It was cloudy the day I arrived at Fontaine. The damp and cold feeling of water vapor and fog in the air was very similar to the scene she described. The water flowed through the edge of the city, brushing against the metal pontoon and stone steps. The tower in the distance had transparent glass windows, flashing dim light under the gray-blue sky. This city is so quiet and almost indifferent, but it hides countless travelers like me who have nowhere to go. I came here to accomplish a certain goal. This idea is so clear, but also so empty. You know, those goals – upgrades, rewards, values, reputation – are all visible reasons. But the real driving force is often those things you can’t say. Like loss, like a blank. Some people say that to activate the daily commission system of Fontaine, you must first complete two main plots. Their names sound like poems: “Prologue to White Dew and Black Tide” and “Light Rain Falling Like No Reason”. I completed them. In the process, I have seen death, judgment and forgiveness. I have also seen the boundless blue deep in the sea, like the deepest hidden place in a person’s heart. This water country is not just a map to me. It is like a mirror that reflects some parts that I have long forgotten. That silence, that waiting. Then, I walked into the branch of the Adventurer’s Association. The woman named Catherine stood behind the counter. Her tone was always calm and emotionless. “You have completed the conditions, and now you can start the world quest of “Adventure Towards the Distance.” I heard my own voice say, “Okay.” After that, daily commissions fell into my daily life like drops of water. Four small things, scattered in various corners of the city and the suburbs. Sometimes it is to find scattered mechanical devices, and sometimes it is to deliver letters for an unknown researcher. They are repetitive and regular, just like my life over the years. Quiet, mechanical, but can’t stop. I began to get used to these tasks. Began to get familiar with the breathing rhythm of this city. The reputation value gradually increased, and I could feel the system’s acceptance of me, a stranger. It was not a warm hug, but a slow and forbearing temperature, like a not-so-bright lamp at night, silently keeping the light for you. Rewards began to appear. Props, drawings, and usage rights. They are exquisite and useful, but they can’t really fill the invisible holes in my heart. You know, there are always some things that cannot be replaced by material things-memories, someone’s voice, and silence after a failure. I was often distracted when performing tasks in Fontaine. I would stop to look at the reflection of a tower in the distance, or a girl sitting alone on a street corner. They don’t talk to me, maybe they are just NPCs in the game, but their quiet existence is very similar to people I once knew. Those who once stood on the edge of my life quietly left when no one noticed. I always think that the so-called reputation is just a way for the city to encode your memory. The more you help it and complete its tasks, the more it remembers you. But such memory is based on function, not emotion. It can be replaced, refreshed and reset. But I still come back every day. Daily commissions are like a kind of ritual for me – establishing order for life and drawing a controllable boundary for the chaos in my heart. It makes me feel that I still have choices and am actively participating in something. Even if it is just to complete a task list. You asked me: “Is it worth it?” I have no way to answer such a question as yours. The word worth is too rational, it tries to measure the reward of an experience. But what I want to say is that I have truly existed in this process. I once heard my heartbeat underwater. After completing a mission, I once stood alone on a stone bridge in the mist, silently watching the light fall into the water. In those moments, I remembered who I was. And that may be the whole reason.
