There can't be a Harvest Moon in the RimWorld.

"Mr. Rhodes, I have another question I'd like to ask you." My sudden outburst surprised the middle-aged man.

"Please speak freely."

In the dimly lit room, only two shadows stood facing each other, as if the entire world was painted in black and white.

"Where did everyone else in town go? Why are all the houses empty?"

“Hmm…” Mr. Rhodes’ voice came out slowly, “Due to the power outage in the town, in order to protect the safety of the town’s residents, all the residents spontaneously gathered in the church until dawn before returning to their houses.”

After saying that, he muttered to himself, "When I left, people didn't seem to be so devout towards the church..."

I quickly lowered my head, using the water on my clothes as a cover. I was afraid that the middle-aged man opposite me would notice the panic in my eyes under the bright light of the thunder.

Mistaking me for not wanting to continue the conversation, Mr. Rod said as a final instruction: "Go and get some rest. I'll prepare breakfast tomorrow morning. It seems the drinking water source has been contaminated recently; it tastes like seawater, but thankfully it's safe to drink."

Then he closed my door and, in as light a tone as possible, offered an inappropriate blessing: "To use a popular phrase in town these days, I hope we can see the sun rise tomorrow."

Then the house and the hallway fell silent, without a sound.

Chapter 395 Pedestrians at Night

I washed my face in the bathroom of the inn, letting the water run down my cheeks.

The liquid coming out of the tap did indeed have a salty and fishy smell, possibly because the continuous heavy rain had polluted the drinking water source, bringing in too many impurities.

The stinging sensation from the running water in my eyes slowly appeared, but this pain also brought me a sense of relief. Today's events were so intense and so frequent that I felt a sense of unreality, as if I were floating on clouds. Only physical pain could pull me back to reality.

I glanced at the clothes on the bed, but didn't intend to put them on. Instead, I sat on the wooden chair that Popli had just sat on, looked up at the sky outside the window, and tried to see through the layers of dark clouds to see what kind of cause and effect was hidden behind them.

"I need to calm down and think this through..."

Touching the arm armor on his hand, he discovered that after days of fighting, even the incredibly sturdy arm armor was covered with scratches of varying depths.

Since returning this time, everything seems wrong. All the people and things I'm familiar with have been brutally and rudely swept away. Apart from Poppy, the only other person I see is this man who calls himself Mr. Rod.

Poppy's actions before leaving told me that she had also noticed something was clearly wrong with this suddenly returning "father." However, he deliberately interrupted our conversation. Based solely on hearsay, I couldn't possibly determine what was wrong with this man.

But from what he just said, I sensed a few things were amiss.

First, he seemed unfamiliar with everything in town, and his grief over his wife's death appeared superficial. This doesn't fit the typical character of someone who returns from a long journey only to find their family destroyed.

Secondly, I could clearly sense his fear of me. I also caught this inexplicable emotion. Old Yorkson and Old Man Hook had both said that my unexpected journey to the wasteland planet was likely caused by some unspeakable being, fearing the aura of the 'ultimate calamity,' and manipulating things from behind the scenes.

Could Mr. Rhodes's apprehension be equated with the apprehension the old men were talking about?

Third, what he said was clearly illogical. Putting everything else aside, the fact that the residents spontaneously gathered at the church to pray all night was utterly ridiculous—the townspeople's piety index was practically negative, so how could an old drunkard like Sebala not come to the tavern?

Besides, Carter, that lazy bum, would never be interested in having anyone stay in the church and disturb his peaceful dreams.

“This man is definitely suspicious… but the situation is unclear right now, and even for Poppy’s safety, I can’t alert him.”

"Hmm... I must... find more people and figure out the truth from multiple angles..."

I slowly pieced together a clue in my mind, used it to build the general outline of the plan, and then, like a spider, diligently added details and filled in the content on the outline.

This place is different from the wasteland. There, I took the initiative and had the upper hand everywhere. But here, I have to make my move after the fact. I have to find the point of breaking the deadlock before I can act and find out the truth.

"church……"

I kept repeating those words to myself, wondering if I should risk going to investigate. If everything Rhodes said was true, then I could find the other residents and prove my identity.

But the claim that "residents gathered devoutly at the church" sounded like a lie. Could it be a trap set by that man to lure me there?

in case……

If I followed his lead and went to the church, and then he prepared to kill me, then I, who was "already dead," would become "truly dead," and apart from Popuri, who was under his control, no one else would know that I had returned alive.

Such a risk...

Should I take the risk?

If it were me in the past, even if I were wary of supernatural events, I would have no fear of such conspiracies and schemes, let alone be timid or hesitant.

But the situation is different now.

From the moment I returned, I noticed that the gear symbol in my field of vision had taken on a cold, ethereal gray color, as if it had lost its original vitality.

No matter how much I stared at it, the colonist system in my field of vision no longer reacted as before, nor did it emit comical arpeggios or pop up all sorts of dialog boxes to help me get through the crisis.

The current crisis is probably second only to the period when I was in the dazzling city.

The only saving grace is that the physical abilities and combat experience granted to me by the Colonizer System seem to still be effective within me. I can still push boulders, split giant trees, and traverse complex terrain with the speed of the wind.

My biggest worry right now is that the combat system might shut down along with the colonist system. If that happens, I won't be able to anticipate the enemy's moves with divine intervention when faced with a crisis.

I don't know how much time passed, but my hesitation persisted. This wasn't just for myself, but also for the town. Passive acceptance wasn't my style, but to uncover "Rhodes'" true colors, I needed more certainty.

Suddenly, amidst the noisy rain, I heard a strange sound.

Although the rain was pouring down outside, it was a low, chaotic cacophony, devoid of rhythm or pattern, eventually merging into a jumbled chorus. Amidst this cacophony, a sharp, drawn-out, eerie sound suddenly broke through, drawing everyone's attention.

I held my breath and quietly pressed my face against the door of the inn. Sure enough, I heard a very faint sound again.

I instantly understood what that sound was.

Dart's tavern uses double wooden doors, and the hinges on both sides have started to wear out after many years of use, often making a creaking sound when opening and closing the doors.

However, the recent continuous heavy rains have caused the wooden doors to swell due to moisture, making the gaps between the hinges smaller and exacerbating the friction sound into this even more teeth-grinding, strange noise.

The person who opened the door probably didn't expect it to cause trouble, so they quickly stopped when the door was halfway open, and instead slowly pushed the wooden door open. After leaving the door, they slowly put the door back in place.

Unfortunately, I have already heard such a sound.

I leaned against the window, pulling a corner of the curtain to conceal myself, and peered down. After some effort, I finally spotted a basalt-like figure standing in the pouring rain, looking out the second-floor window.

He wasn't using an umbrella, hiding discreetly at the street corner, blending seamlessly into the surrounding darkness. Unfortunately, his muscular build affected the direction of the rain, and the fabric of his clothes had soaked up enough water, causing the downpour to merge into a single stream as it hit him, revealing his disguise.

After staring at the second-floor window for a long time, the figure finally stepped out of the corner and disappeared into the pouring rain.

I glanced longingly at the dry, warm bedding in the room and mourned my fate for three seconds.

He then resolutely followed the shadowy figure out of the tavern, crashing headfirst into the raging wind and rain outside.

Chapter 396 In the Mist

Such a chase in the rainy night is no easy task.

With each step, I struggled against roadside branches, stumbling stones, and drifting debris. The once pristine and beautiful stone path was soaked with rainwater and had become noticeably loose. The four corners of the bricks were slippery and unstable, and if I wasn't careful, I would sink into a puddle of cold water that was knee-deep.

I followed the shadowy figure at a distance, using his footprints to orient myself, and only began my pursuit when there was no one else in sight. I didn't want to be caught off guard and suddenly appear before me while I was blindly making my way.

While waiting quietly in the corner, I also carefully observed this once familiar town. At this moment, the normally warm and elegant buildings were shrouded in a shocking darkness, and a layer of faint moss seemed to be attached to the walls, climbing up the corners that had absorbed enough moisture.

I slowly followed the trail deeper into the darkness. The houses on both sides were shadowy, like a group of dead demons lurking in the shadows, still exuding an unclean smell even after they had stopped breathing in the darkness.

The rain shattered against the window frames and walls, turning into countless misty particles that drifted through the pitch-black world. Even the knee-deep floodwaters couldn't stop their revelry; in fact, they fueled the flow of the mist. Only those who ventured into it would discover that a thick fog had formed, enveloping the entire town and creating an eerie tranquility amidst the clamor of the downpour.

In such an environment, no matter how far I walked, it felt like I was standing still. For a moment, I even thought I had lost track of the other person and was so frustrated that I didn't know where to go.

Suddenly, in the thick fog and the dark rainy night, a strange red light appeared faintly in the distance. The light barely penetrated the fog but could not illuminate the darkness. It was like a pair of red lanterns, flashing, spying, and lurking in the darkness.

In an instant, I felt as if the darkness around me had come alive!

Restless owls circled on the trees swaying in the wind on both sides, pale ghosts haunted the empty windows of the houses, drowned monsters were reflected in the puddles flowing by the roadside, and the wailing of vengeful spirits echoed in the leaden clouds covering the sky...

There seemed to be an unseen evil force within the red light, transforming everything I observed into an indescribable blasphemous existence...

But the familiar decorations and paving patterns along the roadside allowed me to discern my approximate location—the place where the shadow disappeared was the town's church!

In that instant, I felt as if the boundary between life and death, yin and yang, was just a step away. That tall building hidden in the mist brought me an indescribable terror for the first time.

I took a deep breath, dispelling the unease deep within me, clenched my fists, glanced once more at the church in the darkness, and slowly approached this strange yet familiar building…

…………

When I arrived, the figure had already passed through the outer wall of the church and walked deeper into the secluded path, seemingly with no intention of staying there.

Before the other person had gone far, I couldn't follow closely, so I leaned out, placed my feet on a stone outside the church, and looked towards the church hall.

Blood-red candles burned around the church, and the greenish flames, instead of neutralizing the eeriness of the red candles, gave rise to silent, screaming ghostly faces.

The once pristine and beautiful stained-glass windows of the church were now completely destroyed in the storm, with broken pieces scattered everywhere. The once solemn and sacred religious paintings had transformed into headless angels, surrounding the severed arm and waist of the Holy Son, preaching to a group of prostrate, fragmented believers. All the religious figures were enveloped in the eerie glow of red candles; if one listened closely, one could almost hear ancient incantations and unidentified names being chanted from their lips…

The church was silent. Everyone was kneeling in their seats, praying and muttering something, their expressions hidden in the darkness, their heads bowed so low they couldn't be seen...

The long silence of the group lasted as long as my stunned silence, until a man dressed in a priest's robe stepped onto the pulpit and solemnly began to peruse a thick book.

"The Holy Spirit grants immortality and will grant you ascension in the near future."

The pastor whispered a prayer, then opened the thick book, turned to the chapter that was clearly folded, and continued speaking.

"The disasters of the past few days have brought us much misfortune, as you are all aware of. Torrential rains, famine, landslides, darkness—it's all like the clarion call before the end of the world."

"But the ship that arrived this morning has brought signs of surviving the disaster. On this night when salvation is imminent, let us pray for the protection of the Holy Spirit for the deceased..."

The pastor murmured something, then walked to a pipe organ and began to play a mournful melody. The first few melodies were just low, brief whistles, like a wounded deer calling for help from its companions, lying on the pale moonlit wasteland, crying out helplessly.

The residents in the area seemed to be infected by the music, and their movements, which had been held for a long time, changed slightly. They gestured with their hands in front of them, and then put their hands together in a uniform gesture.

Gradually, an unusual sound began to emerge from the organ, like the roar of a wild beast mixed into a chorus, or the reverberation of a whale amidst the roar of the tide, subtly and continuously altering the tone of the music.

The strange sounds were mixed with the priest's compassionate prayers, which sounded like weeping and lamenting.

May the departed rest in peace, and may the living suffer less pain.

Looking up at the sky, reaching the highest point

Stars are hanging in the night sky

The calamity will pass, forever.

This short song is like a requiem, calling for the return of those who died unjustly with piercing pain. The pastor played it again and again, chanting it repeatedly, singing out indescribable, hidden emotions.

At this moment, the dome of the house seemed to start leaking, and strange water stains appeared on the floor, spreading from the corners of the walls to various parts of the hall, forming shallow puddles on the originally dry ground.

At that moment, I felt the strange atmosphere in the church growing stronger. It seemed as if something ominous was spreading through the singing, carried by the night wind and scattered everywhere. But the singing gradually became more ethereal, and the tone became strange. The words that had been clear just moments before seemed to have taken on a different meaning.

The lyrics were unusually vague, as the sound of the instrument grew louder and louder, as if many unknown beings in the darkness had joined this grand chorus, singing praises to the people of the world with their hoarse, broken, rotten, and fragmented vocal cords, while also mourning their own cruel fate.

Therefore, in that instant, the lyrics I heard underwent a completely new interpretation in their repeated loop...

They will come back, and people will find

They will face new fears upon their return.