Chapter 103: Season 2 Premieres – New Map: Steam Capital

Reality World, Station 13.

8:00 PM. The premiere night of The Stars · Faint Light.

“First!”

“Now’s the time—this entire comment sea is mine!”

“Oh wow, the opening’s already a bomb!”

“Wait—wait! Where’s my husband, Tian Dao?!”

“Hey, hold your horses—first, give me your IP address! I seriously suspect you’re from—”

Amid the chaotic, frenzied barrage of comments from Dimensional Audience fans,

the long-awaited second season of Stellar Prodigy—Faint Light—finally unveiled its mysterious veil.

Though in the recent Innate Strongest side story, the Dimensional Audience had already learned that Tian Dao was almost certainly returning in Season 2.

But when exactly he’d return… and in what form… the production team had remained silent, leaving fans restless and itching for answers.

Meanwhile, Yujin Base had been fully submerged beneath the ocean after Season 1.

The 36 Stellar Prodigies had scattered like stars across the New Federation, each lost to the winds of fate.

This meant Season 2 of Faint Light wouldn’t just unlock a brand-new map—

it would also introduce entirely new characters, strangers to the story.

But above all else, what the fans truly longed for was the long-awaited reunion of Tian Dao and Kalolin in this new era.

After all, that final scene in Season 1—the fireworks—had left many in tears.

Though the ending was ultimately a happy one, their separation still left a bitter aftertaste for countless fans.

Some even whispered the production team must be harboring a ghost.

Why else would they deliberately tear apart such a beloved childhood duo?

Why not just keep them together and serve up the sweet, sugary love?

In short, the Stellar Prodigy team were just a bunch of anime creators.

They had no idea what real Stellar Prodigy was all about.

Amid the sea of ecstatic faces, the opening theme of Season 2 faded.

The main story began.

The first shot was a cyberpunk-infused bar, its neon sign flickering in and out of visibility through a thick haze of steam.

A bar named Rust Nail.

【Stellar World, Stellar Source Year 101】

【Six years after the fall of Yujin Organization, Steam Capital】

【Lower District, Rust Iron Hell, Sector 12】

Drip… drip…

The Lower District of Rust Iron Hell was perpetually shrouded in a thick, choking cloud—

a mix of steam from the upper districts and toxic industrial fumes.

Sunlight never reached here.

Instead, acid rain fell endlessly, a relentless, corrosive drizzle that burned the streets and ate into metal.

A silence of despair hung heavy in the air—silent, suffocating, unrelenting.

The sign of Rust Nail flickered in the mist, dimming and brightening like a dying heartbeat.

Then—

a woman stepped into frame.

She held a black umbrella, her silver-white uniform crisp against the grimy backdrop.

She stopped at the entrance, lifting her gaze to the sign.

As if double-checking she hadn’t made a wrong turn.

Her brown hair was short and sharp—three-quarters of her face hidden beneath the umbrella’s shadow.

The camera panned down.

And the audience noticed it instantly.

On her left wrist—

a familiar, soft pink children’s toy watch.

The sight sent a jolt through every fan who’d watched Season 1.

Click.

She shook the rain from her umbrella—acid rain, thick and greasy—then pushed open the heavy, rusted door.

It groaned like a dying beast, creaking open into the depths of the underworld.

Inside, the noise was overwhelming.

Heavy metal music screamed from the speakers.

Voices howled, screamed, laughed—raw, unhinged, drunk with madness.

The sound drowned out the steady drip-drip of acid rain outside.

And then—

the smell hit her.

A stench of oil, cheap alcohol, sweat, and blood—

a toxic cocktail that surged forward like a physical force.

Vivian wrinkled her nose instinctively, clamping her hand over her mouth and nose.

After a few seconds, she forced herself to adjust.

Then, she took in the bar’s interior.

The ceiling was a tangle of thick, corroded steam pipes.

Leaky joints dripped dark red liquid—

whether rust, blood, or something worse, no one could tell.

The walls were welded together from scrap metal—broken machines, old engines, and rusted parts.

Exposed gears, frayed wires, jagged metal edges—

anyone careless enough to walk too close could be cut open in an instant.

In a dim corner, a group of cybernetically enhanced gang members huddled around a table made of scrap armor plating.

They were playing Death Roulette.

One by one, they’d spin the revolver, pull the trigger, and wait—

for the gunshot that might end their lives.

The thrill wasn’t in winning.

It was in watching someone else die.

“Disgusting,” Vivian muttered.

Twisted. Chaotic. Corrupt. Lawless.

She’d only glanced around—

but already, she felt deep revulsion.

If not for her mission, she’d never set foot in a place like this.

Rust Iron Hell earned its name.

It was truly hell.

In the corner, one gang member—lucky enough to survive his round—collapsed into hysterical laughter.

His face twisted with relief, sweat pouring down his forehead.

He slammed his revolver onto the table and shoved it toward another member—Beltran.

“Hahaha! Your turn, Beltran!”

Beltran’s bare forehead—lined with exposed metal rivets—glistened with sweat.

He stared at the gun.

His drunken haze shattered.

His mind snapped back into focus.

He swallowed hard.

His hands trembled.

He wanted to run.

But the others weren’t letting go.

Two others had already survived.

Now he was next.

Too late to back out.

“Um… I—”

“Shut up. Pour the drink.”

Before he could finish, one of the gang members slammed a yellow brass mug onto the table—

filled to the brim with Black Beer.

The liquid was pitch black.

Its foam looked like ash from a chimney.

Coal Ash Black Beer.

Beltran’s hands shook uncontrollably.

He knew this brew.

Made from industrial coal ash.

Even the smell alone could make a normal man retch.

Only the filth of the Lower District drank this.

Only the scum.

“Still waiting? Pick your bullet, Beltran. How many gates to Hell will you have to walk through?”

Clink—clink—clink—

Six bullets dropped onto the metal table, ringing out like death knells.

Beltran’s eyes widened.

His pupils shrunk to pinpricks.

The bullets weren’t just metal.

They were death itself.

In his mind, he saw it—the door to hell, slowly creaking open before him.

The gang members laughed.

“Come on, Beltran. You scared?”

“No problem if you are. We’ll just shove the gun and that awful beer right down your throat.”

“Though… we can’t promise nothing might go wrong during the process.”

They grinned.

“Right?”

“Hahaha! Yeah, right!”

Beltran heard the mockery.

He knew—he had no choice.

This was Rust Iron Hell.

A place where people died every day.

Where madness was the norm.

Where anyone could become a monster at any moment.

And now, he was strapped to the war machine.

No escape.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end