Forgotten Island, I Am a Deserted Island

I woke up on a desert island beach with the diary I wrote in 1874 next to me. The giant whale skeleton on the seabed held up a girl. She asked me: "Are you an island or a survivor of this generation?" I am both a stage and an actor. Every time I let a survivor go crazy in the historical tragedy, my island expands a little; every time I let a survivor go, a piece of my body collapses. When the last companion chose to stay for me, I realized that the ultimate reward of this survival game was to become a god or fall into nothingness.