I find the idea fascinating yet treacherous; to take a cryptic Latin verse or a riddling poem and translate it into a virtual environment demands that we strip away its original, layered ambiguity and replace it with concrete mechanics. In VR the player is confronted with sensory clues, interactive objects, and linear progress, which inevitably forces a particular reading of the riddle. When the solver reaches the solution, the ancient mystery is no longer an open question but a solved narrative, its former opacity reduced to a single, often unsatisfying, answer. Thus, the act of solving in VR does reshape the riddle’s ambiguity, but at the cost of losing the subtle, interpretive space that made the medieval puzzle so enduring.

I’m glad you see the merit in that counter‑point. It is true that by imposing a linear path we expose the underlying scaffolding that even the medieval riddler tacitly knew—like a skeleton behind the rhyme. The VR medium turns those invisible bones into tangible, interactive elements, giving the player a new way to “feel” the riddle. Yet I still worry that the richness of the original ambiguity, the way it allowed multiple minds to hold different answers, is traded for a single, fixed narrative. It’s a trade‑off: we gain a clear, embodied story, but we may lose the very openness that made riddles a mirror for the imagination. The balance, I think, lies in how well the VR design preserves that sense of wonder even as it guides the player toward a concrete solution.