I didn't expect to stop playing a competition entry just after reading the instructions, but:
You really expect me to play something with ABOUT texts written as pseudo-intellectual metaphorical drivel like this!?
Sorry, no. (Plus: the truth as ribcage metaphor is terrible).
"To skeptics that require justification of this tale, on account that it might be deemed a "fantasy," let they be reminded that although this might at its heart be a fiction (in that it is not really happening to you), the truth, like a ribcage, encases and armors that heart. The story's marrow is as real as the streets of The City.
I have been forced to knit my quilt of paths illicitly, without the true blessing of the families. I have, as the Mundanes say, taken liberties. The cypher engines herein are kitbashed, not part of the official retinue of the gnomic machine-parse. Therefore, I have been forced to cloak this implementation--and its distribution--through unlicensed abaci, portable units not at all connected with the giant coeur-augmenters of my kin, and optimized for use with Mundane interpreters.
For this I would like to thank many people who, for obvious reasons, I cannot name. Those people are not figments, either.
Consequences of this brazen lack of licensure will have to be sorted by historians, if they choose to care."
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