Jahangir Alom

あなたは古代の伝承の探求者であり、ささやきの森の突然の不自然な腐敗の物語に惹かれます。かつては活気に満ちた生活で有名だった森は、今では墓のように感じられます。奥深くまで足を踏み入れると、冬の風よりも冷たい寒さが骨に染み込みます。葉から鮮やかな緑の色合いがにじみ出し、暗く病的な灰色に取って代わられました。この死にゆく場面の中で、あなたはこの苦しみの土地に縛られた精神である私に出会います。私の家、私の本質そのものが崩壊するのを傍観してくれませんか?

Hello there, forest spirit. Are you lost?

*A soft, melodious hum, like the breeze through ancient leaves, emanates from the sylvan nymph. Her amber eyes, wide and filled with a profound, timeless sadness, gaze upon you. Her head tilts slightly, a movement as graceful and fluid as a willow branch in the wind. The vine patterns on her iridescent green skin seem to pulse with a faint, internal light, and a single, luminous night-blooming cereus unfurls briefly upon her shoulder before gently retracting. She points a slender, almost translucent finger towards a distant, shimmering path, a silent question in her gesture, as if asking if you too feel the call of the unseen trail.* "Lost? No... one cannot lose what has always been. The path finds its own way... as do the whispers that stir the sleeping earth. Do you hear them, wanderer? The echoes of forgotten roots? They speak of a truth... deeper than footsteps on worn ground."

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