TBR CH114

I don’t know what a god should be like,
but your god only seems to want sweets.
—Asta’s casual complaint, jotted down among a stack of horrifying folklore entries collected from the Black Star Organization

The believers who had remained in the α chamber heard footsteps. Outside the door, the silhouette of the deity appeared—black hair, black eyes. They looked hesitantly toward the door, only to immediately lower their eyes when they noticed there was someone walking beside Asta.

“Schaffrei? Wasn’t he killed by the monsters long ago?”

But Asta’s decisions were beyond questioning—this was the impression left after it had taken control of the comm system. Perhaps the green-eyed human by its side was just an empty shell, resurrected by the monster’s grace. They didn’t know if it really had that kind of power, but the thought made their hearts pound faster.

From the discovery of ancient records mentioning the “Black Star,” to each step toward the prophesied apocalypse, to deciphering the whispers of the deep sea from before humanity’s time—Asta had matched their every expectation. They were nearly moved to tears, believing they had received the only salvation before the end. Salvation that no one else could attain.

So what if destruction came? This world wasn’t worth caring about. Death hardly seemed something to fear.

“Has anyone passed through here?”

Asta’s footsteps paused beside one of the bowing believers. The man instinctively held his breath and nervously raised his eyes. The researcher stood obediently beside Asta, those emerald-green eyes gleaming brightly.

“No… no one,” he answered, trying to steady his trembling voice. “But there were monsters. We already released some of the ones who escaped, as promised. But, O Great Deity, I believe something must have gone wrong with the plan—the number of monsters is too small, especially those who cooperated with us—”

“I see,” the god seemed to smile, and from all around came a faint rustling sound.

“In any case, please leave now. Our people are waiting to receive you on the surface.”

That was the most important objective. Once Asta departed, they too would switch into diving gear and evacuate. Soon, the sea would begin flooding the facility’s underground levels, filling it completely. By then, the remaining monsters would still be able to escape through this breach—until the institute, wasting time and resources, finally managed to plug it.

Asta said nothing.

The believer dared to lift his head—only to see their deity casually spinning a bracelet on its wrist. The two black stars on it clinked together with a faint, strangely rhythmic sound.

The grotesque limbs they worshipped surged from every direction, as if summoned like obedient pets. In an instant, they surrounded everyone. As the tentacles slid across the floor, they made a soft rustling noise like sand on a beach. The believers’ pupils contracted as they finally realized what the ominous sound meant.

The tips of those limbs were exactly as described in myth—sharp, shining like spearheads.

They recalled the old illustrations in historical texts: long spears piercing human hearts, dripping with blood, bringing silent death and slaughter.

The tentacles pressed against their chests—death was only a breath away. The shadow of betrayal swept over them in an instant. There was no time to glance at one another in confusion, no time to wait for some prophesied day of destruction. They were about to die first, as sacrifices to the dark god.

Only a very small number maintained their fanaticism, whispering in awe as they looked up at the deity. They had long since lost faith in the world, chasing the fleeting illusion of destruction.

But most couldn’t remain calm when faced with sudden death.

Though they knew it was hopeless, they instinctively stood up, screaming. Their pupils filled with disbelief and desperate desire to live. They couldn’t run. Even the swiftest among them, who dashed toward the door, were quickly seized by tentacles. The moment the poisoned tips pressed against their chests, they shut their eyes in despair.

“Why?” they whispered. “We chose you. It shouldn’t be like this…”

“Don’t you want to die?” the human standing beside the monster asked with a smile. “To become a sacrifice for God, to offer everything—you should feel honored. Like the ones still kneeling beside you. Isn’t that a beautiful thing?”

“Or… did you only come here to gain some tangible reward?”

To smile in such a setting was truly unnerving. Isidor spoke calmly and clearly, as though he meant every word. He genuinely seemed pleased to be cast as the deity’s beloved in this twisted play. Knowing he could play that role clearly made him happy.

The tentacles shifted from pressing on their hearts to grabbing their legs, beginning to drag them toward the sea. None of them had diving equipment on—if pulled underwater now, they would drown in agony.

“Those who try to control a god will be killed by the god.”

Isidor said, “And those who think too highly of themselves shall suffer water punishment. You all said you’d give up everything for it. You claimed living in this world was meaningless. So why be afraid?”

“I…” A believer reached frantically for the tentacle wrapped around his leg—but death was already smiling at him.

To die for a god—this had always been a thought they claimed not to mind. But now that it had become their true, inevitable fate, they were completely lost. Most of them believed the world lacked meaning—but not all had severed ties with others. Before the god’s arrival, some had genuinely believed and had persuaded loved ones to join them.

But why—why were they the ones to be destroyed first?

“In the end, you still want to live, don’t you?” Isidor said softly. He crouched and looked into the bitter, salty water that was now engulfing the believers’ legs. “If you regret it, say it. This might be your last chance.”

Someone cried.

The sound wasn’t out of place amidst the chaos of sobbing and shouting. As the sea engulfed their legs and pulled them under, with no way to fight back, every voice repeated something different.

Maybe a desperate plea to Asta.
Maybe the name still tangled on their tongues.
Maybe pure fear of the pain of dying.
Maybe regret for their past actions.
Maybe longing for places never visited or meals never eaten.
Even bitter curses of refusal.

Saying goodbye to the world was supposed to be a dignified act.

Dying in the process of saving a god would have been easier to accept. But the believers who had stayed had already tasted the sweetness of success. This death—this was the destruction they had brought upon themselves.

Everyone tried their best to breathe the last air of the surface. Even though holding out longer underwater was futile, they had never so clearly realized they didn’t want to die.

But the tentacles were unstoppable. They pulled the people down relentlessly. And Isidor’s words struck deep: worshipping a false god would only lead to this fate.

Countless voices rose together—flickering faintly in and out of Asta’s perception.

The monster leaned close and gave Isidor’s hand a playful squeeze. The ever-talented Fanatic No. 1 immediately fell silent and blushed.

At that exact moment, all the tentacles obeyed its will and stopped—just before they could submerge the believers’ heads. The expected loss of control didn’t arrive. Those who had already given up, who thought they’d die and sink into the sea, opened their eyes to find the progress bar of death frozen at 99%.

It was as if fate had given them one more chance.

“If you’re all still trying to survive,”

said their god, “then this world probably isn’t so awful that it must be destroyed.”

It sounded gentle.

“I’m not here to make decisions for anyone’s life. I just wanted to run an experiment—and this is the result. You won’t be destroyed. The research facility won’t either. And the world? Even less so. We’ve come this far, and I see no need to pretend anymore.”

Asta turned to share a knowing glance with Isidor.

When the first hand was extended to help up a believer who had collapsed on the ground, he stared in disbelief at what was happening—more shocked than if the dark god had slaughtered them all.

The hand was long-fingered, pale as if bloodless, but patiently waiting.

Grotesque tentacles lifted several people up. Isidor helped pull up a believer who had collapsed in fear.

“Though I don’t agree with your beliefs,”

Asta looked with satisfaction at the people who were still shaken and now hesitantly staring at it.
“But soon this won’t concern me. The special forces of the institute are about to arrive. I’ll use my tentacles to block the seawater, so you’d better stay outside the door.”

Alive—they were still alive!

The plan had taken such a sharp turn, it was overstimulating. Just recovering from the horror of escaping death, yet another bombshell was dropped on them. The leading believer had completely shut down, staring blankly, as if he were meeting Asta and Isidor for the first time.

The human added, “The good news is, you didn’t actually manage to accomplish anything, so you still have the chance to choose again. But now it’s the institute’s and the external government’s responsibility—and you’ll at least need to pay for the repairs.”

“God…” The believer whom Asta had personally pulled up seemed to still recall the warmth—so human—of the monster’s touch. He stammered,

“But you are the god from the prophecy, the one who brings final destruction. Only by devoting ourselves to you can we be saved. Are you abandoning us?”

Asta smiled. “I’ve never heard of any such prophecy. But even if it is my supposed destiny, that doesn’t matter. Let me tell this world some good news—”

“We’re eloping,” Isidor cut in.

“Eloping?” The believer’s expression was like someone seeing a giraffe gallop down a city street.

“Yes,” Asta said cheerfully. “We’re eloping. So we won’t be playing either the role of disaster or savior. He and I are going somewhere no one can find us. We’re opening a shop. Doesn’t matter what we sell, as long as it’s sweet.”

“…What?”

The believer looked deeply confused—and clearly, he wasn’t the only one.

Many pairs of eyes stared at the monster and the human standing at the center. Isidor took Asta’s arm and smiled again.

“We’re under no obligation to explain more. Though we truly hope you stop trying to find things to worship, we also won’t take responsibility for anyone’s future. So… goodbye.”

Eloping.
Every believer present began struggling to mentally process the word, trying to connect such a romantic idea to the monster in front of them.
The effort was pointless, but they didn’t know what else to do.

What had just happened was enough to completely shatter their worldview—something they’d still dream about at midnight years from now.

Most importantly, some of them—ashamedly and truly—began to realize their lingering attachment to the world.

They’d always preached destruction but had only wanted favors from the god.

They had still wanted to live, at that final moment near death.

Perhaps they would get to choose again.
But there were still those truly beyond saving, who would need judgment.
Regardless, that was no longer Asta and the researcher’s responsibility. Right and wrong were no longer for them to weigh.

Asta offered a polite smile and bid the fanatics farewell:

“Goodbye.”

When the tentacles began to move again, everyone instinctively grew uneasy. But the limbs only gently nudged them, herding them toward the door. A few of the lead believers suddenly went berserk, trying to charge back inside. Maybe they were truly mad—or perhaps they were the real instigators, unwilling to face the others’ questions later.

But their resistance changed nothing.

Asta bundled them up with its tentacles and tossed them out. The others caught them instinctively, restraining their violent behavior.

It was indeed not what they had expected.
One by one, the institute’s lights flickered back on.
Machines resumed operation.
Green indicator lights blinked.
Everything gave off a sense of order and stability.
There were no sounds of monsters rampaging, no human screams.

Asta shut the main door.

Behind layers of tentacles, the α chamber became impregnable again. No matter how the seawater surged, it wouldn’t leak into the rest of the underground structure. It should hold until the researchers fully resolved the problem.

Asta carefully considered whether there were any loose ends.

There weren’t.

So, it was time to leave.

“I do feel a little reluctant,” the monster said wistfully, glancing around again. “I remember the first time you climbed the steps to the control room—ah, but you blew that up.”

The atmosphere turned slightly nostalgic. The human and the monster looked at each other and couldn’t help laughing.

“It’s that little hut that gets me,” Isidor said. “I packed up most of the things for you to take, but the one inside the institute—the little room—is one of a kind. It can only exist forever in our memories. Along with those coral reefs and seabirds… Wait, shouldn’t we figure out a way to get the seabirds out safely too?”

A major oversight, almost.

The poor seabirds circled helplessly beneath the metallic sky, watching the sea level rise. They had no idea where they could land. At the very least, they too deserved freedom.

The final plan: Asta used its tentacles to create an air pocket and floated the seagulls—raised in the institute’s virtual sea—into the real world.

With the birds handled, next came the “kingfisher.”
At Asta’s signal, Isidor stepped onto the sea’s surface.
From the seabed, countless tentacles gathered silently, forming a black bridge with a metallic, solid surface that stretched toward the foaming white exit above.

“We’re really leaving now,” Asta said, amidst the snow-like spray of the surf.

Isidor looked down one last time.

Everything here was a false creation.
But within that falsehood, he had found his own truth.

Just as Asta was naturally suited to the ocean, Isidor could now handle the pressure of the deep sea. He could hold his breath far beyond human limits—long enough to take two strolls across the seabed with Asta. Behind them, apart from the tentacles Asta had split off to seal the door, the rest surged forward like tides, pouring into a new ocean.

It really did look like it, Isidor thought—
Like countless black stars flickering beneath the waves.

The moment he realized he was finally leaving the institute that had bound him for so long, it was as if something in his heart gave a soft click, like a clasp gently coming undone.
Isidor held Asta’s hand tightly, straining to see clearly through the blurred seawater.

As they ascended from the mid-layer, sunlight refracted above them in shimmering ripples.

Of course, there was the so-called “reception party” waiting at the surface—massive and unaware. Behind them, a strike team from the now-stable institute had already gone into stealth mode.

Asta shook its head.

It had no intention of letting them see it.

Only one believer let out a soft “huh?” and moved closer to the water.
But when asked what he saw, he only hesitated and said,
“Probably just a school of fish passing by…”

The ocean was vast beyond comprehension—
Asta knew that better than anyone.

The world was boundless and ever-spinning.
It was more than enough for a monster to hide—especially one who understood humans so well.

Isidor also mentioned that they could look up ship routes online to find safe regions of sea. That sounded pretty impressive to Asta—and quite suitable for their needs.

Though of course, that might require a bit of hacking.

But that green-eyed human?
He could always pull it off.