Marianne quietly watched the completely broken Allen, and the fiery admiration and attachment in her heart didn’t diminish—instead, it burned even more fiercely.
Allen was human.
He felt pain, got hurt, and despaired, just as fragile as she was.
It was precisely because of this that she was more certain than anyone else that Allen was God’s messenger.
Marianne and Allen shared similar souls.
As Marianne’s yandere nature deepened, her understanding of Allen also grew more profound.
She discovered that Allen’s heart was already covered in scars.
When they danced together in the rain, Marianne sensed that Allen had reached his limit.
He had been bluffing all along, trying to mask his deepest fear and despair with madness.
In Allen’s black eyes, Marianne saw no will to live.
All she saw was loneliness, numbness, self-deception, and a raging hatred.
It was this hatred that drove Allen to keep running forward, even if it meant running toward destruction.
Marianne needed to save Allen, just as Allen had saved her.
But Allen’s psychological defenses were too strong; he would never allow Marianne to approach his heart.
Marianne wasn’t Allen—she didn’t realize that her yandere nature was a sickness.
She simply projected herself onto him.
Since she had found a new self after her own inner collapse, attaining “true” happiness, then Allen, who was similar to her, must also be able to find happiness through complete breakdown, right?
With the idea of saving Allen in mind, Marianne began formulating the “Allen Collapse Plan.”
Her delicate, intricate young heart quickly found a breakthrough—
Allen was avoiding her feelings.
He was so smart; how could he not see through Marianne’s intentions?
Yet, despite knowing how Marianne felt about him, Allen instinctively chose to escape, constantly using Livia to cut the connection between himself and Marianne.
In the face of someone’s unconditional love, Allen felt utterly lost—that was his weakness!
Marianne used the excuse of serving him during his bath to probe Allen.
Sure enough, Allen took the bait.
His fierce resistance wasn’t rejection—it was fear!
What was he afraid of?
Marianne thought of her own twisted feelings toward Livia and suddenly understood.
Allen had been hurt by this world time and again, so he no longer trusted others and refused to accept the love the world offered him.
Marianne, relying solely on her yandere intuition, had almost uncovered the entire truth!
Now that she knew Allen feared others’ love, her task was simple.
She had to force love upon Allen, to make him confront her feelings and leave him no room to escape.
With nowhere left to retreat, Allen would completely collapse.
Or perhaps the merciful Lord wouldn’t allow His messenger to continue suffering.
While tidying near Allen’s bedroom, Marianne happened to overhear Allen’s almost manic murmurs.
From them, she heard terrifying secrets she had never known before.
She burst into Allen’s room and found him seemingly possessed by a demon, struggling desperately on the bed in a strange posture.
Seeing Allen suffer so much, Marianne could only press her body against his chest to restrain his violent movements from harming himself.
When Allen woke from his nightmare, Marianne saw him at his most vulnerable and desperate.
At that moment, Marianne instantly realized this was the perfect time to execute her “Allen Collapse Plan.”
She acted according to her plan—and easily succeeded.
Marianne’s success was more of a fortunate accident.
Allen happened to be at the point where the “Observer’s” pressure had cracked his first layer of defense, and Marianne’s kiss instantly shattered the second.
Allen’s soft heart was now open to Marianne; she would implant the will to live deep within him.
Marianne would force Allen to live, just as Allen had forced her to live.
“Why must we have a happy ending?”
Marianne stepped forward and gently embraced the curled-up Allen, her voice full of deep emotion.
Allen suddenly raised his head, his black eyes filled with confusion.
“Master, I hate this world too,” Marianne said softly.
“More than once, I’ve wondered why I came to this world. Is living only to feel endless pain?”
“Everyone dies eventually, so what’s the meaning of living? What’s the point of pain?”
“I also want to destroy everything, including myself. That’s why I joined The Church. I can never forget the pain when the Fake Crest was implanted. I thought pain would give me strength to take revenge on you… but in the end, I chickened out.”
“No matter how strong a person appears, there’s always a weak spot inside. Why torture yourself over your own weakness?”
“Pain is the norm in this world. All happiness is built on top of pain. Maybe happiness never truly existed from the start.”
“If we can’t obtain happiness, should we just give up living? Master, we don’t live to pursue happiness; we live to avoid pain. Along the way, we entangle each other, torment each other—isn’t that happiness?”
“Why do you want me to have happiness all to myself while leaving you in despair’s shadow? Why can’t we suffer together, face it together?”
“You say there’s nothing in this world worth loving, but don’t I deserve your love? Your father, Viscount Bernard de Laval? Old Master Bernard? Mr. Leclerc, the old steward? Don’t you love them?”
Marianne cupped Allen’s face, looking into his pain-filled eyes, speaking every word clearly:
“You never truly hated the world. What you hate, Master, is yourself.”
Allen remained silent for a long time.
Outside the window, the faint morning light struggled to pierce the heavy curtains.
After a while, Allen seemed to surface from deep water, exhaling a long, self-mocking breath.
“Marianne, if I were the protagonist of a story, I suppose the heroine wouldn’t be Livia. It would be you.”
“I’m honored to be your heroine,” Marianne smiled.
“Did you really come up with those words just now?” Allen looked at her.
“Actually, you inspired me,” Marianne said softly.
“You taught me that pain isn’t meaningless.”
Allen closed his eyes and smiled bitterly.
“Marianne, I always thought I was the clear-headed master doctor, here to cure your ‘illness.’ But now I see, doctors can’t heal themselves. My illness is worse than yours. I’m arrogant and foolish—incurable.”
“That’s fine, Master,” Marianne’s smile held a strange satisfaction.
“I’m incurable too. So why would you ever abandon me? Aren’t we bound by fate?”
“Marianne,” Allen opened his eyes, a trace of helpless amusement flickering in them, “you’re fighting me with my own tactics. When did you learn that trick?”
“From the moment you spared my life,” Marianne answered without hesitation.
Allen closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Even villains have moments of weakness—that’s normal.
But Allen wouldn’t stay weak forever.
Just now, he had a meltdown under the pressure of the “Observer,” and then another under Marianne’s kiss.
This time, what burst forth was not virtue but torment.
Allen’s greatest fear was losing control over his life.
But now, he had come to understand.
If the heavens want to rain and women want to marry, let them be.
“Marianne,” Allen’s voice regained its calm, “how much of my sleep talk did you hear?”
“From you murmuring about humanity’s destruction to teaching me how to carve words into your heart—I heard it all,” Marianne replied calmly.
“Is that so?”
Allen suddenly felt that the crushing weight of the Humanity Destruction Crisis wasn’t so heavy anymore.
He felt much lighter.
Sure, he couldn’t share those heavy burdens and terrifying secrets with anyone.
But getting caught mumbling in one’s sleep…that’s not something he could be blamed for, right?
“In your eyes, who am I?”
Allen asked knowingly.
“God’s messenger,” Marianne answered without hesitation.
“I guess you would think so,” Allen smiled faintly.
“Even if I’m not now, I have to be.”
“Master Allen, ‘Earth’…”
Marianne tried to say the word, “is that your true homeland?”
“Yes,” Allen’s voice carried a distant weariness and deep longing.
“That is my home, the place my soul yearns for. No matter how much I want to return, I can never go back.”
At last, Marianne saw Allen’s most genuine self—a weary, homesick traveler from another world.
Allen was truly exhausted.
Dying 999 times was unimaginable torment for any sane, ordinary human.
If before he still foolishly thought he could survive, then after confronting the “Observer,” the terrifying being who had destroyed human civilization countless times, Allen’s will to live collapsed.
He felt utterly powerless.
He was just an ordinary person without a cataclysmic Emblem like Livia, only armed with the experience from countless death cycles.
But what use was that?
In the “Observer’s” eyes, human civilization was just a petri dish for amusement, and Allen a pathetic ant living inside it.
Could an ant in a bottle shatter the bottle?
The world of Starshine Serenade had no “Hell difficulty” mode because it was Hell itself.
At this moment, Marianne, as if to seal their relationship, asked, “Master, what do you think our relationship is?”
Allen looked at her and answered clearly:
“Master and servant, brother and sister, comrades, allies, bound by fate…but certainly not lovers.”
“In that case,” Marianne smiled, pure and serene, “the kiss I gave you just now was the respect a sister shows her brother, the gratitude of a maid to her master, the affection between comrades, the friendship between allies. But it will never be the love of a woman for a man.”
Allen raised an eyebrow.
“Is that really okay?”
“Master, isn’t that the twisted relationship you want?”
Marianne countered, her gaze softening.
“For me, it doesn’t matter what our relationship is. As long as I’m by your side, I’m happy.”
“Marianne, I’m such a bastard. I wish I were as strong as you.”
Allen could analyze anyone’s heart—but not his own.
Doing so was too painful.
He continued his instinctive cycle from last life—escaping again and again, thinking if he fled fast enough, he could avoid death endings.
He was wrong.
Under the threat of the “Observer,” Allen had to find a new will to live!
Not just for himself, but for those he loved!
To do this, he had to face his truest self.
…Self?
Allen suddenly realized something.
“Marianne, give me a mirror.”
“Right away, Master.”
Allen took the mirror, and a young face stared back: His black hair was disheveled and stuck to his sweaty forehead, his eye sockets hollow with dark shadows—the marks of long torment by nightmares.
His bloodless lips, which should have been handsome, looked harsh from his habitual villainous sneer.
Most alarming were his eyes—
What should have been clear black youthful eyes were now coated in a dull haze—empty, confused, hiding numbness and brokenness hammered by despair.
Allen’s entire face was etched with scars from the death cycle and inner torment, like a finely crafted porcelain shattered and roughly glued back together, fragile and vulnerable.
“Marianne…have I always looked like this?”
Allen’s voice trembled.
Marianne nodded.
“Yes, Master. You’re far more broken than you think.”
“Looks like I’m not much different from my past self.”
Allen suddenly recalled the “Observer’s” words:
“Crossing worlds? Reincarnation? It seems you have forgotten the beginning of all stories.”
Then Allen had a terrifying guess—
Maybe he wasn’t a transmigrator who possessed the original Allen.
Maybe he was just Allen de Laval himself, but with memories from a transmigrator.
Endlessly escaping because of pain, hoping for self-destruction, deeply regretting ruining everything, yet lacking the courage to change or make amends…
Wasn’t that the true nature of Allen de Laval?
Allen’s guess was backed by a truth he had long avoided—
He couldn’t remember his name before crossing over.
Yes, Allen remembered his past life clearly, except he forgot his own name.
Psychologically, this could be explained—
Allen forgot his name because of severe trauma.
To cut off painful memories, his brain “deleted” his name so he wouldn’t recall the trauma.
But the problem was, the suffering in the death cycles should have been linked to the name Allen de Laval, right?
Why did he forget his original name instead of selectively forgetting Allen de Laval?
Could it be that before crossing over, he had suffered an even worse trauma than the death cycles?
No matter…it didn’t matter.
What was the point of agonizing over who he was?
As if understanding his identity would let him escape the world’s crisis.
Allen laughed at himself.
Now, he was Allen de Laval, and no one else.
“Marianne, I’m really just a fool who has been deceiving himself and is weaker than anyone else—not some sacred messenger. Doesn’t that shatter your illusions about me?”
“Of course not. I’m your maid, your companion. I love every part of you, including your weakness. In fact, your weakness makes me happy.”
Marianne smiled with a hint of yandere delight.
“You finally let me see the real you.”
“Fine, as long as you’re happy.”
Allen finally raised his signature villainous smirk, tinged with mischief.
“So, you stupid maid, my dumb little sister, have you had enough fun watching the master’s antics?”
“Not yet, Master,” Marianne smiled brightly.
“Hmph.”
Allen snorted, fully back to his usual lazy yet alert, cynical but utterly reliable self.
“Marianne, are you afraid? Of the world’s terrifying destruction?”
Allen gazed at the brightening sky outside.
“No,” Marianne answered without hesitation.
“Why?”
“If you don’t intend to live beyond the world’s destruction, why worry about it?”
Marianne smiled.
“Your worry means you want to live. As long as you live, as long as you stay by my side, I’m not afraid.”
“Even death can’t separate us.”
Allen began to understand why some people liked yandere characters.
He did…sort of like Marianne.
But this wasn’t shallow romantic love.
His feelings transcended “liking” and felt more like a spiritual resonance and belonging.
He was so lonely.
If in this cycle he could die less alone, Maybe he could finally let go of his hatred for this world and peacefully sink into eternal sleep.
That was the redemption he sought.
“Marianne, do you think I can save this world?”
“Of course. You can save this world just like you saved me.”
“But I never saved you. I only planned to use you.”
“Precisely because you saved me could you use me, right?”
“Alright, Marianne, you’ve convinced me. Our plan remains.”
Allen’s gaze sharpened as he stared at the dawn outside, his expression softening, “We still have to deal with Livia. This time, not for a happy ending, but to live painfully.”
“Even if humanity is doomed to destruction, we will witness that final moment. Marianne, I’m not alone anymore, right?”
“Of course,” Marianne softly replied, her eyes shining with determination.
She helped Allen to the window, and they stood side by side.
Allen reached out and swiftly drew open the heavy curtains.
The golden-red dawn flooded the room, dispelling all shadows, gently bathing them both and casting a warm glow around their silhouettes.
“Go save humanity, Master,” Marianne said softly but with strength, looking at Allen bathed in morning light.
“This world is worth your love.”
Allen squinted slightly against the sunrise, feeling a long-lost warmth, a faint curve forming at the corner of his mouth.
“Yes.”
Marianne gazed dreamily at her master, the crimson gleam of her yandere love undiminished—in fact, deepened.
At the corner of her mouth, an inadvertent smile appeared—a blend of triumphant scheming and youthful infatuation.
That morning, after 999 lonely death cycles, Allen de Laval truly found a companion walking beside him for the first time.