War cannot solve all contradictions, and if there is a war that can solve all contradictions, then this war must be a war that brings about the end. All are going to die......

I heard an illusory voice again, as if it had come out of my own thoughts, but I knew that it might not be the sound I had "imagined". I could feel a deep change, the world was constantly changing, the closer I got to the end, the more drastic the change became, but the change I could feel was more close to the essence than this drastic change - I felt that it was my own delusion, but if it wasn't an illusion, it meant that a stronger shock was coming.

For occult experts, these feelings in the dark, and the sounds heard in a trance, are an inexplicable omen. My instinct told myself that this time the omen was coming from another me, the prosthetic Takakawa. There is an indispensable connection between us, a connection that prevents us from staying out of the situation when something happens to one side, no matter how far away, even if it is a distance of thought and emotion, and the storm caused by one will inevitably weigh on the other in a more direct way than the other.

At this moment, as if for no reason, two thoughts suddenly popped up in my mind: "conscious walking" and "monsters in the collective subconscious of human beings". When these two ideas emerge, more and more expansive ideas continue to diverge around these two ideas. I don't have a subjective desire to think about it, but it's closer to instinct and human nature. I can probably guess that there must be another me, the prosthetic Takakawa, who has some kind of direct connection with the act of "consciousness walking" and the existence of "monsters in the collective human subconscious" - although there is no evidence, it is probably the prosthetic Takakawa who walked deeply and accidentally encountered a monster in the collective human subconscious...... Because I didn't see it with my own eyes, I can't know what the situation led to at that time, but I can imagine that it will definitely not be a slight change, and further, the changes that occurred at that time will lead to a chain of even greater changes.

"Bigger storms are coming." I wrote this in my diary. This sentence is interspersed in the diary like an adventure, but it is not fully integrated into the plot, it is like an abrupt insertion, and probably others will be confused when they read it. But it doesn't matter, this adventurous diary has never been organized, but all the clues that seem messy and abrupt interspersed in it burst out from the same source, and will eventually converge to an end, as long as there is a thread of thought in it, these unorganized messes are also powerful.

No, I should say that I hope that the diary recorded in this way will give me the strength of my heart. Otherwise, what's the point of me recording my own personal experience like this?

I stopped my pen and rubbed my temples. My experience was too incredible, full of contradictions and doubts that even I could not answer, even if everything was observed by myself, there were still many doubts, which made me wonder whether my observations were comprehensive enough, or that once all the things I observed at that time were written into my diary and re-examined, I would find a lot of evidence that proved that my observations and understandings at that time were too one-sided. What's more, this diary has undergone terrible changes in the apocalyptic vision, and many things that I have not observed have been written in it by another non-existent me.

When did this entirely first-person adventure diary begin to be mixed with a mix of third person? I was amazed at this, but the third-person story didn't disappear because of my attention, it grew and strengthened when I didn't know it, and even the people and events in it were no less than the first-person stories I told myself. In the midst of such elusive and mysterious stories, there are facts that I have not observed—from the beginning of my suspicion to now, I am quite certain that those third-person stories are indeed true, and that they are recorded and adapted from the perspective of others.

Because it's a real adaptation, I can benefit from it and learn a lot of things that I wouldn't have known before.

Even so, I have also confirmed in some of the gaps between the story and the facts that the diary is really just like it, full of embellishments and techniques as I originally chose to write it, thus obscuring the truthfulness and accuracy of many of the details. Just as the people I meet today—those who are implied to be physically dead in the account of this diary, and those who have fallen into consciousness as a result of the impact of the repeater collision—are in the same place at such times.

For example: File, Jung, Shepherd, Magician, Ballerina, Billy, etc., many of the companions and enemies I have encountered in the past apocalyptic visions.

Just by reading the stories in the diary, it's easy to think that these people don't exist anymore, or that they're gone. Because in the diary, in the huge impact of consciousness caused by the collision of the Las Vegas repeater and the Area 51 repeater, the fate of these people is either ignored or covered up with Spring and Autumn brushwork, which makes people subconsciously have a feeling of "they never have a chance to appear again" - if it is just a story, of course, this is fine, but when there is a more rigorous and cruel truth behind this story, it is impossible for these people and things to ignore the past.

They can't be ignored, and they are standing in front of my eyes at this moment. I still vividly remember the strong sense of surprise that arose in my heart when Tomie and I stood outside the gate of the huge labyrinth and saw Jung coming out in person—not only accidents, but almost all human emotions were breeding, some kind, some hesitant, and of course some malice—but such a wealth of emotions proved that I really didn't expect them to appear at such a moment, in such a scene, in such a way.

Obviously, it is to determine whether there is a place for the Torchlight Deviation Ritual to intervene, and to observe from a closer distance how much influence its deviation will have on the direction of the world. At first, I only thought that I would need to deal with many people I didn't know, but the first thing that appeared in front of me was all acquaintances who had some relationship with me—these acquaintances who seemed to have been hinted at in the diary to leave, all of them had gathered in the Torchlight's deviation ritual, and, if you analyzed it carefully, you still felt that there was indeed a reason for them to survive and gather in this place.

Cyberball did what Cyberball was supposed to do, but it failed to save NOG. NOG others who can't count on the netball, or rather, who didn't count on the netball from the beginning, have already started to save themselves. Subjectively, of course, they expect Cyberball's London Repeater to do better, but, objectively speaking, these tried and secret experts never put hope in the same basket, and never felt that they were all the way to Cyberball from start to finish, and they never expected Cyberball to prioritize themselves at their limits.

As a result, while the Cyber Ball in NOG was still executing the plan of the Cyber Ball, the others also left the Cyber Ball to execute their own plans. Their existence here today is the result of the success of their own plans. There are more people who have survived this terrible war than me, more than Netball, and perhaps even more than Dorothy has calculated and guessed.

The successive appearance of these acquaintances has proved to me that repeaters are not omnipotent, and it is not that there is nothing to do without repeaters, and it may be difficult to replace the strength of repeaters, but there are so many mysteries in this world that there will always be situations where even repeaters cannot do anything.

From my own point of view, no matter how many reasons there are, it feels like a dream. Although I forcibly appeared calm and strong when we met again, I knew very well that my emotions at that time were very irrational and chaotic, and even if I was surprised, I was happy and difficult to think in a bad direction. Even if you calm down now, it is difficult to clear your mind and judge how the facts in front of you will affect your plan, whether it is good or bad.

If the Torchlight Deviation Ritual had only involved people I didn't know well, I might have been able to think in a calm light, but now I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do to get the best of both worlds...... No, it should be said that when I can't help but have the idea of "the best of both worlds", I have already proven myself to be out of shape.

Because, in this cruel world, there is absolutely no way to have the best of both worlds, or in other words, the meaning of the best of both worlds is very ambiguous, and it is a trap in itself.

At this moment, I am doing here, thinking, recounting, all this seeing, hearing, thinking and thinking, all of which make me smell the danger of being involuntarily, like a caged bird, and once again weigh down from the darkness.

I stopped writing, relaxed as much as I could, and put the pen back in the pen holder. Tomie's voice came from behind him, "It looks annoying, dear." ”

I let out an "um", I can't hide this kind of trouble in front of Tomie at all. I turned my head and saw her lying on the bed in erotic underwear, obviously the lights had been dimmed, but there was no sign of falling asleep, but stretching her joints, doing soft exercises that may not be useful, in fact, such a scene would have made people complain, but I still couldn't help it, Tomie always does something that looks normal, but when you think about it, it's not normal at all, and her people and things are always hovering on the edge of humanity and inhumanity. Perhaps in the eyes of others, Tomie is also a woman with mental problems, even a terrible, weird guy who can hardly be called a "woman", but in any case, her figure is the best of any woman I've ever seen.

Jung said that you can go at any time, so why not find out sooner? Anyway, it's useless to think about it here, and looking at his appearance, he should tell you most of the situation, so as to win your help. Tomie bent her waist into a posture that ordinary people would never be able to do, and her exaggerated movements made it impossible for her underwear to hide the intimacy of her body, not to mention that her intimacy was extremely full, and the fine sweat slid on her toned and slender muscle texture, exuding an exuding a smell that made people excited but couldn't tell what it was. She doesn't have any ideas to hide about this, and I'm used to her gesture. Even if you don't count the time when I died, it has already passed since I married her......

It's incredible, it's only been less than two years, but it makes me feel like it's been a long, long time. Even to this day, I can still remember every love we had, every detail of those moments, and the physical and mental pleasure that came back from regurgitation. However, this kind of memory does bring an extremely long sense of time, as if a lifetime has passed.

There was a gap between the sense of time and the real time, and I just felt that I was falling into a gorgeous dream.

"What's wrong? Achuan. Tomie's voice woke me up from my trance.

"No, it's nothing, I'm fascinated." I said this to her, because, there is no more accurate description than "fascinated".

"Really? Then you'll have to do it four times tonight. Tomie stared at me, the colors in his eyes seemed to be dark and deep, and there was a warmth that seemed like yesterday, and people couldn't help but want to immerse themselves in it.

When I came back to my senses, I was already entangled with her, as if time had been cut off in part, and I couldn't remember what I had said or done to her before this, as if we had been stuck like this all along. I was wrapped in her plumpness and warmth, and the collision and friction of my skin made my consciousness seem to enter her deeply every time, becoming a part of her body, an embryo that was taking shape, a baby about to be born. I found something indescribable and indescribable in her body, in her movements, in her every breath and in that hazy voice, as if her existence was the "answer" itself. I felt like I had been poisoned, poisoned by the inhuman poison I loved.

Even so, my consciousness was still sinking......

Even when it sinks, I never want to stop there......

Because it never stops, no matter how deep I sink, I will eventually wake up......