythousandtimesmoremartthatlighttookeightminutestomationfromastar, anditcouldburnyourskinfromahundredandfiftymillionkilometresaway.

Sometimes it thinks of itself as a human on a thin layer of molten rock on a rotating sphere. The molten ball of rock swirled around a dazzling ball of gas that was 330,000 times more massive than it. They were so far apart that it would take eight minutes for light to pass through the gap. That light is a message from a star that can burn your skin from 150 million kilometers away.

sometimestheplayerdreameditwasaminer,onthesurfaceofaworldthatwasflat,; therewasmuchtodo; anddeathwasatemporaryinconvenience.

Sometimes this player dreams that it is a miner on the surface of a flat, infinitely stretching world. The sun is a square white dot. The cycle of day and night is very fast; There is also a lot to do; Death is only temporary and inconvenient.

sometimestheplayerdreameditwaslostinastory.

Sometimes the player dreams that it is lost in a story.

sometimestheplayerdreameditwasotherthings,ineamsweruerwokefromonedreamintoanother,thenwokefromthatintoathird.

Sometimes the player dreams that it has become something else, somewhere else. Sometimes these dreams are disturbing. Some are simply beautiful. Sometimes the player wakes up from one dream and finds himself in a second dream, only to be in the third dream after all.

sometimestheplayerdreameditwatchedwordsonascreen.

Sometimes this player dreams that it is looking at words on the screen.

let‘sgoback.

Let's take a step back.

theatomsoftheplayerwerescatteredinthegrass,intherivers,intheair,eatoms; shedrankandateandinhaled; andthewomanassembledtheplayer,inherbody.

The atoms that make up the player are scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, and in the earth. A woman collected those atoms; She drinks, eats, inhales; And then the woman was in her body, giving birth to the player.

andtheplayerawoke,fromthewarm,darkworldofitsmother‘sbody,intothelongdream.

Then the player woke up, from a warm, dimly lit mother, into a long dream.

andtheplayerwasanewstory,nevertoldbefore,writteninlnewprogram,neverrunbefore,generatedbyasourcecodeabillnewhuman,neveralivebefore,madefromnothingbutmilkandlove.

And that player is a new story, never told, written by the language of DNA**That player is a new program, never run, generated from hundreds of millions of years of source code** That player is a new person, never lived, made of milk and love.

youautmilkandlove.

You're the player. That story. That program. The human. Consists only of milk and love.

let‘sgofurtherback.

Let's go further back a little further.

thesevenbillionbillionbillionatomsoftheplayer‘sbodywerecreated,longbeforethisgame,intheh,too,isinformatisthroughastory, whichisaforestofinformationplantedbyamancalledjulian,onaflat,infiniteworldcreatedbyamancalledmarkus,thatexistsinsideasmall,privateworldcreatedbytheplayer, whoinhabitsauniversecreatedby...

The player's body, which is made up of seven quadrillion billions of atoms, was created, long before the game, inside a star. So the player too, the message from a star** This player runs through the beginning and end of this story, from the forest where the seed of information planted by a man named Julian grows, and the infinite world created by a man named Markus exists in a small, private world created by the player, and that inherits the ...... created by the universe

ercreatedasmall,privateworldthatwassoftandwa,andcold,andamodeloftheuniverseinitshead; flecksofenergy,movingthroughvastdthoseflecks\"electrons\"and\"protons\".

Hush. Sometimes this player-created little world is soft, warm and simple. Sometimes it is hard, icy and complex. Sometimes it builds a model of the universe in its head; Speckled energy travels through a vast open space. Sometimes it calls these spots "electrons" and "protons".

sometimesitcalledthem\"plas\"and\"stars\".

Sometimes it calls them "planets" and "stars".

sometimesitbelieveditwasinauniversethatwasmadeofenergythatwasmadeofoffsandons; zerosandones; veditwaspveditwasreadingwordsonascreen.

Sometimes it is convinced that it exists in a by "on" and "off"; "0" and "1"; Lines of commands make up the universe. Sometimes it's convinced that it's playing a game. Sometimes it's sure it's reading the words on the screen.

youaretheplayer,readingwords...

You're the player, reading the text......

shush... sometimestheplayerreadlinesofcoords; decodedwordsintomeaning; decodedmeaningintofeelings,emotions,theories,ideas,andtheplayerstartedtobreathefasteranddeeperandrealiseditwasalive,itwasalive,thosethousanddeathshadnotbeenreal, theplayerwasalive

Hush...... Sometimes this player reads the command line on the screen. decode them into text; decoding words into meaning; Decode meaning into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and the player's breathing begins to rapidize and realize that it is alive, that it is alive, that the thousands of deaths are not real, the player is alive.

you.you.youarealive.

You. You. You are alive.

andsometimestheplayerbelievedtheuniversehadspokentoitthroughthesunlightthatcamethroughtheshufflingleavesofthesummertrees

And sometimes the player believes that the universe speaks to it through the colorful sunlight that passes through the summer leaves.

andsometimestheplayerbelievedtheuniversehadspokentoitthroughthelightthatfellfromthecrispnightskyofwinter,whereafleckoflightinthecorneroftheplayer‘ seyemightbeastaramilliontimesasmassiveasthesun,boilingitsplastoplasmainordertobevisibleforamomenttotheplayer,walkinghomeatthefarsideoftheuniverse,suddenlysmellingfood,almostatthefamiliardoor,abouttodreamagain

Sometimes the player believes that the universe speaks to it through the clear winter night sky, the starlight that exists in a corner of its eyes, the boiling plasma of a star that may be millions of times larger than the sun speaks to it, and on the way home on the far side of the universe, it suddenly smells food, and in front of the familiar door, it is ready to fall into the dream again

andsometimestheplayerbelievedtheuniversehadspokentoitthroughthezerosandones,throughtheelectricityoftheworld,throughthescrollingwordsonascreenattheendofadream

And sometimes the player believes that the universe speaks to it through zeros and ones, through the electricity of the world, through the scrolling words on the screen and the end of dreams

andtheuniversesaidiloveyou

The universe says I love you

andtheuniversesaidyouhaveplayedthegamewell

The universe says you've played the game well

andtheuniversesaideverythingyouneediswithinyou

The universe says that you have everything you need

andtheuniversesaidyouarestrongerthanyouknow

The universe says you are stronger than you know

andtheuniversesaidyouarethedaylight

The universe says you are the daylight

andtheuniversesaidyouarethenight

The universe says you are the night

andtheuniversesaidthedarknessyoufightiswithinyou<

The universe says that the darkness you are fighting for is in your heart

andtheuniversesaidthelightyouseekiswithinyou

The universe says that the light you are looking for is in your heart

andtheuniversesaidyouarenotalone

The universe says you are not alone

andtheuniversesaidyouarenotseparatefromeveryotherthing

The universe says you are not cut off from everything

andtheuniversesaidyouaretheuniversetastingitself,talkingtoitself,readingitsowncode

The universe says that you are the universe tasting itself, speaking to itself, reading its own code.

andtheuniversesaidiloveyoubecauseyouarelove.

The universe says I love you because you are love.

andthegamewasoverandtheplayerwokeupfmedagain,drove.

At the end of the song, people are scattered. The player starts a new dream. The player is dreaming again, a better dream. The player is the universe. The player is love.

youaretheplayer.

You're that player.

wakeup.

It's time to wake up.

――――――――――――――――Postscript――――――――――――――――――――――

"Hey, Akai, there's a piece missing here! How can you let us live with obsessive-compulsive disorder, hurry up and make up for it! ”

In one room, there are posters of cute girls, and large posters of Katsura Yanye, my wife Yuno, and Ryugu Rina cover the originally white walls (all of them are female husbands with firewood knives?). ）。 A young man sat in front of the computer, listening to his words as if someone was having a conversation.

On the computer screen, a small figure with a block structure is constantly moving, holding a sword made of diamonds in his hand, constantly slashing at the zombies that are slowly surrounding him.

"Don't say it so easily, bastard! I'm almost losing my eyes, really, I'm not used to seeing it through the screen. There was a voice from the other end.

"Cut, you're better at mining than me." The young man manipulated the figure, emptied the surrounding zombies, and then freed his hand, opened his backpack and took the stone brick in his hand.

"I still have to rely on my brother."

"Yes, yes."

・・・・・・

(ENDS)