Chapter 78: The End of the Deep Blue Arc (Part 1)

Reality World, Station 13.

Though the scene on the rooftop—Kalolin presenting a gift to Tian Dao Siming—was sweet, their quiet, tender exchange brimming with subtle affection, the Dimensional Audience watching from beyond the screen felt nothing but sorrow.

Not a single laugh came from them. If anything, tears welled in their eyes.

Because by now, even the most oblivious could see it: this moment—the gift, the half-joking, half-serious final photo Tian Dao had taken—was the last sliver of warmth left in the entire first season of The Prequel of the Stars: Embers.

From tomorrow, Tian Dao and the others would leave Deep Blue Metropolis and return to Yujin Base.

And based on Tian Dao’s earlier flashbacks, the next chapter of Stellar Prodigy would be nothing like this.

No more gentle moments. No more laughter.

Only blood, fire, and the brutal, heart-wrenching farewells that come with survival.

“What the hell, Group Star? Can’t you be more obvious?! A widow’s photo, a necklace to chase a husband—what’s next, a funeral wreath?!”

“Brothers, sharpen your bayonets. This production team’s been asking for a beating. Let’s teach them a lesson!”

“The sugar’s gone. Now it’s all artillery.”

“Blade in hand, follow me! Let’s go smash the production team!”

Overwhelmed by grief and dread for what lay ahead, the Dimensional Audience turned their rage toward the real-life creators behind Stellar Prodigy.

After all, the characters were fictional.

But the people behind the screen… were real.

As the audience’s angry, sarcastic taunts poured out like honeyed venom—mocking, furious, desperate—

the anime abruptly shifted into a silent, wordless drama.

Only music and still images remained.

---

First Scene: The Final School Day

The final class ended.

Tian Dao and his friends stood at the classroom door, surrounded by classmates whose eyes shimmered with unspoken farewell.

They stepped out into the golden light of sunset.

The school gate glowed orange, bathed in the dying sun.

Tian Dao adjusted his shades, smiled, and waved back at the crowd.

Outside, silhouettes stretched long across the pavement—Tian Dao walking beside Kalolin and the others, their shadows stretching forward.

And that shadow… kept going.

It stretched all the way into the school grounds, finally ending at Isabelle’s feet.

Frozen in that moment: her lips parted, as if about to speak.

Tian Dao and the others walking through the gate.

The curtain closed.

The chapter of Tian Dao’s time at Trelan Junior High School had ended.

---

Second Scene: The Tianhai Group Boardroom

After months of absence, Yun Meng finally reappeared.

She wore a rabbit mask, standing beside the Coral Knight at Dorian’s back, silent and imposing.

The two Second-Rank Stellar Envoy-level figures radiated an aura so oppressive, the other board members—most of them—had no choice but to surrender.

Their votes poured in, unanimous.

Only a few holdouts remained—led by Bodean.

But when Bodean finally cast his vote in favor, the boardroom became Dorian’s alone.

The decision was made.

In the end, Dorian stayed behind.

He spoke with Bodean in private.

Whatever was said, it was enough.

Bodean left.

Alone at the floor-to-ceiling window, Dorian stared down at Deep Blue Metropolis.

The city pulsed with neon—vibrant, chaotic, alive.

Then, slowly, he reached for a cigar on the desk.

Lit it. Placed it between his lips.

Smoke curled around him.

His face blurred in the haze, but his eyes—clear, unwavering—grew sharper.

He stood like a captain in his cabin, facing a storm on the horizon.

As the cigar burned down, he crushed it with deliberate precision.

Then, without looking back, he walked out.

And just like that, the journey began.

The ship named Tianhai—no longer just a company—would now sail into the storm.

To face the tempest.

To find the dawn beyond it.

---

Third Scene: Night in the Villa — Solitary Moments

The music changed.

No longer gentle.

Now melancholic.

A warning.

A prelude.

---

Chen Kong’s Room

Chen Kong packed slowly.

His school badge, uniform, swimsuit, volleyball—

gifts from classmates: homemade cookies, signed CDs, a girl’s hair tie.

He wasn’t rushing.

Each item lingered in his hands.

He didn’t want to pack them.

When he first arrived at Trelan Junior High, life hadn’t been kind.

But after Tian Dao came—everything changed.

Now, even after just one month, this place felt like home.

The bright lights of the classroom.

The laughter in the hallways.

The simple joy of being normal.

He wanted to stay.

No more exams.

No more Stellar Source.

Just… this.

In a world without Star Energy, maybe life would’ve been better.

Maybe he’d have been happier.

But the thought—dangerous, reckless—flashed through his mind.

He shook his head violently.

No. Not now.

He shoved it away.

Yet, some thoughts don’t vanish.

They take root.

Like seeds.

And no matter how hard you try to pull them up, they grow deeper.

Because they’re not just dreams.

They’re the only answer you’ve ever had.

The only truth buried in your heart.

---

Chen Xing’s Room

Across the hall, Chen Xing sat cross-legged on the floor.

Her eyes were closed.

Her body tense.

But her focus was gone.

She couldn’t concentrate.

Frowning, she finally opened her eyes.

She stood, walked to the desk.

There, on the surface, sat a half-open gift box.

Inside: a pair of sunglasses—her favorite.

She stared at them.

Then, without warning, she picked them up.

She walked to the trash can.

Held the glasses high.

Almost ready to throw them away.

But at the last moment—her hand froze.

She turned.

Looked into the mirror of the sunglasses.

Saw her own reflection.

Her eyes—shaking. Uncertain.

A long, silent sigh escaped her lips.

She placed the glasses back in the box.

And shoved the whole thing—rough, careless—into her suitcase.

It looked like she was discarding something worthless.

But the box?

It was placed right in the center of her clothes.

Protected.

Hidden.

Not lost.

Because even if she tried to forget…

she wouldn’t let it be crushed.

She sat back down.

Stared out the window.

At the deep-sea night view of Deep Blue Metropolis—its lights flickering like distant stars.

Time passed.

Her gaze changed.

The confusion faded.

In its place—iron.

Unbreakable.

If she’d given up every time she faced hardship, she would’ve died years ago in the Great Collapse.

But she didn’t.

So she wouldn’t now.

No matter how dark the path.

No matter how many thorns lay ahead.

She would walk forward.

Even if she couldn’t see a single ray of hope.

Because victory isn’t a dandelion on a hillside—easy to pick.

It’s earned.

And worse than not seeing hope?

Not even having the courage to begin.

Give up?

No.

The word didn’t exist in Chen Xing’s dictionary.

Not even in the language of her soul.

Yet… today, for the first time in years, she stopped her nightly training.

Sat in silence.

Stared into the dark.

And for a moment…

she simply… was.

---

Kalolin’s Room

The night was quiet.

Kalolin lay on her bed, scrolling through her phone.

Photos.

The first day at the port.

The startled dolphin at Sunken Ship Grand Restaurant.

The fireworks at Jellyfish Amusement Park—her scream captured in the frame.

Each image.

A memory.

And with each one, her logic, her cold, calculating mind, cracked.

Not because she was broken.

But because she had learned what it meant to feel.

To be.

She had once known only two things:

Study.

Dream.

Data simulation.

That was life.

And she never thought it was wrong.

Because she had no one to compare it to.

No one her age.

She assumed everyone lived the same way.

Until he came.

Two years younger.

No prior knowledge of Star Energy.

Yet—

he defied every rule.

Learned in a week what took her years.

Caught up in less than half a month.

And instead of rivalry—

she wanted to understand him.

To learn from him.

To become like him.

So she did.

She stopped studying at night.

She walked on the beach.

She swam with the dolphins.

She asked Yun Meng to buy her a dolphin plushie.

Her performance in the Stellar Plan dropped.

But she felt something new.

Joy.

Freedom.

Like a box opened.

A Pandora’s box.

And once opened—there was no closing.

Her database, once filled only with Star Energy data, now held memories.

Laughter.

Sunsets.

The warmth of being seen.

And every night, when she tried to run simulations—

those memories interrupted her.

They wouldn’t leave.

Then Doctor noticed.

He, too, a machine.

He made a logical decision.

Remove the emotional data. Clear the system.

But then—he came again.

He told her:

“Human emotions aren’t useless.”

And somehow…

he convinced Doctor.

The impossible.

From that day, she had a new mission.

Not just to learn Star Energy.

But to learn how to be human.

All of it—this joy, this pain, this warmth—

he taught her.

Doctor said:

“Tian Dao Siming will change the world. You must serve him. Be his tool.”

She agreed.

Without question.

Without hesitation.

But Doctor didn’t know.

Her loyalty wasn’t because she believed in changing the world.

It was because Tian Dao was her world.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end