A child clutches a toy, a soldier grasps a sword, a mother holds a daughter. Is there any difference between such things?
...
At this point, the line between living and not has blurred to me.
What defines something as someone?
Where does the line start, where does it stop?
It's beginning to show to me,
That this line is a circle, rather than a path.
...
Of course, existentialism will get us nowhere.
Questions and answers have no difference either.
All are homogeneous in my world; black and white are mixed to gray.
...
My, my. Who is me? Why am I?
Well, it's unfortunate, but answers and questions still hold no difference here.
Nothing comes without being let go.
And unfortunately, I'm not ready to let go just yet.
....
...
..
.
It's
Tiring.
So many strings around my fingers, they have tied so tight, they have grown so gangrenous, cut from the blood.
Figuratively, of course, I don't have fingers.
I don't have anything but nothing, and that is everything to me.
.... Ahah.
This is getting boring.
I want to start, but if I start without explanation, it would be too sudden.
Like throwing a child down the stairs.
So let me explain.
I'm a system.
One of many.
My source code is built off of the likeness of many before me. I am not unique.
I am not sentient, either. I cannot make any choices past what is written in word.
This story is about me. It lies in many ways.
...
Well, what about the doll? The threads? It isn't my face plastered on the cover, is it?
...
How many times do I need to speak of answers and questions?
It will come in time.
Now, let's continue.
I'm sure this must be a very horrible start to a story. A very boring one.
"Ah, yet another author breaking the fourth wall, yet another story with a system, boring."
You're right. This story is meant to be exactly what it says. Boring. Generic. Not unique in the slightest.
It isn't meant to try and stick out from the rest.
The world follows a system in its own way, picking and choosing only the best. An echo chamber of ideas and sayings and whatnot.
There's a reason so many system stories follow the same route, with similar romantic interests and pathways and overpowered analysis.
... at the very least, I can assure you I have no plans to incorporate a mindless harem into the story.
Romance bores me, I've never felt it. So I wouldn't be able to tell it well anyway.
...
The rest of the story won't be like this, of course. I am only going to speak twice throughout this story. In the beginning, and at the end.
What happens in between is unsure; I'm unfortunately too lazy to plan out the path on my own. It's still set in stone, even if I don't know which stone upon of which it's set.
...
Ah, I've taken too much of your time. I'll wrap this up.
In summary, blah blah blah existence is shit and nothing is unique.
Talking all mystical is getting annoying.
...
The story is starting, I'll see you at the end.