avowed：声の申し出を受け入れるか拒否しますか？
avowedの早い段階で、大使を救い、「Afar From Afar」クエスト中に恐ろしいクマのボスを征服した後、あなたはあなたに選択肢を提供する神秘的な声に遭遇します：その力を受け入れるか拒否します。このガイドは、各決定の意味を分類します。
声を承認したり拒否したりする必要がありますか？
音声との最初の会話は、負傷者や感染した人々に対処するためのアプローチに集中し、ゲームの物語の中であなたの哲学的スタンスを微妙に明らかにします。その後、声は電力交換、つまり恩恵を提案します。声の謎めいた性質を考えると、この決定は簡単ではありません。ただし、一般的に声の力を受け入れることをお勧めします。
声の力を拒否した場合はどうなりますか？
声の力を受け入れるとどうなりますか？
選択には長期的な影響がありますか？
当然、あなたはあなたの選択の長期的な結果について疑問に思うでしょう。現在、ネタバレを明らかにすることなく、この単一の決定がAvowedの全体的な物語を大幅に変えることを示唆する証拠はありません。それは、エンティティとのより広範で進化する関係の一部を形成します。このガイドは、詳細情報が表示された場合に更新されます。
最終的に、 Avowedの声の力を受け入れるか拒否するかの決定はあなたのものです。ただし、現在の理解に基づいて、オファーを受け入れると、より有利な結果が得られます。
Avowedは現在入手可能です。
最新記事
Two Embers – Part 1
By [Your Name]
The wind howled across the shattered plains of Eldryth, carrying with it the scent of ash and forgotten prayers. Once, this land had bloomed beneath twin suns—golden and silver—cradled in the arms of the sky. Now, only two embers remained: one buried deep in the heart of the Obsidian Spire, the other flickering faintly in the chest of a girl who did not know her name.
She awoke beneath a sky split in two.
One half burned crimson, the other wept silver mist. The earth cracked like old parchment, and from the fissures rose whispers—voices not of men, nor beasts, but of memory itself. Her fingers curled around a shard of obsidian, warm to the touch, humming with a rhythm that matched her pulse.
She didn’t remember how she got here. She remembered nothing—not her mother’s lullaby, not the sound of her first breath, not even the shape of her face in the still pools of long-dead lakes.
Only the ember.
And the dream.
“When the twins fall, the world will wake,” the dream whispered. “But not as it was. Not as it should be.”
She sat up. The shard pulsed. Her reflection shimmered within it—not a face, but a storm: a woman with hair like flame and eyes like dying stars.
“You’re not real,” she said, voice cracked from disuse.
But the reflection smiled.
And spoke.
“I am you. I am what was lost. I am what was never meant to be found.”
She stumbled to her feet, wind tearing at her tattered cloak—the color of dust and midnight. Around her, ruins of a cathedral rose from the earth, its spires fused with bone and blackened iron. The name carved into its fallen arch read: Aetherion.
Her hand trembled as she touched the stone. A vision tore through her:
A war not of swords, but of light.
Two beings—twin stars forged in fire—clashing in the sky. One wore the face of a god, the other… a child.
She gasped.
And the ember screamed.
From the east, a sound like a thousand bells made of glass. A procession of shadows moved across the horizon—hooded figures with eyes of ash, marching in silence. Their chants were not in any tongue, but in absence. In silence.
She turned to flee—then stopped.
Because behind her, in the west, a new light rose.
Not silver. Not gold.
Blue.
And from it stepped a man—tall, scarred, wearing armor of woven wind and memory. In his hand, a sword without a blade. Its hilt bore the same mark as the shard in her palm.
“Eira,” he said, voice like wind over graves. “You’ve come at last.”
She stepped back. “Who are you?”
He looked at her, and for the first time, his face cracked—just slightly.
“I was your father,” he said. “And I thought I’d buried you with the world.”
The ground trembled. The sky split again.
And from the ember in her hand, a voice rose—not hers, not his.
“The first ember dies. The second awakens. The war begins.”
To Be Continued in Part 2: "The Blood of the Twin Suns"
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