There can't be a Harvest Moon in the RimWorld.

In my research on memes, I have gained some knowledge about the generation and spread of memes. Although I cannot achieve the formless and intangible nature of the "ultimate catastrophe," I have managed to create my own unique memes by cleverly combining language and sacred seals.

The theoretical breakthrough and successful replication of memes occurred entirely behind the gates of dreams, transcending all matter and consciousness, based solely on personal "truth." This, in a way, resonated with the primordial environment in which memes were conceived during the slumber of the "ultimate catastrophe"...

I hope to entrust this task to Hooker Jr. As my biggest opponent, he is probably the only one who can understand what I am doing.

This final shot, ending everything, will be loaded into my gun by "The Final Calamity," and Little Hook will pull the trigger for me...

In an environment where enemies are everywhere, are the only ones I can rely on? This is truly a cleverly twisted allegory, and a biting satire of my manipulative behavior in the first half of my life.

Time is running out...

Finding eternal life will be my final task for the rest of my time...

(This independent diary contains numerous metaphors and allegories. Most researchers believe it is a scathing political piece, recording a desperate political struggle. However, a small number of researchers believe that the dream gate mentioned in it is real, representing a bold exploration of the occult.)

However, until the existence of the figures mentioned in the diary is confirmed, further verification is impossible.

Chapter 191 The Nameless Diary: Final Chapter

In the time that followed, old Yorkson and I dreamt of a police station decades in the past, where young Hook performed a pantomime of a trapped animal struggling.

He was sometimes contemptuous, sometimes doubtful, sometimes gritting his teeth, sometimes dejected. But most of the time, he just futilely flipped through the manuscript, then stared blankly at the blank wall, lost in thought…

It was exactly the same nightmare I had the night I was imprisoned...

Old Yorkson seemed to have read my mind, but he neither admitted nor refuted it. He simply nodded knowingly and began to explain the background of the scene.

"For decades, I secretly began to investigate that indescribable existence without the knowledge of my companions who came to the island with me, and tried every means to suppress and expel it."

"In the early days, the Holy Seal played an extraordinary role. If the later miners hadn't dared to enter the lake's mines without authorization, none of this would have happened..."

"No... In the face of that being, all of this is probably just a matter of time... I should have known..."

His description gradually turned into muttering to himself, completely ignoring my presence.

"Later, the effects of the Holy Seal weakened, and I could only use my knowledge of spatial science and architecture to compensate and suppress the resurgence of that being..."

"But I was still wrong... The Holy Seal is not some panacea, but merely a crude disguise, not even as good as a stinking pond..."

"What I did... was as crude as primitive people smearing themselves with wild animal dung to avoid attacks... What kind of being are we sheltering under...?"

At that moment, the room began to shake. But my experience with nightmares in prison told me that it was a sign that the dream was about to collapse. Seeing that the situation was becoming critical, I quickly interrupted his description.

"What are you talking about? What does this have to do with me?"

Old Yorkson abruptly awoke from the chaos, a pair of complex eyes peeking out from under his hat brim. The person alive in this dream gasped for breath for a long time, as if drowning, breathing in oxygen that neither existed nor was needed, before gradually calming down.

"...I'm sorry, I haven't woken up for so long, I almost got lost in my forgotten memories."

After he calmed down, the dream indeed stabilized.

"Simply put, deep within the mountains of this small island lies a prison for a terrifying entity. What's connected to it is the Calamity Meme; the more people who know about it, the more its power leaks out, potentially even corrupting the land and unleashing hordes of terrifying creatures..."

"Was the terrifying singing back then also for this reason?"

"Yes... At that time, the calamity meme spread wildly, and its murmurs in dreams turned into terrifying songs, causing many people to lose their lives... The songs arose because of the meme, but the songs that kill are not memes. A meme is a meme, and it is nothing but a calamity."

I said with a sense of sympathy, "So...did you manage to suppress it later?"

Old Yorkson took a deep breath: "I was dying then, so I entrusted a heavy responsibility to young Hook and Doranco. According to my prediction, the influence of the terror would reach its lowest point after the town's collapse, and according to my plan, the disaster could be brought under control forever... Unfortunately, everything went wrong..."

I looked up and, through the even smaller window of the detention cell, saw the sky from that year—a crimson hue before its demise, as if countless lives had come to an end on that day…

"You... really can't expel that being?" I asked unwillingly, knowing that even decades later, it was only through the selfless dedication of a few people that the devastating catastrophe was slowed down, and no one was able to completely solve the problem.

Old Yorkson shook his head helplessly. "As long as that indescribable being awakens briefly from its eternal slumber, it will turn its gaze upon this world. From the moment we few dug into the mysterious space at the bottom of the mine, there was no way to escape this fate."

"If all those in the know die, this calamity will unleash tremendous power when the stars are out of alignment, invading this world. If there are too many people in the know, it will infect and spread the calamity meme, amplifying its destructive power."

"All we can do is suppress all of this, bear this curse for lifetimes to come, and fulfill our duty as guardians of the tomb..."

…………

Anonymous Diary

(This absurd statement was casually scribbled on the last page of the diary, serving as the ending to this book of madman's ramblings.)

The final plan is about to be implemented.

Thank God, little Hook recovered quickly from his breakdown. His willpower was stronger than I imagined. Perhaps I should have told him the whole story sooner?

No, no one but me could bear all of this for decades. How could a person with a sound mind and remaining rationality accept that their existence was not something they were born with, but rather something like walking blindfolded on the edge of a cliff, surviving only by escaping death countless times?

Hooker Jr. is already the best among them all.

I had placed my hopes on Antonio. But this courageous man, after learning everything, used his courage to end his own life. Thus, after a suicidal struggle, he happily and forever escaped his cursed fate…

First, all humans are fragile.

Second, only the bizarre can deal with the bizarre.

These are the two principles I've summarized.

Even when I reach old age and decay, I will not be so fragile as to run away from everything. I will become a being with both human reason and a strange body, forever fulfilling my mission.

Death itself is not frightening; what is frightening is the emptiness and helplessness that follows. As someone who has faced the end of time, I am no longer afraid.

Yesterday, I etched my own meme into the soul of Little Hook through his reading of that forbidden manuscript.

This meme has an effect similar to the "Final Catastrophe" meme. It can release the most powerful signal the moment two people discuss my final plan, pointing me in the direction of my return.

For the first time ever, Little Hook has reached an agreement with my enemy, promising to spread the meme at the agreed-upon timeline, signaling my return. I will climb the vines of the underworld, traverse the abyss of death, and return to this world to complete my unfinished mission…

Today, I've also left myself a backup plan. While concealing from Doranco my impending return from death, I persuaded him to release his bloodline at a crucial juncture, transforming into a monster to take my place as a dying man in sealing the "Final Calamity."

Of course, this is just a precaution. The freak that Doranco has become will temporarily take my place until I return, but ultimately only I can complete the mission of exorcising it. I already know the weakness in his bloodline; that savagery deeply ingrained in his soul will erase all traces of responsibility, catalyzing him into a complete freak…

My existence is the last bastion to drive away the "ultimate calamity" and defend against Doranco.

Tomorrow will be my last day as a human. I will summon the "Spirit of the Stars" according to the secret method of that cult of human skin. Merging with that immortal body, I will become the shadow behind time, forever guarding this land...

(At this point in the diary, the language is extremely incoherent and the content is absurd. Does this mean that immortality is the ultimate pursuit of mankind? Since I, the last curious person, have given up the study, the research on this diary will also come to an end, and the diary will be sealed forever deep in the library of the Inaki History Club.)

May the Holy Spirit forgive this pitiful person who is so absurd and delusional.

Chapter 192 Miscalculation

"..."

Looking at this distinguished middle-aged man in front of me, I suddenly felt a little sorry for him.

In his dream, he depicted himself as being in his fifties, corresponding to the period of intense construction of the mining town, a phase of 100 days of rapid development. Psychologically speaking, this represents…

Forget psychology, you can tell from the barrage comments that he wants to live another 500 years!

He himself was a ruthless figure comparable to Tal Rasha. In Diablo, the archmage Tal Rasha, in order to seal Baal, directly embedded the Demon Lord's Soul Stone into his own body and sealed himself in an ancient tomb. Within his own body, for countless years, he began a protracted battle against the demons.

Old Yorkson, in order to possess eternal life and to perpetually defend against the world's erosion and calamities, summoned the evil beings from the ancient books. According to the books, the interstellar vampires, once summoned, would immediately attack the summoner, thus his aging body became the monster's food.

However, Old Yorkson's consciousness, using a secret technique obtained behind the Dream Gate, successfully merged into the core of a space vampire's consciousness as he was devoured.

Due to the limitations of this summoning ritual, the monster would be banished from this space upon the death of the summoner. Old Yorkson's consciousness hid in a distorted interstellar space along with the monster, waiting for Old Man Hook to summon him back as planned.

Even at this moment, he remained confident that he could completely erase the consciousness of the interstellar vampire and possess an indestructible body.

Just as Tarasha was ultimately tortured to death by the Demon King, his body also possessed by evil, Yorkson Proviston's plan also went beyond his expectations.

The first surprise was that the consciousness of interstellar vampires was vastly different from that of humans. In contrast to the vast ocean of human consciousness and subconsciousness, the core of the consciousness of interstellar vampires resembled a barren piece of land.

That narrow piece of land was perpetually haunted by evil whispers, blasphemous murmurs, deadly chaos, and an eternal thirst for blood and life. Therefore, old Yorkson could only use complex dream techniques to gradually erode the monster's consciousness, slowly seizing territory.

The second unexpected event was that Hooker, entrusted with the crucial task, failed to send a return signal as planned. Even across the vast universe and chaotic space, he could sense that his unique meme lay dormant, unresponsive...

The third unexpected event, built upon the foundations of the first two, occurred over a long period of time.

"The supernatural is a non-human existence. Trying to control it with a human heart will only bring misfortune," Old Yorkson said in a deep voice, bowing his head as he stated his conclusion.

"The monster consciousness that I stripped away did not completely dissipate. Instead, it wriggled from the scattered debris into a venomous snake. While I was focused on conquering territory, it injected a venom called madness into my body."

"I waited for countless years in the distorted interstellar gaps, almost becoming one with that desolate world. Can you imagine? I was imprisoned in a dark, sunless cage, my heart stopped beating and my breath stopped, enduring the penetration and radiation of high-energy particles, yet I could never die..."

"During these horrific years of imprisonment, I found myself increasingly out of control. Every day, there would be periods when I lost control of my body, waving my tentacles in the void, emitting sharp, cold laughs, stumbling foolishly and ignorantly through the stars..."

"It was then that I realized the interstellar vampire's psychic venom had spread throughout my entire consciousness. Under the influence of this terrifying power, I was evolving into a monster just like it..."

"I desperately need to return to Earth to resist the spread with the Holy Seal and the Gate of Dreams, but it seems I'll never receive a signal to return..."

I'm certain that the old man was tricked.

Old Man Hook lived a good life in the years that followed, and there was no possibility that he had encountered any accidents—this old man is probably still alive in some corner of the world!

The meme old Yorkson mentioned is strikingly similar to the figure I encountered in my prison nightmares. It's clear how Old Man Hooker managed to leave the meme with me. But he himself never intended to keep his promise and bring back his deceased loved ones!

I noticed that besides his obvious air of nobility, he also possessed a subtle arrogance and conceit. It was a sense of superiority built upon his knowledge, experience, and moral cultivation.

When he alone took on the task of fighting the "final calamity," he had no companions in his heart.

This arrogance led him to devise a crazy plan, which ultimately failed miserably after a desperate gamble.

Old Yorkson quickly stood up, his expression returning to what had been hidden in the shadows, seemingly forgetting his misfortune.

"Old Yorkson, how did you get back here?"

"This may have been an accident. Over the long years, my will was gradually assimilated by the interstellar vampires, leaving only remnants of my memories guarding my isolated island of consciousness, surrounded by the madness of monster consciousness. As a result, I lost control of my body and became blind and deaf."

"This interstellar vampire must have reverted to its cruel nature and was attracted by the anomalies in Mineral Town. It came here through a rift in the corrosive space. Its severely damaged core gave me an opportunity to take advantage of it."

I nodded; I understood the process. Back then, Gray and I were on standby in the corner the whole time, with a good view of the ever-changing battlefield.

But is this coincidence... really that simple?

“That’s the only explanation,” old Yorkson replied decisively, seeing through my thoughts.

"...It's very impolite to keep reading other people's thoughts! Can you please tone it down a bit!" I said, dissatisfied.

But old Yorkson asked, puzzled, "In this dream, is there a difference between your thoughts and words to me? Do you really have vocal organs?"

"Okay...you make a good point..."

In my ghostly state, am I just a human-shaped writing board to him?

"Next question: how do I kill the giant Deep One outside?"

Before answering your question, let me show you my conversation with Doranco.