"A people. The last of us. Our sun is failing. It was never meant to last—a borrowed star, a remnant of a dead galaxy. We have three thousand cycles before darkness swallows us whole."
Arvus had no mouth, but he learned to shape vibration into meaning. "What are you?"
And somewhere in the darkness between galaxies, Starmaker Arvus—who had no hands, no eyes, no heart—felt the warmth of being known. And for the first time, he understood: a star was never just a star. It was a promise that someone, somewhere, was watching.