角色故事•四（解锁条件：角色等级80）
时至今日，沐浴神性的织机仍在不停轮转，众多衣匠飘摇于半空，无人知道它们是为何而舞动，又是为何而休止。
「衣匠，请前往广场，那里有我们远道而来的客人……」
这样的场景似乎重复过很多次。以往是她走向别人，现在是别人走向她。
彼时彼刻，那身着银白铠甲的青年站在此处，稚气未脱的脸庞被仇恨和血污浸染。
紫裙的少女静默无声，她所行之地，冰冷的死亡会掺杂着幽深的花香。
还有一位飞贼像猫儿似的从奥赫玛消失，但她仍当这是场滑稽的恶作剧。
那如微光般温暖的女孩，也曾治愈过她的伤痕。
还有那异邦的王储，高傲的学者——
「如果一根丝线不够，那么就让千千万万根丝线拉起天穹……」
她寻找着，牵引着各异的命运之线，将他们连缀为强韧的网，然后，那网会扑向泰坦的火种，令它们在新的世界再度燃烧。
「黄金裔们，会一同编织出璀璨夺目的未来。」
在等待的间隙，她来到窗边，俯瞰着熙熙攘攘的奥赫玛城。
「衣匠，再为我沏一杯热茶吧。」
她感到些许寒冷，但她的心已不再为往事的悲伤而悸动。
无形的金线自她的指尖向外延展，城邦的脉搏与心跳，风声与雨声，都在她的指尖跃动、颤抖，就像浪漫之神诞下的灵感，孕育着新生命的搏动——
她端详已久，终是收起了少女时代裁剪的华服。
「哪怕，最后只能身着素衣……」
相传每一位「墨涅塔」的信众，往往都会耗费一生的辛劳，向神明献上自己所认为「至美」的作品。
她已很久没有编织过美丽的衣物了。
Character Story: Part IV
• Unlocked at Character Level 80
To this day, the divine loom spins relentlessly, with numerous Garmentmakers hovering in midair. No one knows why they dance or why they rest.
"Garmentmaker, please head to the plaza. We have guests who have traveled from afar..."
This scene had unfolded countless times before. In the past, she was always the one reaching out, and now, it was others who sought her.
At that moment, a young man in silver-white armor stands there, his youthful face marred by hatred and bloodstains.
The girl in the purple dress remains silent, leaving a trail of chilling death mingled with the deep fragrance of flowers wherever she goes.
A thief, as stealthy as a cat, vanishes from Okhema, but she dismisses it as merely a silly prank.
The girl, warm as a faint light, had once healed her scars.
And then there is the crown prince from the outlands, the proud scholar —
"If one thread isn't enough, then let a myriad of threads lift the sky..."
She seeks out diverse threads of fate, intertwining them into a resilient net. This net would launch toward the Titans' Coreflames, rekindling it afresh in a new world.
"The Chrysos Heirs will together weave a dazzlingly bright future."
During a brief pause, she steps up to the window, overlooking the bustling city of Okhema below.
"Garmentmaker, brew me another cup of hot tea, please."
She shivers slightly, yet her heart is no longer stirred by the sorrows of the past.
Invisible golden threads spill from her fingertips, intertwining with the city-state's pulse and heartbeat, with the whisper of wind and patter of rain — all resonating under her touch, like inspiration conjured by the god of romance, pulsing with the promise of new life.
After deep thought, she carefully packs away the ornate garments she had crafted in her youth.
"Even if, in the end, I must wear nothing but plain clothes..."
Legend holds that every disciple of Mnestia devotes their entire life to crafting what they deem to be the Ultimate Beauty to present to their deity.
It's been a long time since she crafted beautiful garments.
Yet, she has never ceased weaving the threads of destiny.
