When the World Loses Its Color, I Witness the Paradox of the End

(Fourth recorder) My writing is recording the end of two worlds. Write "I am who I am" on the tip of the pen, and the ninety-nine ink pen becomes a creation artifact. But I am not a god, I am just a "typist" recording the story of another universe - Zhong Che. The story attracted an "audience." They don't love stories, they're just angry about being recorded. Now, they found me. The fate of two universes rests on the tip of my pen, the whispers in my head urge me to write, and their gazes terrify me. Whose destiny am I writing? Whose end am I witnessing? So, when the world turned pale, I picked up my pen and witnessed the paradox of the end. (Third recorder: Zhong Che) The person above is writing my story. After the nightmare when I was twenty, I became one with a vicissitudes of life. In the sky, the twisted city stared at me through the cracks; on the street, the "weirdos" holding red umbrellas danced strangely and gave me a unified smile. Mobile phone screens across the city reflected a bleeding eye, shouting our names. We must write the story of this world before it is "forgotten". We succeeded. Now, the task is given to him. Record, or [disappear]. ——The above content has been cross-verified by the second, third and fourth recorders and confirmed to [exist].