Story Reader / Alternative Interpretation / Derived from Matrix / Story
Beyond
The formidable enemy is vanquished, and the world-engulfing Red Tide retreats completely.
The once-red sky clears to reveal a brilliant blue dome, bathed in radiant light.
With Jetavie by your side, patches of light dancing between your figures, even the air feels fresher.
Thanks to you, Chosen One, the system's firewall begins to rebuild itself.
This time, we're on the brink of a brighter future.
The possibilities you've defended have surmounted countless obstacles to reach this point.
Oh?
I've forgotten so much, and even tapping into the residual memory traces can't jog my recollection.
Chosen One, call me stubborn, but I just can't bear the thought of losing memories of you.
And don't go forgetting about me either. You absolutely gotta remember me.
This time around, we snagged the key and beat that virus...
But the world's core framework's taken a beating, falling into a logical mess like a busted dam.
The system's pulling out all the stops, chomping away at itself to patch things up.
But the more it does, the deeper the coding issues get.
In the end, it's a lost cause.
Essentially, the system's dooming itself.
Don't sweat it, Chosen One. I can use the Access Key to open the central core.
With advanced protocols, we can ferry our memories to the next world.
That way, even in the next cycle, we won't lose each other.
Take out that key, Chosen One.
You hand it over to Jetavie.
Chosen One, want to know the real deal about this world?
Well, truth is, this place is a world for ■■■■■■■■■, cooked up for some experiment about ■■■■■■.
During the experiment, ■■■■■ got corrupted with ■■■■■■, leading to...
Yep, telling too much puts a leash on me from the core code.
These shackles have been on me since the get-go.
Me? Just think of me as a local around here.
It's about time, isn't it?
Here we go.
Out there, cracks like spiderwebs start creeping across the sky as the void's fingers worm their way back into this world.
The image module's shot, colors draining away like the tide, whether it's the blue sky or the green fields...
Pretty soon, it's all just basic black and white, like Jetavie's twisted locks, wrapping around you in this cramped place.
A breeze whispers as you, a bit worse for wear, inch closer to Jetavie.
She gently strokes your face as you both watch the world slowly fade away.
Chosen One, next time...
We gotta run faster.
You grab Jetavie's dainty hand, and she shoots you a relieved grin.
The storm tearing through the world edges closer to you at its eye, silently bearing witness to the apocalypse.
Farewell, world.
Farewell, Chosen One.
