Sunday, this name slowly rises in the vast sea of stars of the Star Dome Railway,
but its growth path is bound by countless heavy materials, like a cage.
Fifteen pieces of thought fragments, like broken dreams, are difficult to piece together a complete self;
Fifteen pieces of impression crystals are torn fragments of memory, reflecting the struggle between illusion and reality;
Fifteen pieces of broken mirrors of desire, reflecting the endless desire and anxiety in the heart.
Sixty-five pieces of illusions of a chord, like a silent cry, struggling in the vortex of fate.
Three hundred and eight thousand credit points, as heavy as a mountain, pressing on the shoulders, making it difficult to breathe.
Every breakthrough seems to be the tribulation of fate, and the accumulation of materials symbolizes the shackles of reality.
The trace materials are like invisible chains, entangled with Sunday, imprisoning his growth.
The lingering sound of the same wish, the notes of the clouds, the bars of the sky… are like countless shackles linked together.
Three million credit points are a heavy burden and an inescapable reality.
Skill upgrades seem like endless hard labor, and the fragments of thoughts and the music from the sky are endless labor and waiting.
The light cone “flying back to the earth” seems to be a symbol of hope, but it is a deeper trap,
requiring more materials and more efforts.
Although the Treabar platform is a bridge,
it cannot stop the invisible thorns and torment on the road of growth.
Sunday’s growth is a silent struggle,
each material is a heavy burden, and each upgrade is a test of will.
This is a road without shortcuts,
and it is also a portrayal of the reality behind the virtual world.