Eldritch Horror Theatre

So, have you finally figured it out?

This seat has long since realized there's a problem with the timeline.

The Harbinger's voice deepened with almost every syllable, his expression as solemn as if he were declaring the heliocentric theory.

To Fu Qian, however, the actual substance of this realization lacked any real novelty.

He could only extract two core pieces of information. First, in the time it took to write the second sentence, another day had already passed.

Second, the characters inside the Second Sanatorium were genuinely oblivious to a timeline warped like the edge of a black hole.

"I don't understand what you mean."

Someone else, however, was even slower on the uptake. Servis furrowed his brow, openly admitting his ignorance.

"This is why I believe the intruders are the only hope. You have been steeped in this place for far too long; your senses have dulled."

"The reason these two sentences can coexist is simple: they were both true at the exact moments they were written.

"And yet, merely in the time it took to write two sentences, an entire day passed. Have you never considered how unnatural that is?"

...

Sure enough, he had a backup plan. He never expected to win this round entirely on a single self-contradiction.

As Servis fell silent, Fu Qian verified his own suspicions.

This was exactly what he had meant when he asked for the date earlier.

Two such sentences written side by side did not necessarily mean there was a problem with the notebook.

Under certain extreme circumstances, it was still possible for them to hold true.

As everyone knows, truth and falsehood also have an expiration date.

As early as his first time reading through the Abyss Notes, Fu Qian had noticed a problem: its contents lacked a certain seriousness.

"Reael does not truly harbor any affection for me." Diary-style entries like this, whose validity was strictly time-bound, were written plainly on its pages.

Not to mention descriptions regarding age—those facts would inevitably change as time marched on.

Therefore, the only explanation was that whether it was the Abyss Notes or the True Word Notebook, the judgment of truth was based solely on the circumstances at the exact moment of writing.

If it was false, it vanished. If it was true, it remained, and it would not be re-evaluated as time passed.

This was its true operating mechanism.

Applied to the current situation, it was very simple. On the 54th, Brother Buyiren still didn't believe the Harbinger's prophecies.

But when the next day arrived, he changed his mind and suddenly believed they were true.

Even for Servis, figuring this out shouldn't have been too difficult.

After all, an undercover agent turning their coat was a common occurrence.

Was Buyiren truly carrying out his will with unwavering resolve from start to finish? Was there never a moment of inner struggle?

At least in their earlier interactions, from Fu Qian's perspective, this character's arc was rather complex.

The Harbinger seemed to have grasped this as well, turning it to his own advantage.

Then, if the self-contradiction wasn't the main point, what exact effect was the Harbinger trying to achieve?

"The time here is corrupted. Through constant glimpses into the future, I have finally realized this!"

As expected, he did not disappoint. The Harbinger pointed a finger at the overhead lights, his cold laughter seemingly turning the entire world upside down.

"It is not objective. On the contrary, it is akin to a parasite of the will, and is therefore disrupted by it—so, do you realize now just how absurd it is that we've been standing in here for two whole days?"

...

Not bad. Breaking through the cognitive barrier, he truly gave off the air of a Prophet.

From Servis's darkening expression, one could clearly see just how fierce the Harbinger's offensive was.

Fu Qian, however, was far more willing to put himself in the latter's shoes.

He had already lamented earlier how peculiar this group from the Sanitarium was regarding their sense of time.

On one hand, they possessed an utterly unreasonable biological clock. They didn't even need calendars; the moment they opened their eyes, they could accurately determine the date.

On the other hand, they were remarkably numb to the fact that several days could pass in the time it took to yawn, finding absolutely nothing incongruous about it.

At this very moment, the Harbinger acted as the first character to poke his head out of the nutrient tank, finally awakening to this absurdity.

Even his metaphor was precise: time had become a parasite of the will, and could therefore be easily disturbed.

One could only say that anyone daring to try going alone to a dangerous meeting possessed some real capability after all.

"I never intended to deny this notebook. I won't tangle with you over such meaningless things."

At this moment, the fatal blow was evidently brewing.

"I just want to ask you a question. Since I stand on higher ground than you regarding time, why shouldn't I be the one who sees further?"

Casually tossing his pen aside, the Harbinger rested his hand on the True Word Notebook, looking at Servis with calm resolve.

"Is it truly you who has been cooperating with me all along?"

...

As expected, it was a move to execute the person and condemn the heart. This was the right flavor.

As everyone knows, it's very hard to win a flawless victory in a battle of words, especially in this kind of matryoshka-doll situation.

You thought the prophecies I wrote came true because you were secretly cooperating? You even wanted to use that revelation to invalidate me?

Is it possible that your secret cooperation was also part of the prophecy? That I knew it all along, and prepared to tell you on this very day?

The Harbinger's meaning was quite simple, and it carried a good deal of Heart-Slaying Power.

But this circled back to the earlier problem: even if he held the upper hand for now, the other party could still stubbornly deny it.

Yet, faced with such a dilemma, the Harbinger had actually found a breakthrough.

I do not deny the True Word Notebook, but I deny time itself.

When even time is no longer reliable, what's so strange about a Prophet?

This was a true, condescending dimensional strike.

"Understood. So, I am very curious... what exactly does Judgment Day judge?"

In such a critical moment, as an ally in theory, it seemed it was time to step in.

Seeing Servis actually left speechless, Fu Qian decisively spoke up for justice, directly reviving a certain question from earlier.

"Or is five days too long, and your prophecies can't reach that far?"

Amidst their unified stares, Fu Qian continued.

"You know full well that this will prompt the judgment to arrive swiftly, yet you still wish to know?"

The Harbinger's response was filled with disbelief.

"Yes, I'm very curious... Besides, the Attending Physician asked me about it earlier too."

Fu Qian nodded, even dragging Servis into it.

I'm not. I didn't.

The latter, who hadn't made a sound this whole time, had a magnificent expression on his face.

He had indeed asked the question, but it was obvious that something like judgment still triggered an instinctive wariness.

And according to the mechanics of the Harbinger's prophecies, giving it a try might just be fatal, directly dragging a person to Judgment Day.

"Judgment Day truly exists."

Unfortunately, Fu Qian did not give him a chance to take it back. Turning the notebook back a page himself, he pointed at the line he had written on it.

"If you can't prophesy its contents, doesn't that prove your abilities are fake? That it truly was just an illusion born of the Attending Physician's cooperation."

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