Fledgeling is, at its core, a game about your mind.
No, not the character’s mind, the player’s mind.
The mind that is reading this sentence right now.
Your mind is dumb. I want to build you a better one. Construct something new with the rubble that is left, once you have seen what I have seen.
Oh? Your “sanity” is strong? Perhaps it is. Perhaps it will withstand the blows, the rocking shift beneath your feet, as the soil turns to sea. Can your philosophy survive at twenty thousand feet underwater? Perhaps it will.
You may be blind to the implications. Perhaps, both unseeing and unhearing (or lashed upon the mast) you will sail past the sirens. You could come, unaltered, to familiar soil, and eat the same bread you ate before.
But then, if Fledgeling does not change you, why would you play at all?