Life Is Strangeシリーズは閉鎖に直面している可能性があります
Square Enixの最近の財務報告書は、人生は奇妙であることを明らかにしました。二重暴露は大幅にパフォーマンスが低く、その結果、会社に大きな財政的損失が生じました。 Square Enixの社長は、特定の販売数は非公開のままですが、会社のパフォーマンスの概要を説明するブリーフィング中にこれを確認しました。コスト削減策と成功したDragon Quest 3リメイクは損失を部分的に相殺しますが、二重曝露の弱い商業パフォーマンスは否定できません。
この結果は、長年のファンの間でのゲームの発表へのぬるま湯のレセプションを考えると、まったく予想外ではありませんでした。二重の露出がフランチャイズの忠実な支持者を満たすことを最初の希望にもかかわらず、ゲームは最終的に期待を満たすことができませんでした。ゲームのクレジットはマックスコールフィールドのリターンをからかいましたが、人生の未来は奇妙なフランチャイズが不確実に見えます。
Square Enixは、財務報告書のプレゼンテーション中にこれ以上のコメントを提供しませんでした。同社のゲームのパフォーマンスの「重大な損失」としての特徴づけは、 Guardians of the Galaxyや特定のTomb Raiderの分割払いなど、以前はパフォーマンスの低いタイトルに適用された用語であり、シリーズの将来の見通しについて深刻な懸念を表明しています。
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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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