Chapter 5: The Test Begins

Chapter 5: The Test Begins

“...A new era?”

The voice that broke the silence was low and rasping, like steel dragged across stone.

From the corner shadows, the griffin-masked man—the same one who had earlier demanded to buy Tendou—rose slowly to his feet.

His gaze locked onto the Doctor. “Doctor… it seems you have conveniently forgotten to explain one very important question.”

The heavy clack, clack of his cane echoed through the chamber as he walked, the rhythm punctuated by the mechanical hiss of his prosthetic left leg. Step by step, he approached the center of the room, until he stood directly before the enormous holographic projection of Tendou.

Then, without warning, he thrust out his hand—straight through the boy’s glowing image.

“The question is this: your so-called ‘perfect creation’... is he truly controllable?”

His fingers clenched, and the hologram shattered into fragments of light.

“As one who has walked the path of power, I refuse to believe any Starbearer worth the name would willingly live as a mere tool for another’s dream. Don’t you agree?”

The fragments of light fell away, like the fading traces of an illusion.

A metaphor made flesh: this “perfect creation,” this “new era,” nothing but a fragile fantasy.

The griffin-masked man knew this better than anyone. He was a powerful Starbearer himself. He knew the pride that burned in their hearts.

And geniuses—true geniuses—were even more impossible to contain.

They could be used. They could be shackled. But they would never submit to a gilded cage, never be paraded as someone else’s pet, never march willingly to another’s command.

Doctor, however, merely looked at him with a faint, knowing smile—like a man who had already anticipated the objection.

“My dear guest,” he said smoothly, “it seems you are the one mistaken.”

“Oh?” The griffin tilted his head, curiosity flickering beneath the mask.

“I said it from the very beginning: Tendou is our chosen leader.”

“Control?” Doctor shook his head slowly. “We have never sought to control him. He need only live as himself.”

“Even if that choice leads us to ruin, so be it. Because even then, we believe he will carry Ember’s rebirth to new heights—achieving our dream in his own way. Not ours.”

The griffin fell silent, staring hard at Doctor as if trying to pierce the silver mask. After a long moment, he sighed.

“I see. So you’ve already accepted the worst-case scenario... and chosen to stake everything on him regardless.”

A pause. Then a slow nod.

“In that case, I have no further objections.”

He turned away, returning to his seat, the cane’s tapping once again marking his steps.

The others did not speak. Not because they disagreed, but because they understood. They had not come here today, risking the wrath of the Starbearer Association, merely to see one boy.

Yes, Masamune Tendou was extraordinary. Perhaps even terrifying.

But was his brilliance the fruit of the Stellaris Program—or simply his own?

That was the question.

And so, more than the boy, what truly interested them were the others.

The other Children of the Stars.

Even if none could rival Tendou, even a mere fraction—one-tenth of his ability—would be proof enough of the project’s success. And that, in turn, meant astronomical value.

Doctor, of course, knew precisely what was on their minds.

His fingers danced across the console. The projection flickered—then shifted.

This time, the hologram displayed a girl.

A young girl, perhaps eleven years of age, her hair the color of rich earth, her eyes gleaming scarlet like fresh-spilled blood.

In her hands she wielded a blade—long, crimson, and alive. It writhed hungrily, drinking deep of the blood that splattered across its edge.

She was locked in combat with three hulking Starbeasts, her movements savage, relentless.

Her battle was nothing like Tendou’s graceful dance. No elegance, no flawless rhythm.

Only raw carnage.

And yet—the fact remained. An eleven-year-old child was standing toe-to-toe with three fully-grown Starbeasts.

It was astonishing in its own right.

“Children of the Stars, Sequence 002,” Doctor intoned, his voice carrying through the chamber.

“Chen Xing. Natural-type: Bloodflame Beast. Star Core compatibility—99%.”

“Like Tendou, she has yet to obtain any Star Origin.”

The chamber once again buzzed with whispers, eyes gleaming behind ornate masks.

Unlike the lengthy introduction given for Tendou earlier, Chen Xing’s profile was shown only briefly before the Doctor moved on.

“Children of the Stars, Sequence 003—Jing Liuli. Trait Type: Mirror Blossoms Butterfly. Star Core compatibility: 92%.”

“Children of the Stars, Sequence 004—Caroline. Machina Type: Heavenly Mechanisms Feline. Star Core compatibility: 90%.”

“Children of the Stars, Sequence 005—”

“—Sequence 036—Chen Kong. Trait Type: Void Star. Star Core compatibility: Unknown.”

Each introduction came with a clip of combat footage. Yet when the last one appeared, the display was barren.

No combat record.

No details.

Only a name and a single, chilling word: Unknown.

The lady in the golden canary mask tilted her head curiously. “Doctor, why does this final kid have so little information? And why is his Star Core compatibility marked as ‘unknown’?”

The Doctor fell silent for a moment before giving a vague, elusive answer.

“That is because… we cannot be certain whether he truly completed the Star Core surgery.”

“What?”

The canary-masked woman’s eyes widened. From the files she had received from Ember, she knew the truth: the so-called Star Core surgery was nothing short of nine deaths out of ten.

For Chen Kong to be alive at all meant the operation should have been successful. How could there possibly be uncertainty?

Unless… this boy was special. Unless the Doctor had deliberately chosen to hide his true data.

Everyone present was shrewd enough to think the same thing. Though the Doctor gave little away, the name “Chen Kong” was engraved into their memories.

They were eager to see his performance.

After all, the final trial was about to begin.

When that moment came, no matter if Chen Kong was truly the anomaly the Doctor claimed—an uncertain outcome in the ranks of the Chosen—or a secret weapon Ember had hidden away, the truth would reveal itself in the crucible of battle.

Reports could lie. But the battlefield never would.

“Now then, everyone,” the Doctor said, adjusting his glasses. “The arena for the final trial has been prepared. Please, follow me.”

The group rose to their feet as one and trailed after him deeper into the base.

At the same time, a cold, mechanical female voice echoed across the training grounds:

“Final trial commencing. All candidates, report to the Central Arena.”

With a heavy groan, a metallic gate sank into the earth, revealing a yawning passageway that led into the depths below.

The tunnel seemed endless, a devouring void.

Chen Kong’s heart clenched. His body gave an involuntary shiver.

Fear. Raw and suffocating.

“Nervous?”

A warm hand landed on his shoulder.

He turned. Tendou was there, somehow at his side without him noticing.

“When you feel cornered, when there’s nowhere left to run…” Tendou’s golden eyes softened. “Ask yourself—why are you still alive now?”

Chen Kong froze, unable to reply.

Tendou didn’t wait for an answer. He turned, raising his voice. “Caroline! Let’s go.”

“Mm.”

Without hesitation, Tendou strode forward. Caroline followed at his heels, the two vanishing into the abyss of the tunnel.

“Tch.” Chen Xing clicked her tongue and marched in after them.

The rest exchanged brief glances, then quickly followed suit.

Chen Kong lingered for just a moment, staring at Tendou’s retreating back.

‘Why am I alive now…?’

He didn’t know.

But something deep in his chest whispered that this final trial would bring him the answer he sought.

Taking a deep breath, Chen Kong stepped forward and disappeared into the underground passage with the others.

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