{
    "fluid.kubejs.fluid_cryotheum": "Gelid Cryotheum",
    "fluid.kubejs.fluid_petrotheum":"Tectonic Petrotheum",
    "fluid.kubejs.fluid_aerotheum":"Zephyrean Aerotheum",
    "fluid.kubejs.fluid_pyrotheum":"Blazing Pyrotheum",
    "fluid.kubejs.fluid_redstone":"Destabilized Redstone",
    "item.kubejs.package_glass_cable":"Packedage ME Glass Cable",
    "gas.kubejs.fire_water":"Fire Water",
    "gas.kubejs.dew_of_the_void":"Dew Of The Void",
    "gas.kubejs.chaos_fluid":"Chaos Fluid",


    "quest.kubejs.end":"There was a man stranded on a solitary island. He possessed the power to create anything—yet he could not take a single step beyond its shores. He held within his grasp every possibility the world could offer, except for one: the possibility of leaving.\n\nThis is the reality for some—those who find themselves stranded in a particular kind of confinement.\n\nConsider those trapped within memory. For someone with Alzheimer's, their world becomes an island slowly eroded by a surrounding void. They can vividly recall the distant past but cannot hold onto what happened moments ago. They can journey back to their childhood within their mind, yet fail to recognize the face of their dearest loved one standing before them. They possess the entire universe of their past, everything except access to the \"now.\"\n\nConsider those imprisoned within their own bodies. Individuals with ALS, severe disabilities, or long-term bedridden conditions. Their minds remain acutely aware, their desires and dreams are no different from anyone else's, but their bodies have become an empty island from which they cannot depart. They can communicate with the world through their eyes, through the faintest movements, yet so often, the world fails to decipher these fragile signals.\n\nConsider those confined by loneliness. People grappling with social anxiety, on the autism spectrum, or suffering from severe depression. It's not that they lack the desire to break free; rather, a force—gentle yet inexorable—continually pulls them back to the edge. They stand at the periphery of human connection, watching others come and go, yet find themselves unable to take that step forward.\n\nThese individuals, much like us, hold a kind of \"disk.\" They, too, possess creativity, memories, longings, and love. They can build entire cities within their own inner worlds. But their disk is missing one crucial file—the one that would enable them to take the step that leads beyond the island's edge.\n\nAnd what can we do—we who stand on the other side of that void?\n\nPerhaps it is simply to see. To notice the light flickering on those distant islands, to perceive those figures poised at the edge of the abyss. Perhaps it is to offer a response. To transform that distant glimmer into a moment of genuine connection. Perhaps it is simply to wait. Not with impatient urging, not with self-righteous attempts to rescue, but to sit quietly, making our presence known—letting them understand: someone is here, someone remembers, someone is waiting.\n\nBecause, in the end, we are all, in some sense, solitary islands. The difference lies only in this: for some, a bridge connects their island to the mainland; for others, the shore meets nothing but an endless void. Yet above every island, the same clouds drift, and the same starlight gleams.\n\nIf you see someone sitting at the edge of the void, don't rush to pull them back. First, sit down beside them. Let your own legs dangle over the edge. Keep them company for a while, as you both gaze into the distance.\n\nAnd then, perhaps one day, they will take that step on their own.\n\nPerhaps they never will. And that would be okay, too.\n\nBecause true companionship is never about changing someone. It is simply about letting them know: in the vastness of this void, they are not awake alone.\n\nWhen you feel a sense of abundance and fulfillment in your own life, please remember those on the empty islands. Your very existence is often the companionship they most long for. And when we all come to understand that authentic care is not about giving, but about being present—only then will our world hold fewer isolated islands, and more landmasses connected, piece by piece."
}