Story Reader / Alternative Interpretation / Derived from Matrix / Story
Phantom Sea
>In the hush of darkness, wrapped in a tranquil yet faintly forlorn reverie.
Limbs numb, eyes too heavy to open, heart adrift without a home.
Drifting, letting your memories roam deeper, questing until they're adrift.
Space fades, time loses its grip, and even existence feels like an afterthought.
Amidst the vast void, a distant shore beckons with a haunting melody.
As the notes touch the water's surface, ripples take on a faint glow, weaving dark currents into intricate patterns.
The shapes sculpted are heartbeats, bodies, and breaths.
The cast shadows are pulsations, fears, and wanderings.
Layers of reality shift, drawing nearer to the haunting song.
At last, the melody fades, replaced by a fragile rhythm.
Ready to embark on the journey? Alongside that girl.
Like the somber toll of an ancient clock, time weighs heavily on the dream's edge.
You'll edge closer to the truth and pay the price, but not before...
Memories slowly return from the void, heart pounding fiercely.
Remember the purpose of the journey.
Distant lights flicker in solitude, your own breath the only sound.
Choose.
A stranger's voice fades, light emerging in the darkness.
Emerging from slumber, your gaze meets eyes as crimson as a blood moon.
A peculiar girl stands before you, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.
The ticking of the clock persists, its echo resonating through the spacious room.
The girl's lips tremble, eyes narrowed in curiosity as she watches you.
What a peculiar rendezvous, awake yet tangled in dreams, huh?
So, Chosen One, tell me. What did you see on the flip side of this serene land?
All whimsical stuff kids cook up. Still stuck in childhood?
Me? I'm no kid! Open your eyes and take a good look.
She gestures to the subtle package lines on her shoulder.
Get it? Judging by looks is a bad habit, gotta shake that off!
Anyway, as a thank-you for sharing your dream, let me introduce myself.
I'm Jetavie, and for some reason, fate's brought us together here.
Well, guess it's all written in the stars.
Hello, Chosen One.
Jetavie, hands tucked behind her back, whips out a can of milk out of nowhere.
Her expression turns freaky.
Jetavie saunters over, shoving a milk bottle in your mouth and pouring milk.
Don't fight it, you're pretty weak right now. More milk is good for you.
That's it, keep chugging, it'd be a shame to waste it.
Hahaha, look at you, like a baby... Not a bad look, though.
Jetavie, trying to stifle her giggles, suddenly cracks up, hand flying to cover her mouth.
Impressive, you shake off that weirdness without missing a beat.
You totally cool with this or just clueless about the danger?
Either way, staying calm like this is a rare trait.
Jetavie gives a little curtsy to apologize, showing a whole different level of grace from her earlier rudeness.
Chosen One, get up and scope out your surroundings.
Seriously, you got zero clue what's going on?
Under Jetavie's guidance, your gaze wanders across every nook of the room...
It's a roomy space decked out in light tones, where simplicity and elegance take center stage.
Pale sofas, walls, ceilings, and doors dominate the scene, except for one standout feature...
A mammoth black clock hanging dead center, way too big for comfort.
Ah, caught it, huh? You saw that clock too, right?
Silver-haired Jetavie, now at your side, shoots you a concerned glance, her gaze fixed on the ominous clock.
Despite its clash with the room's aesthetic, it's a necessary evil, a constant reminder of the ticking clock.
Not a run-of-the-mill timepiece, just a facade crafted by me.
With a snap of Jetavie's fingers, the rustic clock morphs into a screen flashing red digits.
See? Clearer, isn't it?
Precisely, a countdown.
As Jetavie talks, those numbers on the screen keep shifting.
See, it's as simple as that.
They keep dropping until they hit zero.
What happens if they hit zero? Well, it's game over for the world.
You seem a bit groggy. "Game over" means exactly what it sounds like—over, no more, nada.
Poof, like a bubble popped with a pin, everything just vanishes into thin air.
Can't wrap your head around it? Picture this: world's gone, you, me, everything, all gone like bubbles.
No need to tell you that.
Or rather, not my place to tell you, and you'll figure it out soon enough.
Like hapless bubbles.
Jetavie puts a finger to her lips, miming blowing a bubble.
Chosen One, the world beyond this room isn't the peaceful paradise you might've hoped for.
Even this room's just a brief respite in the eye of the storm of chaos.
It won't hold up for long, soon crumbling into something unrecognizable.
This is about as far as my skills go. If we linger...
This safe haven might just become our tomb.
So, we've got no choice but to leave, and there's not much time for you to get ready.
But hey, don't stress too much. No matter what goes down, I've got your back, always.
That means Jetavie's tagging along to witness every twist and turn of your journey.
Doesn't really matter what I am, but "companion" sounds about right.
Neither foe nor friend, just an observer by your side.
Uncovering the truth of this world before the countdown hits zero, obviously.
For you, for your past and future selves, it's all the same.
The time on that dark screen keeps ticking down...
With silver hair and crimson eyes, Jetavie flashes that devilish grin again, extending her hand toward you.
Come on, Chosen One, time to hit the road.
After a beat of hesitation, you grasp Jetavie's hand.
Ah, that's more like it.
And don't let go too easy from here on out.
With a jittery heart, you make your way to that door...
