TBR CH115 [End]

“Our stories always end with love and freedom—
Because we love all of this so deeply.”
—From the final work of world-renowned fairy tale writer Peter Brook, who also gave this blessing to his readers.

Garden City was a small town in Northern Europe, under the jurisdiction of the Union, but because of its remote location, it enjoyed relative freedom. Only seasoned backpackers knew that this city hid a bay more beautiful than many famous tourist destinations.

It wasn’t the traditional image of blue skies and crystal seas. Instead, it was an ocean framed by jagged black reefs. Nature seemed to have poured out its deepest soul—the seawater dark like sapphire, the white spray of waves whipped by a sharp wind that lifted the skirts of girls walking by the coast.

Although the town wasn’t large and life moved at a slow pace, all essential facilities were fully present.

According to surveys, local residents had deep affection for it, and annual satisfaction ratings remained high.

“Except there’s not enough sun,” an old woman feeding pigeons in the park complained half-jokingly. “Clothes take forever to dry, and the flowers have to be raised on the balcony. But everyone does it, so the streets still look quite pretty.”

Today, the city welcomed two new residents.
They had purchased an old, long-vacant villa on St. Lacey Street, sparking enthusiastic discussions among the neighbors. They eagerly speculated about the newcomers’ personalities, wondering whether smoked fish or cured ham would be a better way to say welcome.

Asta and Isidor rented a van to move their belongings.

They didn’t want to attract too much attention. After all, if they walked into the villa empty-handed, how would they explain to the neighbors how it suddenly filled up with furniture from that little house?

A young man with black hair and black eyes got out of the van and politely extended his hand to help the person behind him step down.

He was really quite handsome.
One of the waiting neighbors, ready to lend a hand, couldn’t help but smile and offer a compliment.

Isidor got out next.

Naturally, he reached for Asta’s hand.
The former institute worker, with green eyes, froze slightly when he saw the friendly neighbors.
Still, his appearance was also the kind elders liked—gentle and harmless.

They both thanked the neighbors politely.

“That’s right,” Isidor took on the job of answering questions smoothly. “We used to work in a big city, but recently quit and moved here… Yes, we really like Garden City’s environment, and the house price was just right. We’re planning to open a shop here—yes, you’re right, we’ll still need to do some more research.”

“Are you business partners living together?”
The neighbor helped carry a table from the van and asked casually,
“It’s great to have two young people move onto St. Lacey Street. My niece is about your age, actually. Her name is Anna—you should meet her sometime.”

Isidor was about to respond, “Yes, we’re very good friends.”

But Asta cut him off.

“Actually,” the monster said seriously and sincerely, “he is my lover. We are planning a wedding soon.”

The sentence came out of nowhere.
The human’s mouth opened slightly, as if searching for words to soften the mood in front of neighbors they’d only just met—but Asta’s declaration hit like a bomb, scattering his thoughts completely. Even the tips of his ears turned red. He gripped Asta’s hand tightly, avoiding the neighbor’s gaze.

“Oh, I see,” the neighbor didn’t seem the least bit troubled—on the contrary, they looked even more excited. “That’s even better! I know an old priest at the Flower Cathedral. He’s wonderful at hosting weddings—every couple he marries ends up happy.”

Isidor vaguely recalled a small line he’d seen when browsing house listings:

Garden City has an open and accepting culture, thanks largely to the former mayor and her wife. This was one of the first cities in Europe to legalize same-sex marriage.

At the time, he hadn’t paid much attention to that line. He hadn’t truly thought of himself as part of Asta’s future. But why had he still chosen this place among other equally suitable addresses?
Maybe that was his secret wish…

“Alright,” Isidor curved his emerald eyes and smiled warmly in agreement with the neighbor’s enthusiasm.

The new residents spent most of the day unpacking and organizing their luggage.
They sincerely thanked the neighbors who came to help and promised to visit them in the next couple of days.
Though it was only their first day, their kitchen was quickly filled with various local specialties.
There was a cranberry cookie that Asta particularly liked, while the human took a liking to the local coffee beans.

They also found a black book on the shelf.

Placed right at the center, Isidor gently took the book from where it had seemingly chosen to live and promised to reserve that spot for it forever.
So long as the Heavenly Dao ever arrived in this world, it could always return to this book.

By then, it was evening.
The villa was lit with warm yellow lights, making every corner feel cozy.
Asta, hearing the commotion, also wandered over.
At home, the monster was less restrained—its lower body had fully transformed into tentacles in a relaxed state, and it was holding a candy jar.

“Want one?” it asked, nudging four or five tentacles into the jar all at once to dig for sweets.

The black book decided it had better speak up before it regretted witnessing these two lovers any longer.

It leapt from Isidor’s hand like a black-and-white seabird, impatiently displaying large words across its pages for its two teammates to see:

“I did it! Handing the book directly to Hill really worked—ha! Too bad you didn’t get to see how I completely crushed the system in the end. It was swallowed whole by the trap I set in advance. I told you it couldn’t escape!”

Asta gently patted its spine like one might calm down an overexcited pet.

“That sounds wonderful,” it said sincerely. “Then you’re done with your duties for now. Why not stay with us a while longer? I know the world consciousness probably has a lot to deal with, but taking a vacation isn’t a problem either.”

The black book swayed with exaggerated dignity, pretending it needed to seriously consider the offer.

Isidor couldn’t help but laugh.
“Staying sounds like a great idea.”

The world consciousness had no real intention of refusing.
Being noticed and appreciated by both the monster and the human had it feeling delighted, ready to agree as if giving an award speech:

“This was really a team effort. I think we definitely deserve to celebrate togeth—”

The writing stopped abruptly.

As if something had forcibly cut it off mid-sentence.

The book housing the world consciousness began to tremble erratically.
It tried to steady itself, but though the cover stayed still, the pages began to flap wildly like snow in a sudden gust.

Then the pages froze, hanging in the air over one line of red text:

“Warning: Anomaly detected in Small World No. 249. Without intervention, systemic collapse is imminent.”

This was clearly the book’s internal processing center.
The red text was a message meant only for it.
Whatever the case, it wasn’t something the others were supposed to see.

Asta reached out, but the black book quickly flipped the page and said with an almost guilty air:

“Maybe just pretend you didn’t see that…”

“What is it?” Asta asked, sounding steady and reliable as it put down the candy jar.
“Looks like an emergency. But didn’t you say the system was completely neutralized?”

The world consciousness shifted direction, its pages drooping like it had no energy:

“That’s the thing. I hadn’t received any signals like this before. The disruption seems unrelated to the system we dealt with, but… their power source feels exactly the same. I really don’t know what’s going on.”

Just moments ago, it had been joyfully celebrating its victory.
Now, trouble had landed straight on its face, making its earlier delight seem ridiculous.
The world consciousness felt a little ashamed.

“So, I…”

“You have to go check it out.”

Asta’s expression was only filled with concern.
“If you need Isidor and me to help, just say the word. I think what you’ve done is already amazing. No matter what, you managed to completely eliminate the system’s influence in this world.”

The human echoed the sentiment.
“The fact that a new crisis is only now appearing proves your previous actions were successful—so effective that some force had to resort to extraordinary measures. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Somehow, whenever the monster and the human spoke like this, the black book would always feel strangely moved.

The world consciousness thought desperately, This is so bad, while at the same time feeling shamelessly content—like a small animal being gently stroked. It took one last look at the “nest” left for it at the center of the bookshelf, knowing full well it would be leaving soon.

“Thank you,” it wrote earnestly. “I’ll come back again.”

The black book circled once in the air, then dropped into Asta’s hands.
At the very moment Asta felt its weight change, he opened it again—and, as expected, it had become nothing more than the empty shell of a hardcover book.

The monster placed it back in the middle of the bookshelf, momentarily dazed.
Isidor sat quietly beside him, keeping him company.

But the emotion of an old friend’s sudden departure didn’t linger too long.
After all, the world consciousness had its own mission—and they believed it would succeed. They also believed they’d see it again.

“Isidor,” Asta suddenly said, “would you like to see real stars?”

It was already night.
The previous evening, they had swiftly erased all traces that could lead back to the research institute. They hadn’t even had time to truly relax.
Today had been filled with moving tasks.
To Isidor—who knew more about human society—this was his first time actually living outside the institute.

The monster suddenly wanted to show him something.

Like the timeless starry sky.
And the deep, boundless ocean.
The good news was: from the rooftop of their villa, they could see both.

In Garden City, people always turned off their lights early.
The whole town quickly became peaceful and quiet.

Which meant that above the darkened city, the stars shone extra bright.

The villa backed onto an open beach and the sea.
The shadows cast by trees made the scenery even more mysterious.
The surface of the water sparkled faintly—reflections of countless stars scattered across the black abyss.

“I really like it.”

The starlight reflected in Isidor’s eyes.
That emerald green hidden in the darkness looked so real, as if it could be touched—trembling as it was set ablaze by the stars.

“It’s so different from the institute. The fake sky always looked perfectly standardized.
But here, some stars you can see clearly, others not at all.
The sea is the same. I’d imagined what the outside world might look like, but this… this is beyond anything imagination could hold.”

“You can see it every day from now on,” Asta said. “And you can plant flowers on the windowsill, just like everyone else.”

“Or open a patisserie or coffee shop,” Isidor added, hesitating slightly.
“Asta, do you remember I once wanted to give you a gift? But I left it in my office drawer, and eventually the institute took it away.”

“Of course I remember,” Asta smiled. “It’s okay—we can think about gifts later.”

“No, it’s not that,” Isidor looked a bit nervous, making the monster want to ruffle his soft-looking brown hair.
But the human solemnly took a small box from his pocket.

Asta blinked in surprise, then laughed softly. “You went and got it back?”

“It was just on the way,” Isidor replied with his eyes lowered.
He handed the box over carefully.
“I had John take me to the institute’s core archive room. I really still wanted to give it to you.”

The Tsavorite bracelet was once again placed on the human’s wrist.
The bright green gemstone reflected the light beautifully.
It no longer served as a communication device—Isidor had removed the core component.
The two black stars on it cheerfully bumped into one another.

What is it?

Asta accepted the box.
Their fingers brushed briefly—just a fleeting touch—but left behind a subtle sensation.
He opened the box, lined with fine velvet, revealing a bright green gemstone that shimmered with the lightness of a lake.

It was a Tsavorite ring.

—Just like the human’s eyes.

“It’s not anything precious,” Isidor said, sounding inexplicably even more nervous, “Asta… I just thought you might like this kind of gem, since you always say my eyes are beautiful.”

“Is that all?”

Asta didn’t hesitate to put the ring on,
But it had a sneaky suspicion, from Isidor’s flustered tone, that there was more to it—
So it asked again, teasingly.

It guessed Isidor’s face was probably starting to heat up already.

“The stars,” Isidor suddenly looked up.
Those emerald pupils burned with brilliance strong enough to outshine any gem.

“When you said earlier to the neighbors that we were planning our wedding, I knew it was real.
But because it made me so happy… because I liked it so much…
Can you say it again—just to me?”

“Mm,” the monster replied, “It’s true.
When humans love one another, they marry.
Juliet and Romeo ran away together, and even they found a chapel willing to wed them.
So I think we should have one too.”

“Asta,” Isidor murmured the monster’s name, “my star.
Let me tell you another custom from human society.
Before marriage, there’s usually a step called a proposal—asking the one you love to marry you.”

“Is that so?”

“It is,” Isidor’s voice trembled.
He reached out and gently touched the gemstone on the monster’s finger.
“And a proposal means preparing a ring for the one you love.
The one I just gave you—that’s what it is.”

Asta thought it probably needed to study more about human customs.
Such a meaningful ritual had just… happened, without ceremony.

It briefly considered taking the ring off and redoing the moment properly.

But Isidor stopped it.

“No… this is just right.”

Under the silver glow of the stars, the human gazed at the monster sitting beside him.

Then he stepped back.

His movements were graceful and slow, as if he were performing a secret language—
a love letter written with his body.

Isidor lowered his lashes, breathing unsteadily, his back straight.

Then, he knelt on one knee before Asta.

He took Asta’s hand, and kissed the gem on its ring finger.

“Will you?” he asked. “Asta, will you be my star?”

Asta reached out and touched his shoulder—
The human shivered slightly.
In such a special moment, under such special light,
even the smallest movement could carry the greatest weight.

“It would be an honor,” Asta whispered. “I would love to, Isidor.”

Tonight’s stars were boundless.

They fell to the edge of the sky, to the bottom of the sea,
to the ends of the world,
and into the eyes of those who loved each other.