「この奇妙な新しい場所には季節はあったが、太陽と雪のものではなかった。
波のように上がっては下がる石の季節。
構造と成長と狂気と混沌の季節。
因果を持つようには見えぬ誕生と腐敗の季節。」

Not too long ago I'd have told you that maps were a beautiful mix of science, thaumaturgy, and imagination, that I need only picture a place to conjure a path to it.

I thought them a paradise waiting to happen, but they're more like a tempting morsel sitting below a massive cage. The hunter may be no more, but all the traps are still set.

I long thought corruption a phenomenon unique to Wraeclast, but you need only a passing glance at any one of the lands in the Atlas to see that something frighteningly similar, if not identical, has taken hold there.

Is it the corruption that is unique to Wraeclast, or is it the apparent lack of corruption elsewhere that's truly the rarity? Instead of lamenting the cursed continent, perhaps we should be counting our uncorrupted blessings.

I first started exploring the Atlas as a way to grow closer to my estranged father. I had no idea just how close I would get to him, though there was not much left of his mind by then...

Looking back, I think I was overly optimistic about what the Atlas could mean for... well, for everyone. Imagine limitless worlds, limitless resources, limitless open space in which to live.

But now I understand that it all comes at an insurmountable price. To dwell there is to leave yourself vulnerable to unspeakable madness. It's inescapable and insidious. It taps into your greatest desires, offering you a glimpse of what might be, and that temptation... it's all I could do to stop myself from falling into the same patterns as my friends...

The work we're doing is important, but it's also risky. Please, if you start to feel your sanity slip away, you need to tell me.

I returned to Oriath with one of the early survivor fleets, excited to finally have the opportunity to put my knowledge to good use. During the rebuilding effort, we stumbled across the golden device -- a device I later learned once belonged to my father.

I'd hoped that it might be useful in the resettlement effort at first, but when we discovered the Elder, it became clear that what lay beyond the device's portals was more likely to harm than help. I assembled a team in absolute secrecy, comprised of exiles who had proved their combat know-how in Wraeclast, and set to work sealing the Elder away. We were successful. The relief I felt... it was indescribable. But...

The Atlas is a dangerous place. It assaults both body and mind. It makes Wraeclast seem positively tame. My team, my friends, they were deeply affected by the journey. The allure of power finally caused them to lose their grip on reality.

And it was only a matter of time until I joined them.

I'm sorry if I came across as harsh, but by entering the Atlas, you may have jeopardised all of humanity.

My name is Zana, and some time ago I took a group of exiles like yourself into the Atlas. Our task, to ensure a creature named the Elder never reached our world, was of immeasurable importance. Even though the exiles I recruited were adept combatants, the journey was difficult. Yet we succeeded. We defeated the Elder. Though we couldn't save--... we still succeeded.

I thought we were done, but... but my companions just kept... returning. Over and over again, they would enter the Atlas, wiping clean entire worlds. It wasn't about saving Oriath, or discovery, it was just... killing.

The Atlas does strange things to one's thought processes. I thought at first the madness was a symptom of the Elder, but now... it's the Atlas itself. I'm sure of it.

But these exiles are now so strong... I saw no other choice but to destroy our only way out. I sealed us all in and waited for death to find us.

Instead, I found you.

When you spend as much time in the Atlas as we did, basic survival skills no longer suffice, and it becomes necessary to master the lay of the land. That's a tall ask in a place where the land changes from day to day, and yet Al-Hezmin took to it like a rhoa to mud. I could not count the number of times he saved us from getting lost in endless twisting caverns, or spotted the tracks of a dangerous beast far sooner than the rest of us would have.

Our praise must have gone to his head, because he began to strive to be the best at all times. If Drox brought back two boars from a hunt, he needed to bring back three. In battle, he had to deal the flashiest and most devastating blows, and he had to make sure we all saw him do it.

His fixation on honing his skills was actually quite useful during our campaign against the Elder, so at the time we thought nothing of it, but... It hollowed him out in some fundamental way. He was full of bravado, yet at the same time desperately afraid of being exposed as merely second or third best. He was never unkind to me, even as the madness crept upon him, but for capable warriors like Drox that threatened his self-image... A clash was inevitable. We slipped away in the dead of night, but I doubt we've escaped a man of his talents. He's out there, lurking and watching, waiting for the best time to strike...

Are you even real? I can't tell anymore.

この手つかずの果てしない大地には、いつも地平線の向こうに青々とした丘が広がっている。かつては追放され、全てを失ったが、今、私は新しい人生を築ける領域を見つけた。

エルダーとシェイパーがいなくなった今、私たちはここで法と正義の王国を作ることができる。テンプラー達の過激な支配から逃れることができる。もう奴らのような権力者を恐れる必要はない。私が先頭に立ち、我が力を人々を平等かつ公正に支配する法とするのだ。

夢物語かも知れないが、私が力を用いれば現実にすることのできる夢だ。私が危険を取り除いた谷は、いつの日か私がここに連れてくる人々のための谷となる。彼らは自由に行き、私は彼らの領主となる。恐怖や宗教ではなく、人々の尊敬により統治するのだ

公平なドロックス

戦いのたびに私は強く打ち、素早く動く。栄光の戦いの流れに到達する時はいつも、私の速度は霧を凌駕する。敵を真っ二つに切り裂く時、私はそれを手足に感じ、腕に焼き付ける。もはやどんな幻影と戦うかは問題ではない。ただそれは一撃で倒れ、次の敵に道を譲るのだ。

夢の達成は近い。私の王国はもうすぐ手の届くところにある。たとえ永遠に絶え間なく戦い続けなければならないとしても、私はそれを手に入れる。あるがままの力が私の中に流れ込み、爽快感を常に感じている。我が民は故郷を手に入れるだろう。

戦士ドロックス

I've seen my fair share of combat, Exile, but never have I seen someone more comfortable on the battlefield than Drox. Though he was not our leader, he was our commander. When an impossible decision had to be made in the midst of battle, somehow, Drox always found the right path forward. He led us through numerous situations we thought fatal with an unflagging warm grin that let us know he believed in us.

But at some point, almost imperceptibly, Drox stopped making decisions for the group, and started focusing only on his new dream. His smiles turned to scowls. He remained fixated on this mad idea of building a kingdom in the Atlas. He became cold to Veritania and distant to the rest of us. All his efforts went towards securing the Atlas and establishing law. His obsession was putting us in danger, and that is something I could not tolerate.

When I led the group away from him, he either didn't notice, or didn't care.

アトラスと呼ばれるこの世界には、不安を覚えるわ。エルダーとシェイパーが支配権を求めて戦ったとき、その領域はある種の暴力的な意味を持っていた。私たちが戦った雑多な創造物には、明確な目的があった。その目的が失われた今、この土地は原初の思いのままに形を変えられる粘土に戻り、我々の欲望そのものを捧げ物とし、欲望の充足をしようとしているかのようだ。

昔、私が追放される前、つまり人間の野暮ったい大人の現実を本当に知る前に、私はセオポリスのカーニバルで鏡のホールをさまよったことがある。松明が揺らめく中、私は自分が無限大に映し出されるのを見た。最終的には地平線ではなく、自分自身の像が暗く縮んでいき、自分自身の反響に隠れてますます遠くなるのを見た。

アトラスの霧も同じである。霧もなければ、湿気もなく、曖昧にし、巻き上げるような靄もない。ただ、私の意志、私の思考、私の期待が、広大で計り知れない空間に無数のエコーとして映し出されるだけだ。純粋な存在であれば、ここは楽園となるのだろうが、私たちは死すべき存在であり、悪徳に満ち溢れている。

欲望は、ここでの真の敵である。

訓練をしたヴェリタニア

今わかった。私はこの場所の道徳的な中心としての役割を果たさなければならない。他の人たちは、自分たちの欲望の追求に没頭している。彼らは耽溺の靄の中に迷い込んだ妄想中毒者に過ぎず、彼らのことを考えると吐き気がする。

私が霧の中の恐怖と戦い続けるのは、彼らを抑制する必要があるからだ。混沌とした世界に秩序を与えるには純粋な者が力を必要とする。アル・ヘズミンやドロックスのような不潔な悪習を広めることは許されない。

そう、私は私たちの中で唯一、鏡の回廊から解放された者なのだ。私だけが、まだはっきりと考えている。手遅れになる前に、ここから脱出しなければならない...。私たちを救えるのは、私しかいない。

純粋なるヴェリタニア

When I met her, Veritania was a paradox. She was quiet and reserved to the point of reclusiveness, yet she seemed to feel compelled to help others by a humanistic moral code she'd profess by the campfire. Before, she took care of the hungry, the down-on-their-luck, the homeless, the addicted, and the enslaved alike. She was, in fact, exiled for her charity work... helping one too many mistreated Maraketh or Karui made powerful people in Oriath very angry.

As we explored the Atlas, Veritania's mind became an invaluable resource. Thanks to her, we were able to stretch our limited resources farther than I could've possibly hoped, avoiding fruitless confrontations and conserving our strength for moments that mattered most. She'd see a bad situation coming sooner than anyone, and help steer us away from it.

But her mind, like the others, soon broke beneath the weight of the Atlas, and the once-merciful Veritania became contemptuous of all we encountered. It was impossible for anyone but Drox to meet her increasingly high standards. She broke away from the group not long after we left him. The last time I saw her, she accused me of using the mysteries of Atlas as a drug to distract myself from the loss of my father. After that barb, you can imagine I'm not too eager to see her again.

Like many of those once loyal to the Templar regime, Baran held particular contempt for his former brethren. Our mutual disdain for Dominus helped us bond. We stayed up far too late on many nights, discussing where science and spirituality overlapped... and where they clashed.

While I tended to agree with Veritania's secular view that people must be responsible for their own actions, Baran was still a firm believer that trust in God was necessary for good moral judgement. Despite everything the Templar put him through, his faith was unshaken.

We didn't always see eye-to-eye, but we respected each other's positions. Of course, once the madness set in, that respect vanished, replaced by fevered argument and name-calling. As the group dwindled, he found reasons to cast doubt on each of the departed. In our last fight before the two of us went our separate ways, he accused me of being sent by a shadowy demon to draw him away from the righteous path...

And then I was alone.

So that's it then. Baran can't be saved. Caeserius... did she understand the costs? Did she know the fate she was consigning my brother to? I've no small bitterness over how far she went to try to save her father, yet here we are, abandoning my brother to eternal madness. There's nothing to be done about it, but it still burns.

彼らは私を置いていった。私が助けを必要とする時に、私を置き去りにしていった。

暗黒の球体に光が飲み込まれるのを見たのを覚えている。持ち上げられたんだ。そいつが何かを掴もうと手を伸ばしていたのを覚えている。絶望だ。前に踏み出したのを覚えている。自分のこともオリアスのことも考えていなかった。ただ友のことを考えていた、それに生活を私に頼っている兄弟姉妹のことを考えていた。そいつが冷たい手をキツく握ったのを覚えている、そして私は滑り落ちたんだ。

覚えているのは... ガラスだ。ガラスに包まれていた。動くことも話すこともできなかった。だが全てを見ることはできた。私は全てを見たんだ。皆を見たんだ。彼らが去っていくのを見た。彼女が去るのを見た。全てがとても素早かった。千の昼と夜が一瞬で過ぎ去った。それから...

虚無だ。私は何も感じない。悲しみも怒りも。楽しみや痛みも喜びも。私は自由だった。自由に動けたし好きなところにはどこにでも行けた。欲望もない。世界をありのまま見ることができた。

「無」だ。

彼は沈黙した。そしてついにその狂った呟きをやめた。

それは避けられないことだった。私たちがどこに進んでも、どこに隠れても、どこに慰めを求めても、彼のつぶやきは私たちを見つけた。私たちが別れても、彼の声は蛇のように私たちの頭に巻きつき、他のあらゆる思考を歪んだ形に押し込めてしまった。そのような絶え間ない騒音の中で、私は神のささやきを聞くことができなかった。

私は今、彼を訪ねる勇気がない。私はただこの牢獄を抜け出し、あの不埒な冒涜者、シーザリアスの愚かさを罰したいだけだ。その後、軍勢を率いてここに戻り、アトラスを征服するつもりだ。神の名の下に国家を樹立することが、これ以上の信仰の証となろうか。それからはどうする？神のお告げに従おう。

神は私に扉を示してくれた。石を、道を彼らは明らかにしてくれた。私が見つける必要があるのは正しい鍵だけだ。

全能の神、私はあなたのしもべです。私はあなたの剣です。私はあなたのものです。心も体も魂も。あなたが望むものをすべてあなたに届けると約束します。

祝福されし者バラン

Each Watchstone contains an immense amount of information from the earliest explorers of the Atlas. As the Exiles seek to hide from us, they will undoubtedly move into deeper territories, masking their paths. But these paths are known to the souls in these stones.

I know of places in the Atlas where these stones might be used to reveal those paths. Show me on the Atlas where you want to explore more deeply, and I can use the stones to reveal locations long-hidden. Be careful, though, for these Watchstones will empower everything near them, and are certain to draw our foes out of hiding.

There's something happening to the Atlas, Exile. When you socketed the fourth Watchstone in a Citadel, something responded. A storm on the horizon... a creek becomes a river... I'm not a man of metaphor, but I don't know how else to describe the crackling feeling of power on the wind. If the Atlas is a sleeping giant, our unknown force out there is slowly waking it.

No... Sirus is still alive? Gods, I thought he was dead! He took the brunt of the energy released when we sealed the Elder. How did he survive?

Sirus was the leader of the group of Exiles I recruited. Brilliant and determined, and a force to be reckoned with even before we travelled the Atlas together. We... grew close. I was distraught when he vanished with the Elder. At first I thought the other Exiles were looking for him as I was, but perhaps they knew he was still alive...

I have a terrible feeling that Sirus may be tied to the madness of the others. Or perhaps he is just as mad as they are. We need to find and stop him -- if the others are looking for a way out, I'm certain he is too.

アトラスが欲しいのか？好きにしろ。くれてやる。だが、オリアスは？オリアスは灰になるまで焼き払ってやる。我が友の市民の苦しみが何かを呼び覚ましてくれるだろう。

You left me there, Zana... centuries alone in the Atlas... all I wanted was to feel something again...

The man Sirus was and the entity that destroyed our homes are night and day. Whatever happened to him in the wake of The Elder's sealing stole the very essence of his being. When Sirus returned, he returned incomplete, missing that vital essence.

Not long ago I might've held hope that we'd find that piece out there, that the true Sirus might be drifting through the Atlas, waiting for us to find him and bring him home.

I know better now than to hope. Perhaps the Atlas has eroded that part of me, as well.

Seems enough was enough. The Vanguard undertook the largest evacuation in history... hundreds of ships... and Oriath has been abandoned. After the domination of the Templar, then the crackdown under Innocence, then the slaughter at Kitava's hands, and finally the ruination by Sirus, it's clear our little island is no place for men to live. Even cursed, one could say, though we are not entirely blameless for those disasters.

No small irony that the Oriathan people now depend upon the Karui we once enslaved. I always said that if you kick a rhoa in the arse, one day, it'll kick you in the head, but I underestimated the honour of our new hosts. They're different after the death of their gods... and we are, too, after the departure of ours. I wasn't a believer, but I can feel it. We're on our own now.

We're going to have to work together to face what comes next...