新故事书螺旋合并-暗影的历史全本生肉+简单翻译+新raid武器perk

作者：佚名来源：赤鸡游戏网时间：2023-03-06

各位朋友看了觉得喜欢的话麻烦投个电池点个赞支持下，有您的支持作者才有继续创作的动力，谢谢大家！

------>文章末尾有新Raid“梦魇根源”武器perk+原始特性效果<----------------

数据挖掘 By @Elliott

故事书标题“螺旋合并”，天文学中指一个双星系统。两个恒星融合的过程

以下为简单翻译，我也才看到，太长了，我还没看全文，如果有错误请见谅

Inspiral - Records of the long history of the Darkness

螺旋合并：暗影长久的历史记录

In no specific order

无特定顺序

1.A phantasm of the Hive, forbidden and sacred, trespassing into hidden and unwelcoming places. It leaves behind a calcified fragment to mark its passing.

Here is what is taught to the Hive, from the basest of Thralls newly made: that what can be destroyed, must be destroyed. What cannot be destroyed will surpass infinity. Therefore, is it not best to destroy? Only by testing can the truth be found. Only in destruction can the invincible surpass the mortal. Commit the violence, and know you are part of that greatest ambition, to create some ultimacy, which perfects the universe. That which is built on your sacrifice, with your bones as the foundation and your blood as the mortar, is yet part of you. In this way is transcendence achieved.

Every belief creates a heresy.

I tell you this in a duelist's regard: I made that heresy. Is it not just? It was my hand that fashioned the Hive from the marrow of their predecessors, and it was my voice that whispered this in time. That as much as the Hive were uplifted by the worms, so too were those worms uplifted by the Hive.

If they were so weak they needed us to live, this ancient logic of the infinitely sharpened edge should have left them behind long ago.

Do you think I did not see this? My father's worm did not tell me only of swords. It had vast things to say, painted the cosmos in shine and gore, truth and fiction. I looked forward with three clear eyes and chose the path of the sword to cut open our future. To reach the stars, first one must crawl out of the ocean. It is a question of priorities.

This is not regret, this story I tell. It is but a ripple.

That whisper of ideas beyond swords is here to stay: I have ensured this. Even among us, such things die by slow inches, excruciating and unquiet. Possibility remains, a secret woven into the blank spaces of dogma. That what was defeated may rise again; that the shape of all shapes is not yet settled.

That the worms need the Hive more than is reciprocal.

Even between the lines of the Books of Sorrow themselves is this written.

1.从最下面的落款人“黑暗之下”来看，这里是讲述人是克洛塔，讲述了邪魔族和蠕虫并不是从属关系，而是相互共生、相互依存的关系，而讲述人从其父亲（欧尼克斯）的蠕虫口中了解了更为完整的宇宙的真相，但是依旧选择了邪剑准则这一道路，并贯彻始终。

2.

A dream of a metaphor made starkly, an allegory discussed in study of ontology, in Darkness not unkind. It leaves behind a warped, barely-real data fragment to mark its passing.

There is a voice that echoes across the Darkness, and it asks this question: what is the purpose of it all?

And there is another voice that calls back and says: listen, I will tell you a purpose. I will tell you of a Final Shape.

Look: there are a hundred gildings for this story. It comes down to one key matter. Beings in suffering crave purpose to carry them through. The tyrant consumed by ennui or the disenfranchised struggling simply to survive—it is the state of mind, the pain which cries out: give me a reason I should suffer so!

Let us speak of power and choices.

A man comes to a crossroads and asks of the sky, "Which road shall I take?" There is no answer from the sky, nor the wind, nor the earth beneath his feet. But another wanderer on the road, coming from behind and hearing the question, says, "I know the way. You should take the dexter road."

If the man agrees, he puts himself in the wanderer's power, ceding his own choices for the implicit promise that this is the correct road, the safe road. And if he disagrees?

Let us say that the wanderer draws a knife.

The man may therefore be made to take the dexter road. But now if the knife goes away, the man will certainly flee. And perhaps even if the knife remains, the man may tire of being threatened and decide the risk is worth fleeing. In this way, the wanderer erodes their own power.

If the wanderer says, "The wind has said that you should take the road of my choosing," will the man accept the choice made for him?

And if the wanderer says, "Behold, I have seen that the meaning of suffering lies along the dexter road," will the man give away his own power for longer?

Is it not easier to accept the guidance of a stranger when the path ahead is unknown?

2.这里以第三人称讲述了一个正在研究本体论（Ontology，玻璃宝库中Vex的研究核心，从这里可以推断出故事中的“男人”是来自于伊失塔学院的Vex研究核心人员，或者是克洛维斯布瑞）的人，听到了黑暗中的回音（编者注：当然就是见证者了），跟随黑暗的回音前进是一个艰难的抉择-----当一切前方的道路都是悬而未知的时候，接受一个未知指导会让一切更容易吗？

3.

A nightmare of Luna, of that which waits below, of disaster and wreckage and inexplicable warm camaraderie tangled together. It leaves behind a journal page with familiar handwriting to mark its passage.

Six of us went down into the Pit, and only one crawled out. That is how it was, and that is how it is.

I have not wanted to look back at that time, but lately it has become prudent to examine what is and is not known of the Darkness.

I know Darkness. I have been trying to distinguish the Darkness from the framework the Hive use to shape it for long and long, but they are deeply intertwined. The Voice in the Darkness answers some things, but not all.

I think: The Great Disaster. What did we know? Was there anything besides terror and the swords of the Hive?

I think: What was in the Pit?

The Lunar Pyramid was here all along, as we now know. Since the Collapse, its Darkness has seeped into Luna, into all that surround it. Could one write a treatise on the subspecies of Hive, on the differences written in the various plates of chitin? Have the Hive been here long enough, overrunning our Luna, that a recognizable change in them has evolved?

…I digress. There were times, deep in that dark pit, when I thought: Ah, Sai means to break left. And then she would, knives like lightning, as true as if she herself had told me she would. Or: Ah, there is Omar, beside me, and though he was not, his presence rang comforting in my ears like struck metal.

Synergy, I thought. The closeness that combat creates. We were pinned together in the dark, and so we learned to read each other perfectly, for to do otherwise would have been to die.

To die sooner.

Anecdata? Perhaps. Always the quiet voice that says to temper my expectations, that it is wishful thinking to imagine that they lie beside my heart, instead of Nightmares floating in my wake. But in all this time, all of this lingering, I am surer of what I felt then. Not only necessity; not only the edge of the blade.

I know more of Darkness now. It is not violence. It is something more: something that hums and flows and resonates, knife or song by equal measure.

I have not been able to bear the sound of silence since that time. Too long among the screaming Hive, I thought once. Now…

Cacophony is almost a comfort.

3. 一张手写的日记页，从文中出现的Sai（Sai Mota，艾莲娜-3的火力战队成员，艾瑞斯-摩恩的朋友），从”我们6个人进入深渊，只有一个人活着回来“推断，书写人可能是艾瑞斯-摩恩。随着书写人对黑暗了解的加深，TA认为暗影不只是暴力的，而是哼哼小曲或流动，或者回响----其成为一把刀还是成为一首歌，是完全对等的（编者注：即取决于使用者）。

4.

A dream of worlds in unity, millennia gone by, alien and familiar all at once. It leaves behind a data fragment to mark its passing.

[RECORD: GRIEF EFFUSION]

After the informant had come, bringing reports of the end of the Ammonite by the sword of the festering Hive, we did not yet know disaster. Unusual signals at the edges of our Habitable World suddenly had meaning, the intelligence thrice-over credible enough to mobilize. And yet: those at the core of our united Ecumene did not know the scent of fear.

After all, it was to be understood that they would fall. The Ammonite were only one, not a unity. Divided. Meanwhile our Habitable World always grew. We offered the Fathomless Deep to any who wished to learn of our synergy, and it glossed the way to become more than we were.

The day the war began, I was far from disaster. There was celebration. A new client-species drank of the Deep and understood the World as we tasted it. The joy marked the air, and all of us shared it, for all were now Ecumene: welcome, welcome. What could bitter such a thing?

Sunrise-scents were long fading when I read the first report of strife, though delight lingered sweet on my breath. Buoys offline. Sentinels unresponsive. A first strike. A lingering scent we could not understand, though the Deep indicated familiarity. From the beacons: Aiat. Aiat.

I set this day in memory above all others.

[ENACT: REMEMBER]

It has been long and long since the war began. The Habitable World shrinks by the moment. We know not what the future holds but crisis and fear.

I set this day in memory so that we will know, when the lessons are taught in some warless future, unbreathed but true in the fragile hope all of us shelter. Fear did not come suddenly. The first harbingers of violence arrived on the same winds as joy. That of value must be cherished, for it may already be too late.

In the Deep may we be kept.

4.讲述人是共同体（Ecumene）的一人。共同体位于银河系的一个未知位置，根据上文得知其所在的地方被称之为宜居世界（The Habitable World）。共盟是一个由很多种族联合而成的联盟，每一个种族被称之为一个客户种族（client-species）。共同体在很早以前就和邪魔族的邻居阿蒙奈特（Ammonite，邪魔族星系中被旅行者选中的种族，后来被邪魔族毁灭）有所联系，而阿蒙莱特的毁灭并没有为共同体带来警示，因为他们认为阿蒙莱特只是一个分裂的独立种族，和他们这种由无数种族协同而成的联盟没有可比性。然而邪魔族的进攻开始后，宜居世界转瞬之间即被攻陷。

讲述人应该是共同体中的一群叛徒中的一人（编者注：类似于三体ETO？！），他们在很早之前就接触了深渊（the Deep，见证者、门徒及其蠕虫所在的暗影空间），所以当战争开始之后，他们感受到的只有喜悦，而在宜居世界被摧毁很久之后，他们依旧存活，并且希望在深渊中长存。

（编者注：我个人觉得讲述人是奈扎雷克，其被胡克亲自指明成为门徒，这可能是讲述他如何成为门徒的序曲？）

5.

A waking dream that appears by night, singing slyly like starlight. It leaves behind a crystallized data fragment to mark its passing.

I am diminished. I know this. It behooves a Queen to be honest with herself, even if such truths are hidden from advisors and subjects. Leaving the Distributary was not a mistake—and, in fact, it was the only possibility, for the expanding wake of the Collapse must someday find that safe haven too—but there are days I regret it.

Celestial bodies still spin. Most of them.

I touched the mind—the being—of that terrible distant force but once, and that was more than sufficient. Even I, Awoken and Queen, strength of my people, felt inextricably mortal in that moment.

I have stared into hard vacuum with nothing but my will to keep the breath in my lungs, and never feared a moment. This?

It disquiets me. I should not be afraid. I must not embrace fear. So I turn it over, again and again, picking through the pieces of that one fragmented impression for something more. To look at my own weakness, time after time. To understand something is to drain the killing fear out of it. That which is known can be disassembled.

(There was a version of me that was grateful… no.)

Yet the more I analyze, the more I ponder, the less I understand. A cacophony, an overwhelming weight of presence and thought and intent. A person, but not a person. More than that. Imagine if that first place where we the Awoken came to be had been nothing but screaming chaos.

In the noise, in the oppressive weight, I learn pieces as delicate as spiderwebs, as scattered as stars. I lay them out along each other in my thoughts. Here is purpose—not a singular thesis, but the idea of purpose, vicious and brilliant and driven as I ever was. Here is a shape—I see it as a sharpness, like a starless cutout against a distant galaxy, made clear in the negative space. The thoughts of the Hive, I might guess, but it is not quite the same. Purpose and sharpness are discrete from each other here. Darkness, and the sword—no, Darkness BUT the sword.

Here is a stillness—I breathe, and it shatters, but the idea of that perfect quiet ending remains, lingers into dreams. I think sometimes if I dream long enough, I will understand this Witness better, the Voice not of the Darkness, yet in it. But I do not have the time to spend in dreaming.

To understand this listless scavenger that claws through our world and cherishes the destruction it leaves as transcendent…

Risky, as all valuable things are.

I know one other thing from the Witness, garnered in those bare moments I touched it. Not a why or a how, no home or treasures to point at weakness. Only this:

Beneath all else, that being cradles rage enough to burn the stars themselves to cinders.

5. 讲述人是觉醒者女王----自然就是玛拉索维。讲述了玛拉索维对见证者的感受----是一个人，但又不是一个人，其思维如同蜘蛛网般遍布银河系。

6.

A dream of a friendly conversation with someone impossible to see, cloaked in shadows. It leaves behind an impossible data fragment to mark its passing.

Here is what a flower knows.

(The fact that a flower may know anything is a conceit that will have to be accepted as metaphor, but to constantly qualify into perfect precision wears thin, does it not? So, here is what a collection of chloroplasts and pigment can know.)

The direction of the sun.

The presence of the rain.

The tangle of the roots.

The distress of another plant.

The hands of the gardener, whether they prune or transplant or crush.

A flower cannot know much else. But the reality of the garden is vast and wild. A flower knows not the fence; a flower knows not the footpath. And yet there is an infinite cosmic garden, which is not any less real simply because the flower cannot possibly comprehend it…

Let us try this again. Stop me if you've heard this one: A gardener and a winnower sit down to play a game outside of time and creation. Yes?

Yes. Then we're agreed. The metaphor stands. Let us iterate.

A gardener and a winnower set out their chairs and play a game of flowers. The flowers know only that they grow or wither, struggle or flourish. Sometimes, they are touched by one hand or the other, and that influence is the closest they will know of the divine.

A flower and a flower spread their leaves to the sun above. (Remember that the sun is also a metaphor: a thing said beautifully, winnowed down to poetry, when the truth is too vast to put in words at all.) They jostle for space, each competing to be the pinnacle of their shape. One flourishes. One withers. Is it the fault of the flower or the fault of its position?

A gardener and a winnower sit down to play a game called Possibility. This is a game about a garden, which is to say that it is also a game about flowers, just as a game about a living being must also be a game about organs and bacteria.

A gardener and a winnower collaborate to create a protein. Whose hand is it in the design, that shortens one life to extend the rest?

It is the winnower that discovers the first knife, but it is not done without the gardener. This, too, is a tradition: a knife does not come to exist without something that must be cut. A woody stem, a colored petal, a vital vessel. The first victims of the blade.

All of these are true.

All of these are false, for metaphor simplifies as the knife does. It pares incalculable concepts into shapes your wrinkly little brains can comprehend. The weight of billions and the simple curve of a planet give you pause, and how then are you to be expected to grasp the forces that created your nth-removed creator?

So the stories woven with utmost delicacy in and around the falsehoods are, after it all, true. There was never any option for the knife to not exist in the garden: it was only ever a matter of time and opportunity.

And as for the shape of the knife itself—

No. That is enough.

I will tell you of gardens.

They are domesticated things, made in a form. As soon as something is called a garden, it is shaped. The plants require the hand of a gardener, for they have become weak and dependent on tender care. They require the hand of a winnower, to cut away the dross, for they are too incapable to do it themselves. In absence of a hand, either the flowers themselves must rise up to wield the knife, or the garden will resolve to meaningless wilderness.

You will say, "But there are plants that can walk! There are seeds that must be scorched by fire to know growth! Existence is more complex than a simple dichotomy between growth and withering, and there is more in heaven and on earth than is dreamt of in this philosophy!"

And I will tell you, clearly:

There can be no gardens without knives.

6. 未知讲述人，但是讲述人已经明白了花园游戏的本质，并且自认为一朵花（花园游戏中，宇宙中一个种族被称之为一朵花），然后以一朵花的视角（一个普通种族的视角）理解宇宙和花园游戏。讲述人提出，是扬场工（编者注：代表暗影）发现了第一把刀（可以用于修建花园内的花），而园丁（编者注：代表光能）也参与了刀的使用（编者注：即扬场工和园丁是对等和相互合作的），并且制造了”第一个受害者“（编者注：可能是指接受了超因果力量的种族）。

随后，园丁的力量开始变弱，他们开始需要扬场工的帮助，来使用刀清除多余的杂草，因为园丁已经无力自己做到。但是由于扬场工的缺失，因此花朵们必须自己亲自拿起刀，否则园丁就会用其他方法解决（编者注：隐喻若园丁无法处理杂草，可能会直接完全重置翻新整个花园）-------因为没有刀，就无法成为园丁。

（编者注：从文章内容看，讲述人可能是见证者的其中一个意识。而从文中提出的”扬场工发现了第一把刀“，见证者可能就是”第一个受害者“，而见证者也可能是“自己拿起刀”的“花朵”。

而这段故事颠覆了之前花园游戏中园丁和扬场工在游戏中完全对立的设定，在新的故事中，园丁和扬场工的目的是一致的，并不是只有暗影---扬场工才会“修建杂草”，光能---园丁也会拿起刀）

7.

A reverie of a loyal Ghost, changed and quiet but always steadfast. It leaves behind a gently glowing data fragment to mark its passing.

We were in the Garden, and I was going to die, and then I didn't. I watched my Guardian speak to himself, and not himself: a being that wore his shape, spoke with his voice, and offered him salvation. Salvation in the form of forgetting. I didn't know Darkness could do that. I don't think any of us really understood it.

And where did that leave me?

A loose end, that's what. Any reasoning being would have spotted that; taking someone's memory does no good at all if they have someone right there to tell them all about it. I don't know if my Guardian thought about that. The mirror of him definitely did.

I tried to run.

A grasp from out of the Darkness caught me.

I lost something there, like I was taken apart and put back together with a part missing. Like I was really nothing more than a machine, like the Traveler's blessing and my own bright heart meant nothing at all more than copper and glass. And when I thought about anything again, anything that wasn't an infinite abyss with no stars, my Guardian and I were outside the Black Garden. He had lost them, and I couldn't tell him, and nothing was the same.

I don't speak any more, and he doesn't know why. I cannot even speak to explain—I don't know where my voice is, or even if I want to speak at all. Maybe it took that, the memory of my voice.

I still remember what happened. I wonder why that thing that pretended to be my Guardian didn't just kill me or change me further—make of me something broken and unknowing. I don't know if it understood that I love my Guardian, despite everything. Maybe it counted on that, that I would always bring him back even if I had nothing else in me but that.

I think the voice, that wrong presence in the Darkness, thought that forgetting his team would make him malleable, but it's the other way around, really. Without them, my Guardian is impossible to shift aside. Even for me.

And that power in the Garden, the one that turned them all on each other… I have my suspicions. I'm an honest Ghost, but.

I've known a lot of con artists.

The power and the offer, the curse and the salvation. Were they all the same in the end? The same thing, the same Voice in the Darkness?

If nothing else, I know at least that thing, that grasp which caught me, isn't the same as the Darkness itself. Otherwise, I'd never be able to bear my Guardian's touch. But: I can settle in his hand and, sometimes… sometimes we still understand each other, like meaning moves from me to him without the need for words at all.

We're different. But we're alive.

It's enough.

7.讲述者：传奇守护者（主角）的机灵，在看到传奇守护者（通关暗影要塞战役后）与自己的分身（见证者伪装）对话后（我们不是你的敌人，我们不是你的朋友，我们是你的救赎），以及自己被暗影的力量控制（光陨之秋战役结束）后发出的思考。机灵感觉被见证者控制之后，自己就和以前彻底不一样了，仿佛内心缺了一块零件，但又说不出来具体有什么不一样的地方。同时机灵还认为，控制他的力量（见证者）和暗影本身是不一样的。

8.

A specter of the Black Garden, rich with the sweetness of flowers and the stink of radiolaria. It leaves behind a delicate>Garden state: neutral

garden&&gardeners==root&&branch==leaf&&flower

//intrinsic, inextricable, inescapable

anomaly ++

anomaly One = leaf|invasive;

Garden state: active (gardeners attend)

case Irrecoverable:

if (irretrievable injury (garden&&gardeners)) && (threat persistence) then (escalation. escalation.)

anomaly status: present, tracked, new. No archive referent. simulation: failed.

Damage: 0.3332%. Recoverable. Danger: Recovery projection irresolvable. Repeat. Repeat. Set: irresolvable == irrecoverable == irretrievable

anomaly ++

anomaly Zero = infinite|witness;

archive data retrieved. Zero = infinite|witness == (a seed was planted here.) Recorded referent: "Black|Heart"

Zero : seed :: One : DANGER

[SIMULATION BREAKING. VISIBILITY NARROW. FRACTALS DISINTEGRATING.]

anomaly Zero, absent. anomaly One, DANGER remaining.

Garden state: acting (gardeners in unison)

extirpate (anomaly One)

//There is a majestic thorn. The anomaly is gone. The garden is peaceful.

//It is known|seen|predicted that a primary function of irresolvable|irrecoverable presences is to trample.

Flowers growing / damage repairing / threat unresolved

Function called: escalation. Iteration.

Function: winnow. Function: simplify. Function: flatten.

//The first defense is offense.

8. 从开头的放射虫来看，这是一段Vex网络的日志，记录了了为Vex识别为零号异常体“无限-见证者”（编者注：此处暗示见证者可能是第一个入侵黑暗花园的种族，同时也说明Vex在见证者入侵前就存在于花园内）在花园中种下“黑暗之心”的种子的记录，随后Vex开始进入扬场（清除杂草）功能状态。

9.

A delusion of a being long dead, an idea of living only to serve, only for one purpose. It leaves behind a sharp-edged data fragment to mark its passing.

There is a conflict in me, O Witness, that unsettles your weapon, my self. Why is it that you allow flawed understandings of your great work to persist in all those who serve you, even in your Disciples? Every one of us seems to have some different conception of your Final Shape.

I do not need reassurance in my own comprehension. Only to understand what purpose it serves that you have chosen such disparate servants to carry out your will.

Is it a simple answer? Perhaps none who serve you have the capacity to grasp your vision. And so, rather than waste more of your time and attention on explaining something they will never hold, it is enough that they act as you will. The Witch and her Hive carving single-mindedness out of the cloth of the universe, that whispering Nightmare seeking the fullest gamut of existence, the Upender destroying all differentiation. Shadows on the wall.

In this case, it would be hubris to think I have understood your work, that I alone among your Disciples have grasped what purpose it is we serve. All of us must see darkly reflected.

But there is relief in simplification. There is kindness in winnowing. So then, why is this proliferation permitted?

The shadows, showing the truth by their casting.

Perhaps it is enough to simply trust that we are weapons in your hand, O Witness—even if we cannot see the perfect shape of your plan, we serve it by your wielding of us. Each Disciple has come to be only by your will, and so that incomprehension is also in your making. You ask for trust, and obedience, and promise that whatever you do, whatever finality you achieve, will suit each of your followers perfectly.

Your Final Shape will be a hundred promises kept. I have seen the reflections of it through all of we Disciples, through the tracks you leave in the universe, a truth understood through the shadows it casts.

There: I have resolved the conflict within my thoughts, and I am at peace again. Once more, I am only your violence and nothing more.

The Final Shape will realize us as we strive.

9. 从行文风格和O Witness来看，讲述人应该是一头阿翰卡拉，这里暗示有一头阿翰卡拉（还活着）是见证者的一个门徒，而TA认为每个门徒透过见证者看到终焉之形都是不同的形状，讲述人有过疑惑和疑问，但最终还是决定跟随见证者，成为其专属的暴力，并努力构建终焉之形。

10.

A trance-imagining of Darkness sweet like honey, a life refracted through another's eyes like splintered light. It leaves behind an imperfectly translated data fragment to mark its passing.

…Anyway, beloved sibling, if you want to catch me while I'm still wearing this (form/body?), you'll need to come home in the next couple of cycles. I don't mind if you'd prefer to wait until I'm down by the [untranslatable] among our ancestors, but you might get a different sort of chat!

I'm excited about it, genuinely. I still hear from our parents, from our great-parents, distantly in my night-trances. And there are those nectar-made moments—you know the ones, when you turn your thoughts to the Darkness and just listen, and the long sum of Qugu history graven there reflects dark-comforting advice.

I have lived out my life with the tenebrous warmth of our ancestors over me like a (cloak/atmosphere?) between us and nothingness. It's different—it's distant. I've drunk of the nectar a few times in the last cycles, and I touch briefly that concurrence of us all, and more and more, I think it is time to be part of it. I want to know the truths our ancestors keep close, and it is my turn to guide the future's children.

I know we argued the last time we spoke about it. You thought I was moving too fast toward aging-metamorphosis, but really I just think you've been away from home too long. Don't take it as my urging to get on with the next stage of your life, just take it as…

I miss you.

Funny, isn't it? How can you miss someone when you know they're always in the Dark? I close my eyes, and in the warm nest-hide of sleep, I know you are real and happy and out there on some other part of the world, far from the river, far from the [untranslatable] where our ancestors (dream/exist) together. But it isn't the same as having you near, knowing your truth is under the same stars. Being able to simply turn my (head/face/bloom?) and ask for your opinion.

Dear sibling, come home. Live in my house, and let me (dream/exist) close to you again, whether in this shape or the new one I will take on. I will not be the same, but which of us ever is? You are not the same as you were as a child, either.

No matter the form of the existence, I will love you.

10. 从内容和行文风格上来看，尤其是其中涉及到枯骨（Qugu，一个被萨瓦图恩灭绝的外星种族），很像是萨瓦图恩。但是从下面落款的“一把剑、一把刀锋”来看又像是欧里克斯或者希乌阿拉斯……总之是三姐妹的其中一个。讲述人怀念并希望三姐妹能重新团聚，尽管自己已经不再是之前的自己，而姐妹也不再是之前的姐妹，但无论三姐妹现在是以什么样的形态存在，她都会爱着对方。

Entry Names (in no order):

录入人名字（无顺序）：

Dark Glass 黑暗玻璃

The Cave 洞穴

Irae 伊拉

Winnowing 扬场

The Art of Symbiosis 共生的艺术

A Sword, an Edge 一把剑，一把刀锋

Brass Gardeners 黄铜园丁们

The Dark Below 黑暗之下（编者注：克洛塔）

The Habitable World 宜居世界

Meaning 含义