當阿誠在地下室見到年老的自己後，他終於明白古屋隱藏的不只是秘密，而是整個輪迴的核心。而那本記錄無數世界命運的日記，也即將翻到最後一頁。
After encountering an older version of himself beneath the house, Cheng realizes that the journal is more than a record of events. It is a map of every cycle, every lost world, and every failed attempt to escape the Boundary. Only one page remains unread.
中文
地下室陷入死一般的寂靜。那名蒼老的阿誠站在堆積如山的日記之間，昏黃燈光映照著他滿是皺紋的臉孔。年輕的阿誠無法理解眼前發生的一切。他曾穿越冰封地球、跨越宇宙邊境、看見深淵背後的無數世界，但沒有任何景象比此刻更讓人不寒而慄。老人緩緩走向書堆，從最上方取下一本破舊日記。封面早已磨損，頁面泛黃發黑，看起來比其他日記更加古老。他將日記遞給阿誠，低聲說這是第一本。阿誠翻開內容後，發現記錄的並非自己，而是一名來自完全陌生世界的人。那個世界同樣存在古屋，同樣存在海門與深淵，而最後也同樣走向毀滅。接著老人又拿起第二本、第三本、第四本。每一本都來自不同文明。有些文明擁有超越人類的科技，有些則仍停留在原始時代。但所有故事最終都回到同樣的結局。找到古屋、打開門、進入深淵、抵達邊境，然後再次回到古屋。阿誠終於明白地下室裡堆放的根本不是日記，而是一座由失敗構成的墓園。小玲則注意到牆上的照片開始發生變化。原本靜止的人影竟逐漸移動起來。照片中的人們不斷重複相同行為，像被困在某段永遠無法結束的時間裡。有些人拼命逃離古屋，有些則主動走進地下室。可無論怎樣選擇，最後都會回到原點。阿傑站在角落，神情越來越古怪。他忽然低聲說自己終於想起全部記憶。他不是第一次來到這裡，也不是第二次。事實上，他已經經歷過數百次輪迴。每一次他都試圖改變結局，但從未成功。老人平靜點頭，彷彿早已知道答案。然後他帶著三人走向地下室最深處。那裡有一道從未見過的鐵門。門上沒有鎖，只有一行刻字。當故事結束時，請翻開最後一頁。老人推開鐵門後，眾人看見一張孤零零的木桌。桌面放著一本厚重日記。與其他日記不同，它的封面沒有名字。老人告訴他們，這是所有輪迴共同留下的最後紀錄。從來沒有人看完最後一頁。阿誠緩緩翻開。前面的內容記錄著所有已知事件，包括他們剛剛經歷的一切。直到最後一頁出現時，所有人同時屏住呼吸。那頁紙上只有短短幾行文字。內容並非預言，而是一段警告。上面寫著：如果你正在閱讀這一頁，代表你已經抵達輪迴終點。你以為自己正在尋找答案，但事實上，你就是答案的一部分。古屋並非牢籠，也不是門。它是一把鑰匙。真正被封印的東西，從來不在深淵之外，而在人類記憶深處。就在阿誠讀完最後一句時，地下室忽然劇烈震動。所有日記同時自動翻頁。數以萬計紙張快速翻動，形成震耳欲聾的聲浪。牆上的照片開始燃燒，無數影像從火焰裡浮現。阿誠看見不同世界的自己、不同命運的小玲與阿傑。他們有些成功逃離古屋，有些死在深淵裡，但所有人最後都在尋找同一樣東西。記憶。老人忽然露出疲憊笑容。他說終於到了。接著身體開始化為灰燼。與此同時，地下深處傳來巨大心跳聲。那聲音比山底的黑色心臟更加古老。桌上的最後一頁緩緩浮現新的文字。只有一句話。阿誠看見後，臉色瞬間蒼白。因為那句話寫著：「現在，輪到你寫下下一頁了。」
English Version
Silence settled over the underground chamber as the older Cheng stood among mountains of journals stretching into the darkness. The young survivors had crossed frozen worlds, witnessed collapsing realities, and stared into the abyss beyond time itself, yet nothing felt as unsettling as this forgotten room beneath the house. The old man moved slowly toward a stack of weathered books and selected one from the very top. Its cover was cracked with age, its pages fragile and stained by centuries. He explained that it was the first journal ever written. When Cheng opened it, he expected to find familiar events. Instead he discovered the account of someone from another world entirely. Different skies. Different people. Yet the same house. The same doorway. The same descent into darkness. The old man continued pulling journals from the shelves. One belonged to a civilization capable of traveling between stars. Another came from a world that never developed beyond stone tools. Every story followed a different path, but all arrived at the same destination. The house. The gate. The abyss. The return. Cheng slowly understood that the room did not contain records. It contained evidence. Evidence that countless civilizations had already failed. Across the chamber, Ling noticed something even stranger. The photographs covering the walls were no longer still. Figures trapped inside them began moving like fragments of forgotten films. Some desperately ran from the house. Others willingly stepped through its doors. Yet every image eventually repeated the same sequence before returning to the beginning. Jie remained silent for a long time before finally speaking. He confessed that memories had started returning to him. Not memories from childhood or from their recent journey, but from previous cycles. Hundreds of them. He remembered dying in different ways, making different choices, and reaching different versions of the Boundary. Every attempt ended exactly the same. The old man showed no surprise. Instead, he led them deeper beneath the house. At the end of a narrow corridor stood a heavy iron door none of them had seen before. Carved into the metal was a simple sentence. When the story ends, turn to the last page. Beyond the door waited a single wooden table. Upon it rested a journal unlike any other. It bore no name. The old man explained that this book belonged to every cycle. Every civilization. Every traveler who had ever reached this place. No one had ever finished reading it. Cheng carefully opened the journal. The early pages described events they already knew. The house. The mountain. The sea gate. The frozen Earth. The Boundary. Everything was there. Then he reached the final page. The room grew silent. There was no prophecy waiting for them. No hidden solution. Only a message. It read: If you are reading this page, you have reached the end of the cycle. You believe you came here searching for answers. The truth is that you are part of the answer. The house is not a prison. It is not a gate. It is a key. What was sealed away was never beyond the abyss. It was hidden within memory itself. The instant Cheng finished reading, the chamber erupted with movement. Every journal opened simultaneously. Thousands of pages turned on their own, creating a deafening roar that echoed through the darkness. Photographs ignited across the walls. Images emerged from the flames. Different versions of Cheng. Different versions of Ling and Jie. Some escaped. Some perished. Some reached impossible worlds. Yet every one of them searched for the same thing. Memory. The old man smiled for the first time. Relief softened his expression as his body slowly dissolved into ash. Far below the chamber, a heartbeat began echoing through the earth. Older than the sea gate. Older than the abyss itself. Then new words appeared on the final page. Fresh ink slowly formed across the paper. Cheng stared at the sentence and felt the color drain from his face. It contained only a single line. “Now it is your turn to write the next page.”
