Chapter 32: Three Months Later

Three months later, in the vast expanse of the Starry World.

Deep within Yujin Base, inside a Gravity Training Room, Tian Dao sat alone at the center of the empty chamber, his upper body bare. Despite the crushing weight of fivefold gravity, his breathing remained steady and calm—unaffected, as if he were in normal conditions.

Three months had passed, and Tian Dao’s frame had visibly grown taller, his posture more upright and commanding. Gone was the habit of wearing those tiny sunglasses he’d sported before. Now, he wore a sleek black eye mask instead.

The reason for his fixation on this "blindfold style" wasn’t about fashion. It wasn’t about looking cool. The truth was, his unique ability—the Star-Eclipse Eye—allowed him to perceive the intricate flow of stellar energy everywhere. A powerful advantage in battle, yes. But in daily life? It was overwhelming.

In this world, star energy was everywhere—like air, like light, like color. To someone who could see it, reality looked like a constantly shifting, chaotic oil painting. The streams of energy, swirling and flashing in every direction, could easily drive anyone mad.

So to avoid being blinded by the visual noise, Tian Dao needed a filter. A noise-canceling device for his eyes.

And that was why the sunglasses had been his go-to. They dimmed the dazzling hues, filtering out the chaos just enough to let his mind and eyes rest.

Without them, who would wear sunglasses indoors?

“Tian Dao,” a voice called from outside the glass door. “Doctor sent me to fetch you. He wants to see you.”

Kalolin tapped lightly on the window, her voice clear and calm.

Hearing her, Tian Dao ended his meditation with a long, slow exhale.

“Got it.”

He rose, walked straight into the shower room, and emerged moments later fully dressed. Still wiping his damp hair with a towel, he turned to Kalolin by the door.

“Kalolin,” he asked, “did Doctor say what this is about?”

Kalolin shook her head. “No idea. He didn’t tell me.”

Tian Dao sighed, not surprised. He didn’t press further.

“Alright. Take me to him.”

“Mm.”

A short while later, the two walked out of the gravity chamber side by side.

And just as Tian Dao stepped away, the unassuming Yujin Organization guard stationed outside the room instinctively glanced at the timer mounted on the wall.

The number glowed: 18 hours.

“In fivefold gravity… you’ve lasted eighteen hours, Tian Dao Siming. You really are a monster.”

“Everyone else barely makes it past minutes. But you? You’re pushing limits no one else even comes close to.”

“Even without counting your Stellar Source development, your raw star energy levels must be nearing that of a veteran first-tier Stellar Envoy.”

“Monsters like you… we can’t afford to let you grow.”

The guard glanced down at his wristwatch, murmuring to himself.

“Wonder how the Council’s preparations are going. If we don’t move fast, those clever ones might catch on.”

“And once they do… it’ll be far harder to take them all down at once.”

---

In a conference room deep within Yujin Base.

“Doctor, you wanted to see me?”

“Mm.” Doctor nodded, gesturing for Tian Dao and Kalolin to take a seat. “Relax. Make yourselves comfortable.”

“Wait just a moment. Yun Meng and the others should be here soon. Once everyone’s gathered, I’ll lay out the next phase.”

Kalolin, ever the model of discipline, sat upright on the sofa without hesitation—exemplary behavior, textbook obedience.

Tian Dao? Not so much.

He slouched into a chair, one hand already rummaging through the fruit basket on the table, making a racket with every movement. Classic hyperactive energy.

After a few moments of careful selection, he finally pulled out a package of premium dried nuts. No hesitation. He tore the plastic open with a sharp snap, then stuffed a handful into his mouth.

The noise grated on Kalolin’s nerves.

After a few seconds of silent endurance, she finally snapped—her eyes narrowing, a sharp glare aimed at the munching Tian Dao.

Can’t you at least act professional during a meeting?

But Tian Dao, wearing his eye mask, completely misread the signal.

Instead of quieting down, he waved the bag in front of her face, shaking it playfully.

“Come on, Kalolin. You’re just sitting there. Why not join me?”

After a brief hesitation, Kalolin reached in, plucked out a single nut, and popped it into her mouth with quiet grace and perfect manners.

Watching the two—calm and chaotic, still and restless—Doctor chuckled, waving a hand.

“Don’t worry, Kalolin. You don’t have to be so stiff. Honestly, those fruit baskets? I bought them specifically for Tian Dao.”

“Because if he doesn’t eat something, he’d be out of his seat in five minutes flat.”

Tian Dao’s eyes lit up like he’d just been crowned king.

“See, Kalolin? I told you Doctor wouldn’t care!”

“You’re just too uptight,” he added, grinning. “You should be more like me—relaxed, carefree. That’s how you live a happy life.”

With that, he tossed a dried nut into the air, trying to catch it mid-flight with his mouth.

But before it could land, a slender, white hand shot out—nimble and precise—and snatched the nut midair.

“Little Tian Dao,” Yun Meng said, smirking, “eating during a meeting? You’re getting worse.”

She popped the nut into her mouth, eyes glinting with amusement.

The sweet, rich flavor burst on her tongue—perfect.

Without waiting for consent, she snatched the entire half-empty bag from Tian Dao’s hand.

“Seized. Confiscated. Now pay attention.”

Tian Dao’s face fell. “Hey! Yun Meng! What’s the deal? That’s Doctor’s permission!”

“Permission?” She laughed. “Now it’s mine. Go grab another from the basket. No big deal.”

“But there’s only one bag of premium nuts in there!” he protested. “Where am I supposed to get another?”

“Not my problem. Out of the way!”

She shoved his arm aside with one hand, then emptied the rest of the bag into her mouth—fast, efficient, and utterly merciless.

Watching the scene unfold, Chen Xing and Chen Kong, who had just entered the room, exchanged glances and quietly found seats.

And as Yun Meng stood tall, holding the empty bag high like a trophy, Doctor finally stepped in.

“Alright, enough. Both of you—sit down. We’re about to start the meeting.”

Yun Meng tossed the crumpled bag into Tian Dao’s lap with a playful shove.

“Here. Take it back. Just a bag of nuts. I really don’t care.”

Tian Dao stared at the empty plastic in his hands, seething.

Yeah, you don’t care. But where did my half-full bag of premium nuts go?

Did they fly away?

But before he could voice his outrage, Doctor spoke—his tone calm, serious.

“Everyone. After months of training, I believe you’ve all begun to understand your own Stellar Sources. You’ve gained proficiency in using Dual Stars. Your strength has grown significantly.”

“But constant training isn’t always the answer. Some things… you can only learn through experience.”

“So now… it’s time.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.

“It’s time for you to see the world outside the Base.”

“To witness the harsh reality of the Reality system. To see what the true Starry World is like.”

The four Stellar Prodigies—Tian Dao, Kalolin, Yun Meng, and the twins—straightened in their seats, eyes sharpening.

They’d been confined to the Base for nearly two and a half years. The outside world was a distant memory.

And among them, Tian Dao was the most eager.

He’d never stepped beyond the facility’s walls since arriving. Sure, he’d read about the world through the original story, but reading it and living it? That was entirely different.

He needed to know what the real Starry World looked like.

But beyond curiosity, Doctor’s words carried another weight—one that only Tian Dao truly understood.

Because this mission… this was the final chapter of Season One of The Prequel of the Stars: Embers.

According to the original plot, after this mission, the story would plunge into the brutal war that ultimately led to the fall of the Yujin Organization.

And in the original timeline, only three of them—Chen Xing and Chen Kong, plus Kalolin—had participated.

But this time? There was a new player.

Him.

Tian Dao Siming.

And yet… his presence wouldn’t change the story’s outcome.

Because this wasn’t a real mission. It was a carefully orchestrated simulation—a test run designed by Yujin Organization.

Regardless of success or failure, the outcome was already predetermined. They’d be cleaned up afterward, no consequences.

So the mission itself wasn’t the real concern.

What was important… was the timing.

Because this mission would coincide with Kalolin’s birthday.

In the original story, Kalolin—ever the composed, intelligent mechanism-class prodigy—knew her birthday was approaching. But she refused Chen Kong’s offer to throw a party. “No need,” she said. “We have more important things to focus on.”

But Tian Dao? He wasn’t letting that happen.

This was too precious to be brushed aside.

They had little time left together. This moment—this memory—was too meaningful to be forgotten.

So the question burned in his mind:

What kind of gift should I give Kalolin?

Because this wasn’t just a gift.

It was a farewell.

A final, beautiful moment in the first season.

A memory he’d carry forever.

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(End of Chapter)

Chapter end