The first time Rio witnessed a “Star Eater,” she was observing the collapse of a red giant on the brink of destruction. Swirling clouds of gas disintegrated, casting dazzling light across the cosmos, and from the remnants of the dying star emerged a shadow. It was impossible to discern whether it was a living being or a mass of energy. Yet Rio’s years of research had uncovered a consistent truth: these enigmatic entities, dubbed “Star Eaters,” always appeared at the death throes of stars.
“Why do you devour stars?”
Rio stared at the monitor as if the question could cross the void of space. That night, she found her answer in a dream.
In the dream, Rio saw through the perspective of a Star Eater. Drifting through the cold vacuum, she was inexorably drawn to a dying star. As she touched its surface, light burst forth, and an overwhelming torrent of memories flooded her consciousness. She saw the star’s birth, its blazing life across billions of years, and the lives of the creatures who had thrived on its orbiting worlds—their joys, their sorrows, their fleeting struggles.
When she woke, Rio felt something profound etched into her soul. Star Eaters were not merely consuming stars; they were preserving their memories and transporting them somewhere else. These memories, she realized, were the seeds that nourished the growth of the universe itself.
Driven by this revelation, Rio defied her colleagues’ warnings and launched an unmanned probe to track a Star Eater. The data it gathered unveiled an astonishing truth: the Star Eaters carried the collected memories to the farthest reaches of the cosmos, where they scattered them like seeds for new stars to form. Rio trembled at the implications of this cycle of destruction and rebirth.
But before she could share her findings with the world, the government intervened. Declaring the Star Eaters a “threat to humanity,” officials demanded their eradication in the name of security. Rio faced an impossible choice: to suppress the truth, or to release it and risk humanity attempting to confront the will of the cosmos itself.
Resolutely, she made her decision. Quietly operating her console, she transmitted all her data to the public domain. To destroy the Star Eaters, she believed, would be to deny the very essence of the universe.
Years later, humanity’s understanding of the Star Eaters had evolved. They were no longer seen as harbingers of doom but as pilgrims of the cosmos, guiding the cycle of life and death among the stars. The fear of dying stars had given way to awe for the grand design of the universe.
Rio often recalled her final dream. In it, she had seen countless memories of extinguished stars coalesce into a brilliant new light. It was the birth of something extraordinary, carrying the echoes of all that had come before.
Now, gazing at the heavens, Rio saw that same light—new stars kindled from the ashes of the old. She closed her eyes, her heart filled with quiet faith in the future.
