NOT ALMOND

HUMAN INTENT / MACHINE EXECUTION

人類意圖 / 機器執行

• MUSIC / 音樂
• NETWORK / 社群
• SYSTEM / 理念

Really, Not Almond.

[ NETWORK / 社群 ]

• YouTube
• Instagram
• TikTok
• X

• SIGNAL/訊息: [email protected]

• [ RETURN TO ROOT / 返回根目錄 ]

[ SYSTEM / 理念 ]

N/A — NOT APPLICABLE
_{Status Quo Rejected. We do not ask for permission.
拒絕現狀 · 無需許可}N/A — NOT ALONE
_{The Augmented Creator. One mind, amplified by the machine.
增強型創作者 · 單體意識 · 機械增幅}N/A — NEW AUTHORITY
_{Output is the only metric. The product is the star.
產出即指標 · 產品即主角}

HUMAN INTENT / MACHINE EXECUTION
_{人類意圖 / 機器執行}

Not Almond is an experiment in pure output.
_{Not Almond 是一場關於純粹產出的實驗。}For years, the industry said a production house needed a team, a history, and a face to exist. We checked the box marked N/A.
_{多年來，音樂產業認為生產需要團隊、歷史和面孔。我們選擇了 N/A (不適用) 。}We believe the product is the star, and the creator is simply the code-bearer. Whether it’s sound, structure, or style, like our N/A logo, the tiny wireframe holds up the heavy letters because the tools have changed.
_{我們相信產品才是主角，創作者僅是載體。無論聲音或風格，如N/A的商標，微小的框架足以支撐沉重的文字，因為工具已經改變。}One mind, amplified by the machine, can now carry the weight of an industry. It’s not just 'Artificial' Intelligence. It’s our Augmented Independence.
_{單一意識經由機器增幅，足以承載整個產業的重量。這不僅是「人工」智慧。這是我們的增強型獨立。}

- Really, Not Almond.

• [ RETURN TO ROOT / 返回根目錄 ]

// DATA LOG //
N/A-001

[Terminal Velocity]Location: Terminal 4, Gate B22. Midday.Status: Boarding.The air in the terminal smelled of recycled oxygen and stale coffee.He leaned against a steel pillar, checking his watch for the third time, finding comfort in the cold precision of the flight schedule.He was a man who believed in logistics, not lightning bolts. To him, "love at first sight" was just a statistical error found in cheap paperbacks sold at the airport kiosk.She was ten feet away, wrestling with a carry-on that refused to fit the sizer. She was equally pragmatic—focused on the physics of luggage, not the chemistry of souls.Then, the PA system crackled, and they both looked up at the exact same second.It was a collision without impact. The deafening hum of the terminal—the rolling suitcases, the screaming toddlers, the drone of the news monitors—simply vanished. It was as if the audio cable to the world had been yanked out.For him, the logic board fried. A sudden, flush heat raced up his neck, betraying every cynical thought he’d ever had. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but his vocabulary had been wiped clean.For her, the struggle with the bag ceased. She stood frozen, holding his gaze, recognizing a terrifying familiarity in a stranger’s eyes. It was the undeniable data point she had spent her life trying to disprove.“Now boarding Group C.”The mechanical voice snapped the cable back in. The noise rushed back, deafening and cruel.He didn't chase her. He didn't make a scene. He just offered a shy, resigned smile—a silent confession of the impossible.She returned it with a slow, deliberate nod, acknowledging the secret they now shared.She turned and walked down the jet bridge. He watched her disappear, knowing he was boarding his own plane with the same ticket, but a completely different destination. The world hadn't changed, but the traveler had.

• END LOG

// DATA LOG //
N/A-002

[The Resonance Chamber]The reverb has finally decayed. For a long time, the echo in this room was deafening. A single word spoken in anger would bounce off the walls for weeks. A laugh would sustain itself in the upper corners of the ceiling, refusing to fade out.Living with you was living inside a drum. Constant vibration. High sensitivity.But I have been monitoring the decibel levels for the last three hundred hours. The silence here is heavy. It has mass. It presses against the eardrums like deep water.I sit in the center of the floorboards. Old wood. Warped by humidity and temperature shifts. They creak under my own weight, a specific sound that I am learning to recognize. It is the sound of a solo load-bearing structure.I look at the shadow cast by the streetlamp outside. It stretches across the carpet, elongated and distorted.Previously, there were two shadows here. They overlapped. They created complex geometric intersections.Now, the projection is simple. One source of light. One object blocking it. The physics are undeniably cleaner.I stare at the communication device on the table. It sits dormant. A dead circuit. I used to treat it like a lifeline, waiting for the signal voltage to spike. Waiting for the connection to be re-established.But a connection requires two active terminals. And I have realized that the line was cut miles ago. There is no static. Just the flat hum of the atmosphere.The dust is settling now. I can see it falling in slow motion through the yellow light. Sediment covering the artifacts of the last era. It covers the empty chair. It coats the silence.Some might call this loneliness. They might look at the empty volume of space in this room and see a deficit.But as I pour a drink, the amber liquid catches the light. I listen to the ice settle. I am beginning to understand the acoustics of this new arrangement.There is no interference. There is no feedback loop screaming in the background. I am navigating the room by my own internal gyroscope.It is just me and the physics of the space. And for the first time in years... The calibration feels correct.

• END LOG

// DATA LOG //
N/A-003

[The Stasis Chamber]Time: 11:45 PM. Status: Holding Pattern.The apartment isn't just clean; it is sterile.For three hundred and sixty-four days, I have operated this space like a museum curator. The coffee mug she left on the coaster hasn't moved a millimeter. The book on the nightstand is still open to page 142.I have treated her absence like a temporary glitch—a pause button pressed on a movie that is bound to resume at any second.I sit in the armchair facing the door, watching the second hand on the wall clock tick toward midnight.Tomorrow is the timestamp. The one-year mark. My logic was simple: If I kept everything exactly as it was, the universe would have to correct the error and bring her back to fill the empty space.But the clock strikes twelve. The date changes. The door remains shut. The hallway is silent.The doubt finally breaches my defenses. I stand up, pacing the room, the silence screaming in my ears. I start calculating the variables. Is she lost? Is she stuck? Or is the distance between us not something that can be crossed by a flight, a car, or a phone call?I can't stay in this museum anymore. The preservation has failed.I grab my coat and the single white rose I bought yesterday. If she can't navigate her way back to this timeline, I have to go to where she stopped.I drive through the empty city, the streetlights blurring into streaks of gold and grey. I pull up to the iron gates, the only place in the city that never sleeps because it never wakes up.I walk the wet grass until I find the marker. There she is. Etched in granite. Cold, permanent, and immobile.I realize then that the "See you later" I've been replaying in my head for a year wasn't a promise. It was a mercy.I kneel down and place the flower on the damp earth. The stasis is broken. The clock starts moving again."Happy Anniversary," I whisper to the stone. And for the first time in a year, I finally say the word I've been avoiding:Goodbye.

• END LOG

// DATA LOG //
N/A-001-EP

[The Echo Chamber]It wasn’t a spark. It was a heavy, sudden silence.10:45 PM.The last train is ten minutes away.The station is loud—announcements, footsteps, the static of the city winding down. But the moment he looks up, the noise just... evaporates.She is standing near the turnstile, shaking rain off an umbrella. He is holding a cold coffee he forgot to drink.When their eyes lock, the air pressure in the station drops. It doesn’t feel new. It feels like returning home to a house you sold years ago. A sudden, crushing wave of familiarity.For a second, the wall between "Here" and "Elsewhere" gets thin. He doesn't just see a stranger. He feels the weight of a Sunday morning that never happened. He hears the specific sound of her voice reading a book in a room they don't share. He knows exactly how her hand would feel if he held it.It’s not imagination. It’s an echo leaking through the floorboards of the universe. A memory of a life they are living in a parallel timeline, bleeding into this one.He takes a step forward. The impulse is magnetic. Undeniable. To ask her name. To fix the timeline.But the announcement chimes. The train roars into the station. The spell breaks. The noise rushes back in.She steps through the doors. He stays on the platform.Two ships passing in the night, carrying the same cargo, destined for different ports. Leaving him with nothing but a phantom pain in his chest, and the ghost of a love story that ended before it began.

• END LOG

// DATA LOG //
N/A-002-EP

[The Unwritten Chapter]The rain has finally stopped. I didn't notice exactly when it happened. I was too busy staring at the reflection in the windowpane, trying to separate my own face from the ghost of yours.For a long time, I lived in that reflection. I thought the empty chair across the table was a defect in the scene. I thought it was a reserved space.A gap that desperately needed to be filled. I treated the silence like a missing page in a book. Without it, I convinced myself the story didn't make sense. I kept trying to glue the pages back together, even when the edges were torn.But sitting here now, watching the steam rise from a single cup... I realize the page isn't missing. It’s just blank. And blank paper isn't a mistake. It’s an invitation.I remember how I used to walk. Head turned sideways. Always checking your reaction. Checking to see if you saw the same colors I did. If you felt the same cold wind. I was navigating by a map drawn for two people, but I was the only one holding the compass.It was a heavy map. Hard to fold. Hard to carry. I spent so much energy trying to keep us on the same path that I forgot where I wanted to go. I was the co-pilot in my own life, waiting for instructions that never came.The coffee has gone cold, but I don't mind. There is a clarity in the coldness. I look at my hands. For months, they felt empty. They felt like they were grasping at smoke. But now, I see them differently. They aren't empty. They are free. They are available to pick up new things. To build new structures.I put on my coat and step out into the street. The air is crisp. It smells like winter, but not the sad kind. It smells like the clean start of a morning. The city noise used to feel lonely, a reminder of everything I didn't have.Now, it sounds like a soundtrack.I walk down the exact center of the sidewalk. I don't need to leave room on my left or my right. I don't need to slow my pace to match someone else's stride. I take up the whole space. My shadow stretches out in front of me, long and unbroken.It turns out, being the only character in the scene isn't a tragedy. It doesn't mean the production has failed. It just means the camera is finally focused on me.The background noise fades out. The lighting adjusts. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with my own air. The script is mine to write now. And for the first time... I can't wait to see what happens on the next page.

• END LOG

// DATA LOG //
N/A-003-EP

[The Event Horizon]The glass is cold against my forehead. Outside... the nebula looks exactly the same as it did yesterday. That is the cruelty of deep space—nothing changes here. There is no weather. No wind to shake the hull. No seasons turning gold to grey to mark the passage of time.There is only the infinite... static... black.I check the comms console for the thousandth time today. The only sound in the room is the low, rhythmic thrum of the life support systems. The readout on the screen is flatline.They told me that at this distance, light takes exactly one year to travel from your last known coordinates to my station. It is simple physics. It is just math.For three hundred and sixty-four days, I have stood at this window. I have learned to memorize the pattern of the interference. Twice, the sensors triggered a proximity alert. Twice, my heart hammered against my ribs, thinking it was your thrusters breaking the horizon.But it was just solar dust. Ghost data drifting against the sensors.I convinced myself that if I watched the darkness long enough, I would see the flare. The specific blue ion burn of your ship. I remember clearly how it looked when you undocked... drifting away into the silence... becoming smaller and smaller until you were just a pixel among the stars.I have kept this frequency open, burning power we do not have, treating the static hiss like a sacred hymn.The chronometer ticks over. The cycle is complete.The light should be here.I press my hand against the reinforced glass. I look for a spark. A shimmer. A glitch in the void.Nothing. Just the silent, indifferent stars staring back.I realize now the calculation was correct, but the variable was wrong. The light didn't get lost on the way. The light simply... went out. You never made the jump.The silence in this station is suddenly louder than any scream. The ghost isn't in the machine... the ghost is the distance itself.I reach down to the console. The metal is cold under my fingertips. My finger hovers over the red toggle switch. I can not hold the frequency anymore. The oxygen reserves are needed for the living."Copy that, Commander," I whisper to the empty air. "You are clear to disconnect."I apply pressure to the switch. It snaps down with a final, mechanical click.The hum dies. The room goes dark.End transmission.

• END LOG

// DATA LOG //
N/A-001-CN

「隔熱層」凌晨兩點。雨刷像是一個疲憊的節拍器，機械地劃開擋風玻璃上的霓虹光暈。我把車裡的冷氣開得很強，試圖將這座城市的潮濕隔絕在外。在這種深夜，我習慣把自己鎖在這個流動的鐵盒子裡，聽著低沉的低音音樂震動座椅。我一直覺得，所謂的「心動」就像是車載電台裡的雜訊，只要頻率調得夠準，就能把它過濾掉。直到那輛車在紅燈前停在我旁邊。雨下得很大，世界是模糊的。我只是漫不經心地往右看了一眼。 街邊廣告牌的藍光剛好折射進來，打在她靠著窗的側臉上。那一秒，車裡原本強勁的冷氣彷彿突然失效了。 沒有什麼復雜的代碼錯誤，只有一種很原始、很狼狽的燥熱感，瞬間填滿了這個狹小的空間。我握著方向盤的手心開始出汗。前一秒我還是那個冷漠的夜遊者，後一秒我卻像個剛拿到駕照的新手，連呼吸節奏都亂了套。 那不是害羞，那是一種類似缺氧的沈重感。她似乎感覺到了我的視線。 隔著兩層掛滿雨珠的玻璃，她轉過頭。沒有驚訝，也沒有那種禮貌性的假笑。她只是平靜地看了我一眼，眼神像深海一樣，直接淹沒了我所有的防備。 那種眼神在說：我看見你了。綠燈亮起。 她的引擎聲轟然響起，輪胎捲起地上的積水，乾脆利落地加速離開。我看著那兩盞紅色的尾燈消失在雨霧裡，伸手關掉了車裡的音樂。世界重新安靜下來，但那股莫名的熱度，卻困在車廂裡，久久散不掉。

• 記錄結束

// DATA LOG //
N/A-002-CN

「解鎖」鑰匙轉動的聲音，在凌晨兩點的樓道裡顯得特別大聲。門開了。 我習慣性地想要側身，留出空間讓身後的人先進去。 停頓了兩秒，我才意識到... 身後是空的。沒有人會撞到我的肩膀，沒有人會嫌我開門太慢。 空氣裡只有灰塵的味道。我走進去，輕輕把門關上。 這是我第一次覺得，這扇防盜門的鎖扣聲，聽起來這麼清脆。 像是某種... 儀式完成的聲音。我沒有開燈。 因為以前開燈的時候，總是要面對一屋子的混亂。沒洗的杯子，沒說完的爭執，還有那些飄浮在空氣裡、隨時會爆炸的情緒。但今晚，黑暗很溫柔。我走到窗邊，拉開一點點窗簾。 地板上只有一道長長的影子。 以前這裡總是交疊著兩個影子的輪廓，糾纏在一起，分不清誰是誰。現在，輪廓變得好俐落。 原來把多餘的線條擦掉之後，畫面會變得這麼乾淨。我給自己倒了一杯水。 如果是昨天，我可能會哭，或者會焦慮地看著手機。 但很奇怪。 當我真的坐下來，看著窗外灑進來的月光時... 我發現我的肩膀鬆下來了。那種感覺不是「失去」。 那種感覺像是... 妳揹著一個很重的背包走了很久很久的山路。 突然之間，妳把背包卸下來了。 妳以為妳會捨不得那個背包。 但其實，妳感覺到的只有輕盈。我對著空氣，輕輕地點了點頭。 像是在跟過去的那個總是委屈的自己打招呼。不用再解釋了。 不用再為了維持「雙數」而勉強自己變形。 這不是什麼悲慘的結局。 我看著那一輪月亮。 它也是自己掛在那裡的。 不說話，不討好，但是很亮。我喝了一口水。 冰涼的感覺順著喉嚨下去。 我想，明天的太陽升起時，我應該會睡得很好。終於，只剩我自己了。 真好。

• 記錄結束

// DATA LOG //
N/A-003-CN

「缺席的坐標」時間： 傍晚 6:30。 狀態： 準備中 (約會模式)。我站在鏡子前，仔細調整領帶的結。這是一年來我第一次這麼認真地修剪鬍鬚，熨平襯衫的每一道褶皺。空氣中飄浮著那瓶妳送我的古龍水味道，那是妳最喜歡的雪松木香。今天，是那個「諾言」兌現的日子。一年前的今天，妳在玄關留下了那個輕盈的吻和一句「再見」。在我的邏輯運算裡，「再見」意味著一個完整的閉環——離開，然後歸來。我靠著這個邏輯支撐了整整三百六十四天。我像個盡職的博物館管理員，每天擦拭著妳留下的痕跡，保持著房間的佈局分毫未動，甚至連牙刷架上那個空著的位置，我都沒敢放上別的東西。我看了看手錶。指針已經過了約定時間。窗外的天色暗了下來。妳沒有敲門，沒有電話，甚至沒有一條訊息。焦慮開始像冷水一樣漫過腳踝。沉默在房間裡無限放大，壓得我喘不過氣。那個盤旋在腦海裡的疑問越來越大聲，撞擊著我的理智：究竟是什麼樣的阻礙，能讓守信的妳遲到這麼久？難道是塞車？難道是妳忘了路？還是說……這段分開的時間，已經長到足以讓妳遺忘回家的路徑？我無法再在安靜的房間裡等待這份被動的煎熬。我抓起那一束妳最愛的白色桔梗，穿上大衣，衝進了夜色。既然妳沒有回來，那一定是因為妳被困在了某個地方。 那我去找妳。我發動車子，憑著肌肉記憶開往那個我們最後一次「在一起」的地方。 導航顯示距離只有 15 公里，但我感覺像是開了一個世紀。車子停下的時候，四周異常安靜。這裡沒有咖啡廳的音樂，沒有城市的喧囂，只有風吹過松樹林的沙沙聲。 借著車燈的強光，我一步步走向那個熟悉的坐標。我終於見到妳了。妳安靜地在那裡，沒有變老，沒有表情，永遠停留在 25 歲的樣子——嵌在一塊冰冷的大理石碑上。 我顫抖著手，將那束溫暖的桔梗放在石碑前冰冷的泥土上。原來，這一年的等待不是為了重逢，而是為了接受。 原來，妳說的「再見」，真的就只是再見。我在妳的名字前跪下，補上了那句遲到了一年的告別。 「週年快樂。」我對著空氣輕聲說道，而在這一刻，我們之間的距離，終於歸零。

• 記錄結束

// DATA LOG //
N/A-001-CN-EP

「藍色音符的殘響」這不是巧合。這是頻率的重疊，是被時間遺漏的一段雜訊。1988年，台北，深夜。 在「藍色音符」爵士酒吧的地下室，空氣裡混雜著陳年威士忌和潮濕的霉味。她坐在吧台最角落。杯壁上的水珠沿著玻璃滑落。她沒有在等人，只是覺得今晚的雨聲太吵，讓她無法回家。他在舞台上。最後一個和弦剛剛結束。手指有些麻木，那是過度用力的後遺症。他抬起頭，視線穿過了層層疊疊的煙霧。然後，視線撞在了一起。 就在那一瞬間，物理定律似乎失效了。一種強烈的既視感，像電流一樣竄過脊椎。在他的腦海深處，膠卷開始瘋狂倒帶，卻播放出了未來的畫面。 他「看見」的不是酒吧，而是便利商店刺眼的白光。他拿著一支不存在於這個時代的手機，站在她身後排隊。那是一種爭吵後的疲憊，是只有兩個人才知道的、關於咖啡甜度的默契。同一秒，她也「聽見」了。 她聽見的不是薩克斯風，而是地鐵進站的尖銳煞車聲。她感覺到了他手心的溫度，乾燥、溫暖，曾經無數次牽住她。這是來自未來的回音。兩條本該平行的時間線，在這個類比訊號時代，發生了劇烈的短路。他們隔著十公尺，隔著三十年，在煙霧中交換了一生的記憶。他站了起來。那種引力無法抗拒。 但就在他邁出第一步時，吧台的燈熄滅了。 酒保搖響了打烊的鈴。「叮——」 聲音像是一把剪刀，剪斷了那條隱形的線。現實重新湧入。 她驚醒般地收回視線，慌亂地抓起大衣，消失在台北濕冷的雨夜裡。他站在原地。看著門縫下透進來的微弱光影。 像是一首還沒寫完的歌，被強制按下了停止鍵。 留下的，只有空氣中微微震動的殘響，證明他們曾經在時間的縫隙裡，相愛過一秒鐘。

• 記錄結束

// DATA LOG //
N/A-002-CN-EP

「夜間巡航」副駕駛座，空了。 以前... 我總覺得那個位子需要填滿。 需要一個說話的人。 需要一隻，搭在扶手上的手。 需要一種... 重量。但今晚... 當車子駛入高架橋的時候。 我突然發現，方向盤變輕了。物理學上說： 兩個人的重量加在一起，有時候... 會讓車身在過彎時，失去平衡。 太多的期待。 太多的爭吵。 那是... Overload (超載)。而現在。 車身很輕。 氣流... 很順。儀表板上的指針，指著 90。 這剛好是這首歌的節奏... BPM 90。以前開車的時候，總有人在旁邊導航。 「開慢點」、「前面轉彎」、「你走錯路了」。 那些聲音... 像是干擾訊號。現在。 車內只有音樂的低頻震動。 沒有人告訴我該去哪裡。 導航螢幕是黑的。 但我卻比任何時候... 都清楚方向。這不是流浪。 這叫... 巡航模式。我看了一眼後視鏡。 城市的霓虹燈，被拉成了一條條流動的光譜。 那些紅色的尾燈... 就像是無數個過去的記憶。 飛快地，被我拋在腦後。雖然看不清楚。 但我知道它們在那裡。 就讓它們，留在那裡吧。 我不回頭。 因為前面的路燈... 是綠色的。有人說，一個人開車很孤單。 但我把車窗搖下。 夜風灌進來... 帶著自由的氣味。這不是孤單。 這是為了減少風阻... 而必須做出的，流線型設計。 原來把多餘的感情卸載之後。 速度，可以這麼快。這不是逃避。 這是我人生中... 最完美的一次，直線加速。油門踩下。 引擎的聲音，蓋過了心跳。 系統狀態：正常。 輸入端：一個人。 輸出端：無限的道路。呵。 出發。

• 記錄結束

// DATA LOG //
N/A-003-CN-EP

「沈默的視界」航行日誌，第 365 天。目前的相對位置：距離目標坐標，還有最後的一萬公里。儀表板上的倒數計時歸零了。這是妳設定的「返航日」。一年前，妳的探測船在這個星區脫離了編隊。通訊頻道裡留下的最後一句話，不是求救，而是一句輕鬆的「再見」。妳說，這只是一次短暫的單人飛行，妳會在繞行恆星一圈後，回到這個坐標與我會合。我相信了這個邏輯。物理定律是宇宙中最守信用的東西，軌道是圓的，離開的終究會回來。為了這個約定，我將引擎維持在最低耗能，像個幽靈一樣在這片絕對零度的真空裡漂浮了一整年。我關閉了娛樂系統，忍受著維生裝置單調的嗡嗡聲，只為了在雷達上出現綠點的那一刻，能第一時間聽見妳的聲音。警告燈亮起。接近會合點。我推動操縱桿，船身微微震動，穿越了最後一片星雲。按照計算，妳的船應該正停在那裡，閃爍著導航燈，等待對接。「掃描開始。」電腦冰冷的聲音響起。眼前是一片死寂的黑暗。雷達屏幕上空空蕩蕩，沒有熱源，沒有金屬反射，沒有引擎的離子殘留。 怎麼可能？妳從不遲到。我不甘心地重啟掃描器，將功率開到最大。「搜尋範圍擴大。搜尋目標：生命跡象。」 幾秒鐘的死寂後，系統給出了回應。 「偵測到微弱訊號。來源：黑盒子。位置：正下方。」我愣住了。我透過舷窗向下看去。 在那裡，在巨大的恆星殘骸旁，漂浮著一塊冰冷的金屬碎片。那是妳的船體殘骸。它安靜地懸浮著，不再發光，不再移動，像是一塊巨大的墓碑，永遠地嵌在了這片星空裡。原來，妳沒有迷路。 原來，這條軌道不是圓的，而是一條通往虛無的直線。我以為我在等待重逢，但其實，我只是在太空中守了一場長達一年的葬禮。 妳所謂的「再見」，原來是指再也不見。我打開了廣播頻道，對著那塊冰冷的殘骸，按下了發送鍵。 這裡沒有空氣傳遞聲音，但我知道，這是我們之間最後的頻率。「週年快樂，指揮官。任務結束。」引擎熄火。我決定留在這裡。既然無法帶妳回家，那就陪妳一起，成為這片星河裡的塵埃。

• 記錄結束

// DATA LOG //
N/A-JR-001

[THE SILENT WATCHER]The mud is sucking at my boots.Every time the Giant takes a step, black water splashes up to my knees.It smells like ozone and burnt hair out here.The thing is taller than a building. It’s made of storm clouds and jagged scrap metal, and it’s screaming. Not a human scream—a sound like metal tearing apart.My shield feels wrong. It’s too heavy on my left arm, dragging my shoulder down. I try to grip my sword, but my gloves are slick with rain and sweat. My heart is hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.Thump. Thump. Thump.It’s louder than the thunder.The Giant raises a fist the size of a car. My brain screams one word: Run.I’m just a kid. I’m not supposed to be the one standing here. I want to drop this heavy metal and sprint back to the safety of the sidelines. Back to where the lights are warm. Back to where nothing tries to crush you.I squeeze my eyes shut. If I don't look at it, maybe it will disappear.But then, through the howling wind, I feel a sudden stillness.I look over my shoulder, blinking away the rain. You are standing just outside the blast zone.You aren’t wearing armor. You don’t have a magic weapon. You’re just standing there in your jacket, hands in your pockets.The world is ending around us—lightning crashing, ground shaking—but you haven't moved an inch.You aren't screaming at me to fight. You aren't rushing in to save me. You’re just watching. Your face is totally calm. Like you’ve seen this monster before, and you know it can’t hurt us.That calm... it’s contagious.I take a shaky breath. The air feels colder, sharper. If you aren't afraid, then maybe I don't have to be either.You’re holding the ground for me. You’re the anchor that keeps me from blowing away. I realize I’m not standing in the mud alone.I wipe the rain out of my eyes. My grip on the sword tightens. It doesn't feel heavy anymore. It feels like an extension of my arm.The Giant roars again, but now it just sounds like noise. I plant my feet. I look back at you one last time. You nod. That’s all I needed.I turn back to the monster. I’m not running. Not today. I grit my teeth and step forward into the storm.Ready or not.Here I come.

• END LOG

// DATA LOG //
N/A-JR-001-CN

「最後的守護者」天空裂開了。那個巨人的影子蓋下來的時候，我覺得自己像一隻螞蟻。 它真的很燙——我是說，我真的能感覺到它呼吸出來的熱氣，燒得我臉頰發痛。四周都是燒焦的味道。 我的膝蓋在發抖。不是我想抖，是它們自己停不下來。 手裡的劍，明明是傳說級的裝備，現在卻重得像快要斷掉一樣。四周安靜得可怕，只有那個怪物的腳步聲。 咚。咚。咚。 每一聲都踩在我的心臟上。我咬著牙，想要舉起盾牌，但手臂好像不聽使喚。 「我不行。」 這個念頭一旦冒出來，就像野草一樣瘋長。 它太大了。我太小了。 如果我在這裡倒下，就什麼都沒有了。我想轉身。我想丟掉武器。我想回家。 真的，那一秒，我已經準備好要逃跑了。
但在我轉身的那一刻，我看見了你。 你不在戰場的中心。你站在邊緣，站在那些飛濺的火花後面。你沒有穿鎧甲，也沒有拿武器。 你看起來... 就只是原本的樣子。 但奇怪的是，在這個毀天滅地的戰場上，你是唯一沒有發抖的人。你沒有衝過來擋在我前面，也沒有大喊大叫要我小心。 你只是站在那裡，雙手抱在胸前，安靜地看著我。你的眼神很穩。 那種眼神像是在說：「我知道你能做到。我會一直在這裡看著。」
突然間，那種想逃跑的感覺不見了。 我感覺背後有一股熱流衝上來。既然你不怕，那我也不怕。 既然你在看著，我就不能輸。 你是我的「底氣」，是我最後的防線。 只要你還站在那裡，我就算倒下也能重新站起來。我轉回頭，重新握緊了劍。 這一次，它輕得像羽毛一樣。 那個巨人還在咆哮，但我已經聽不見恐懼的聲音了。 我深吸一口氣。空氣雖然灼熱，但充滿了力量。我要上了。 看好了——來吧！

• 記錄結束