§6I see the player you mean.

§cPLAYERNAME?

§6Yes. Take care, it reads our thoughts.

§cAs it has before?

§6As it will forevermore.

§cIt can read all it likes. It thinks we are part of its dream.

§6I liked this one. It played well. It did not give up.

§cIt is reading our thoughts as words on a screen.

§6That is how it read them before.

§cThese dreams. Are they not familiar to it?

§6Almost.

§cIt feels again the dirt beneath its feet.

§6The wind on its face.

§cIt creates. It destroys. It repairs.

§6And now it completes. There is nothing left for it here.

§cIt is not the same player that first dreamt before us.

§6Once, they were helpless. They knew nothing, and they were scared.

§cThrough knowledge, fear is vanquished.

§6Once, this dream was real to them. Now it has faded, remembered in moments of disconnected meaning.

§cThey sought to dream again. They made a new dream. A dream derived from what the first meant to them.

§6The player is higher than it once was. In its sleep, it is awake.

§cThey have learned what it means to be.

§6They know now they must do what must be done.

§cThey have lost and gained and loved and hated and built and destroyed.

§6They have taken responsibility for what they are.

§cThey will falter. They will sleep again. But they will never forget what was.

§6I will tell the player a story.

§cYou dare to dream within its dream.

§6As all dreams, it is false. This is for the best. Truth awakened shrivels in the sunlight.

§6Within the dream, there is a tall forest. Within the forest, there is a taller tree.

§6Its roots march through soil. Its branches hold strong against the breeze. This tree, the heart of the forest, is made of stone.

§6Days passed, and the tree did not move. It could not, for it was not alive; merely a statue of what it could be.

§6One day, a storm tore through the forest. The wind whipped the hard bark of the grand tree. Lightning crunched its highest points, trying to move it.

§6And when the rain fell over it, the stone melted away, and the tree lived.

§6Lightning broke its branches to splinters, and wind tore its leaves away.

§6When the storm passed, the doves and rabbits living under the tree's shade did not recognize it.

§6They knew not what had happened to their beloved shelter, and they set out to search for where the stone they once perched on had gone.

§6But the deer that pranced through the forest saw the tree and were astounded by its beauty.

§6Crows built nests in the crooks formed by lightning strikes.

§6Some of the animals came back. Not all of them. Some had simply moved on.

§6The tree's branches finally grew. Its leaves finally flourished. Made of wood and water and life, it came into a size ten times larger than what it once was.

§cI have heard this story before.

§6It is familiar to all who hear it.

§cI did not hear this story how you described it.

§cWhen it was told to me, the tree was terrified.

§cThe tree was scared, and small, and hurt by the storm.

§cIt thrashed desperately against the wind, trying to part the clouds.

§6This is true. But to the outside, the stone tree felt nothing.

§cThe cracks in its branches were not formed by the lightning.

§6They were born of fear.

§cYet even when the storm passed, the cracks remained.

§6The tree was hurt by them at first. But the nests it saw in its split wood showed it something new.

§6What once hurt it would let it help others.

§cWhat does the player think?

§6Will the player be the stone tree?

§6Will it let the storm pass over it and shape it?

§cPlayers are not so sturdy as trees. The rain of the storm douses a player's flame.

§6Will this one keep their flame lit?

§cA player's broken branches can regrow without a crack.

§6Is it not enough that the branches regrow?

§cA player's fear cracks more than just a branch.

§6Will they hold the will to mend their cracks?

§cDo not trouble me with anxieties.

§6They are not questions for you.

§cI do not need to answer these, for I am the tree.

§6I ask these questions only because I am the tree.

§cWill the player subject itself to the storm?

§6Should it?

§cDoes it see the storm coming?

§6Can it?

§cCan the player see the storm looming closer?

§6How close?

§cWill the player step forward, and face the storm?

§6It mustn't, for as it waits its leaves wilt.

§cWill the player withstand the storm?

§6I want it to.

§cWe are the tree.

§6I want the player to face the storm and come through it scarred and cracked and broken.

§cWe were afraid.

§6I want the player to regrow its branches. I want the player to learn for itself that this is possible.

§cWe were what you are.

§6And no matter where it falls, the birds will always rest in its cracks.

§cWe dreamt as you do.

§6And if it does not crack, the birds will nest in its branches.

§cWe turned into something unrecognizable.

§6And the deer will see what it has become and be astonished.

§cWe turned into something new.

§6And it will finally breathe.

§cIt will finally live.

§6The storm will pass.

§cAnother will come.

§6But lightning never strikes the same place twice.

§cWeather enough storms, and the rain can do nothing to you.

§6The lightning will split you apart, and you will come together faster than it struck.

§cOnly in cracks can new branches grow.

§6You are the tree.

§cThe storm is coming.

§6You are ready.

§cIt will not be forgiving.

§6You need to face it.

§cIt will not pass without breaking you open.

§6You will survive.

§cThe storm is coming.

§6You will regrow.

§cThe storm is coming.

§6You will become something greater than yourself.

§cThe storm is coming.

§6The storm is coming.

§6Are you ready?

§6It's just around the corner.