Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

4.6 billion years ago: A group of protostars (hypothetically anywhere from two to six, but two is our best guess), one of which will eventually become the sun, formed a cloud of debris (a Stellar Nursery) left by prior superb explosions in the Milky Way.

4.59 billion years ago: The gas giants begin to form. In addition to the four we have today, one or two extras were formed, which were later ejected from the solar system. Jupiter, Uranus, and Neptune formed closer to the Sun than they are today.

4.55 billion years ago: The Sun ignites as it begins fusing hydrogen into helium.

4.54 billion years ago: Earth (and the other rocky planets) were formed at temperatures over 12000 degrees Celsius.

4.5 billion years ago: Planet Theia collides with Earth. The debris forms the moon.

4.4 billion years ago: The Sun gravitationally separates from its protostar siblings.

4.1-3.8 billion years ago: The giant planets’ orbits shift (including Jupiter moving from the rocky planet side to the gas planet side of the asteroid belt due to Saturn’s gravity. This causes most of the rocky planets to be destroyed) scattering debris throughout the solar system and forming the asteroid belt. Meteors bombard the inner planets, delivering water and organics to Earth, Venus, and Mars.

4-3 billion years ago: Small world bombardment causes widespread volcanism on the inner planets.

4.0 billion years ago: After a violent encounter with Jupiter (and possibly influenced by Saturn), the fifth gas giant is hurled from the solar system into interstellar space.

3-4 billion years ago: A bigger than Earth-sized rock, possibly a planet, crashes into Uranus, resulting in its 98-degree tilt.

3.9 billion years ago: Meteorites with water bombard Earth for 29 million years, forming the oceans. Water is also delivered to Venus and Mars.

3.8 billion years ago: Single-celled bacteria developed in the oceans. Earth has its first life.

3.5 billion years ago: Bacterial colonies began producing oxygen with photosynthesis. Earth’s atmosphere becomes 22% oxygen, turning it clear as opposed to its previous yellow due to methane abundance.

3.0 billion years ago: Solar winds combined with volcanic activity that produced abundant carbon dioxide, stripping Venus of its surface water, leaving it the toxic, barren mess it is today.

3.0 billion years ago: Due to the lack of intense gravity and a magnetic field, solar winds strip Mars of its water, rendering it a desert world.

1.5 billion years ago: Earthquakes break Earth’s crust apart into plates, causing land to form in the ocean. This is the time when Pangea, the supercontinent, appears.

1.0 billion years ago: Volcanism on the moon stops.

750 million years ago: The longest and coldest ice age. The temperature drops to -500 degrees C, covering most of the planet in ice.

735 million years ago: Volcanoes erupt carbon dioxide, trapping heat and ending the ice age.

540 million years ago: Ocean life begins to grow complex with the development of plankton, sponges, early fish, and worms.

433 million years ago: The first mass extinction occurred as ice covered most of the planet. It wiped out 85% of all sea life.

434 million years ago: The first plants evolved from green algae along the coastline’s Earth’s land became the green it is today.

375 million years ago: The ozone layer forms, making land favorable for more complex life.

360 million years ago: Animals venture onto land. Plants evolve seeds, and trees appear.

359 million years ago: Second mass extinction. Changes in sea level and asteroids kill 75% of all life.

250 million years ago: Reptiles became large. Small lizards increase in size, like the Komodo dragon.

248 million years ago: Third mass extinction. The greatest mass extinction ever killed 96% of all life.

225 million years ago: Earliest dinosaurs and the first mammals appear.

200 million years ago: Fourth mass extinction. It wipes out 50% of all species, beginning the dinosaur’s golden age.

190 million years ago: Oil formation. Dead fish and plankton fossilize and decompose on the sea bed, forming oil and other fossil fuels.

180 million years ago: Continents begin to form. Tectonic plates begin to break away, forming new continents and oceans.

100 million years ago: A meteor impact on the moon forms the Tycho crater. Saturn forms its rings.

80 million years ago: First birds, bees, snakes, and ants appear. Insects dominate the world.

66 million years ago: Fifth mass extinction. A Mount Everest-sized asteroid wipes out all the land dinosaurs.

65 million years ago: Mammals flourish by eating anything and now dominate the planet.

47 million years ago: The Indian and Asian plates collide, forming the Himalayan Mountain range.

2 million years ago: Homo Erectus the first recognizable ancestor of mankind, begins to walk upright.

1.7 million years ago: Cavemen discover and learn to control fire.

250 thousand years ago: Homo Sapiens the prelude to modern-day man appears.

170 thousand years ago: Humans began wearing clothes.

50 thousand years ago: Humans developed complex language.

40 thousand years ago: Humans began making cave paintings.

8,000 BC: Humans developed agriculture and started raising animals for food.

3,500 BC: Humans developed agriculture and written language.

2,500 BC. The Great Pyramids of Giza were built. They are visible from space.

700 BC: The Great Wall of China is constructed. It is also visible from space.

600 BC. The Greeks discovered electricity.

1346: The Black Death killed 25 million people in 7 years.

1760: The Industrial Revolution. Humans develop machines to help with work. This is the time pollution becomes a global issue, and the environment begins to suffer.

1957 October 4th: The first satellite, Sputnik 1, is launched into space.

1961 April 1st: The first man, Yuri, is launched into space.

1961: June 16th: The first woman, Valentina, is launched into space.

1958: Explorer 1 is launched into space.

1959: A solar hurricane washes over Earth, creating the largest geomagnetic storms ever recorded on our planet. Massive auroras occurred as far south as the Caribbean. In some places, the auroras were so bright that people got up thinking the Sun had risen despite it being the middle of the night. At the time, the only relatively modern technology was the telegraph system, and the solar storm caused it to fail worldwide. Reported effects include shocking their operators, spitting sparks, and flashing lights.

1969 July 16th: The moon landing.

1980: The digital revolution. Humans shift from analog to digital technology.

1989: A strong solar storm knocks out the entire territory of Quebec’s power grid.

2012: A solar hurricane in par with the Carrington Event barely misses Earth.

2020: The human population reaches 7.8 billion people.

2025: The Sun reaches a maximum of 115 sunspots, increasing Solar activity such as solar storms, hurricanes, and flares. The Sun produces massive solar eruptions, possibly damaging Earth’s electrical and satellite grids and knocking out tech worldwide.

1,000 years: Due to lunar tides decelerating Earth's rotation, a day becomes 1/30 of a second longer.

1,100 years: As Earth's poles rotate, Gamma Cephi replaces Polaris as the northern pole star.

1,100 years: If global warming continues at the same rate until now, the East Antarctic ice sheet will have completely melted. (This is different from the current threat to the West Antarctic ice sheet.)

11,700 years: As Earth's poles rotate, Vega, the fifth brightest star in the sky, becomes the northern pole star. Vega is the brightest of all northern pole stars.

11,000-15,000 years: By now, Earth is halfway through its precessional cycle, meaning Earth's axial tilt is now mirrored. Summer and winter occur on opposite sides of the planet as today's southern hemisphere activity switches with that of the northern hemisphere.

15,000 years: If the Sahara Pump theory is accurate, Earth's new tilt and pole location now makes the North African Monsoon far enough north that the Sahara Desert becomes a tropical climate.

17,000 years: A possible civilization-threatening super volcanic eruption occurs, ejecting one trillion tons of pyroclastic material.

25,000 years: Mars' northern ice cap recedes as the planet's northern hemisphere warms. This is the result of Mars' 50,000-year precessional cycle.

36,000 years: The small red dwarf Ross 248 passes within 3.024 light years of Earth, becoming the closest star besides the Sun. After 8,000 years, it cedes the position of closest star to Alpha Centauri and Gilese 455.

50,000 years: A new Ice Age (assuming that global warming hasn't delayed or skipped it)begins cooling the planet and covering some of it in ice. Niagara Falls erodes the 32 km to Lake Erie and no longer exists. Canada's glacial lakes are erased by post-glacial rebound and erosion.

50,000 years: Due to lunar tides decelerating Earth's rotation, a day becomes 1/30 of a second longer (again.)

100,000 years: Most constellations become unrecognizable, from the stars' movement across the Milky Way.

100,000 years: The red hypergiant star VY Canis Majoris explodes in a supernova.

100,000-ten million years: Cupid and Belinda (moons of Uranus) collide.

<100,000 years: As a long-term effect of global warming, 10% of anthropogenic carbon dioxide remains in the stabilized atmosphere.

250,000 years: Kama'ehuakanaloa (formerly Lohili), the youngest volcano in the Hawaiian-Emperor seamount chain, rises above the ocean surface, becoming a volcanic island.

300,000 years: Wolf star WR 104 may explode as a supernova in the next few hundred thousand years. There's a small chance it's spinning fast enough to produce a gamma-ray burst and an even smaller one of it threatening life on Earth.

500,000 years: Assuming it has not been averted, Earth is hit by an asteroid roughly 1 km in diameter around this time.

500,000 years: The terrain of the Badlands National Park in South Dakota erodes.

1 million years: Meteor Crater, the freshest meteor impact crater located in Arizona, erodes.

1 million years: Desdemona and Cressida (moons of Uranus) collide.

1.29+-0.04 million years: The star Gilese 710 passes 0.1663 light years (10,520 astronomical units or AU) closer to the Sun before receding. This gravitationally disturbs the Oort Cloud (a halo of icy bodies at the solar system's edge), raising the likelihood of a cometary impact for the inner planets.

2 million years: Coral reefs fully recover from human-caused acidification, assuming it is stopped. (Marine ecosystems took a similar recovery time from ocean acidification 65 million years ago.)

2.7 million years: The average orbital half-life of the current centaurs (small bodies orbiting the Sun between Uranus and Neptune) is destroyed because of the unstable gravitational interaction of the outer planets.

3 million years: Due to lunar tidal waves slowing Earth's rotation, Earth's day is one minute longer than it is now.

10 million years: The Red Sea floods the East African Rift, making a new ocean basin to divide Africa. The African plate divides into the Nubian and Somali plates. The Indian Plate advances into Tibet by 180 km. The Nepali territory defined by the Himalayas on India's plains ceases to exist.

10 million years: Full biodiversity recovery after a potential Holocene extinction, assuming it occurs and matches the scale of Earth's five previous mass extinctions. Even without the extinction, most current species disappear through background extinction or evolution into a new species.

50 million years: The maximum estimated time before Mars' moon Phobos collides with the planet.

50 million years: The San Andreas fault movement causes the Gulf of California to flood into Central Valley. This forms a new island sea on North America's west coast. As a Result, the current locations of LA and San Francisco merge.

50 million years: The California coast begins to be subducted into the Aleutian Trench. Africa's collision with Eurasia closes the Mediterranean basin and creates a mountain range similar to the Himalayas. The Appalachian Mountains largely weather away a a rate of 5.7 Bubnoff Units, but the landscape rises as regional valleys deepen at twice that rate.

50-60 million years: The Canadian Rockies wear away at a rate of 60 Bubnoff Units. The southern Rocky Mountains are eroding at a somewhat slower rate.

50-400 million years: Earth fully replenishes its natural fossil fuel reserves.

80 million years: The Big Island becomes the last of the Hawaiian Islands to sink beneath the waves, and a more recently formed chain of volcanic islands in the same area becomes the new Hawaiian Islands.

100 million years: Earth is likely to be hit by an asteroid around the size of the one that triggered the K-Pg mass extinction 66 million years ago, assuming the impact is not averted.

100 million years: A new subduction zone opens in the Atlantic Ocean, and the American continents converge towards Africa.

100 million years: Upper estimate for Saturn's rings in their current state.

110 million years: The Sun's luminosity increases by 1%.

180 million years: Due to the gradual slowing of Earth's rotation, Earth's day is one hour longer.

240 million years: The solar system completes one full orbit around the Milky Way's center from its current spot.

250 million years: Due to the west coast of North America moving north, California collides with Alaska.

250-350 million years: Earth's continents may fuse into a supercontinent (Amasia, Novopangea, Pangea Preoxima, and Aurica are four possible arrangements). This likely results in a glacial period, lowering sea levels, and increasing oxygen levels, which further lowers global temperatures.

>250 million years: Rapid biological evolution may occur due to the formation of a supercontinent, lowering sea levels, and rising oxygen concentration. Increased volcanic activity and less hospitable conditions from the brightening Sun cause global warming. This may result in a mass extinction, which the Earth may not recover from.

300 million years: Due to the 40-degree north and southward shifts in the equatorial Hadley cells, the amount of arid land increases by 25%.

300-600 million years: Venus' mantle temperature reaches its maximum. Then, over a 100 million-year period, subduction occurs and the planet's crust is recycled.

350 million years: Subduction ceases in the Pacific Ocean Basin.

400-500 million years: The supercontinent (see arrangements previously listed) has likely drifted apart. This probably results in higher global temperatures similar to those of the Cretaceous period.

500 million years: A gamma ray burst or massive hyperenergetic supernova occurs within 6,500 light years of Earth. This is close enough to affect the ozone layer and potentially cause a mass extinction. However, for the mass extinction to occur, the supernova must be precisely oriented relative to Earth.

500-600 million years: The Sun's increasing luminosity disrupts the carbon-silicate cycle, increasing the weathering of surface rocks and trapping carbon dioxide in the Earth as carbonate. As the Sun brightens, more water evaporates from Earth, making rocks harden. This causes plate tectonics to slow (and eventually stop once the Sun completely evaporates the oceans). With less plate tectonic movement to feed volcanoes, which recycle carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, carbon dioxide levels fall to the point where C3 photosynthesis is impossible. All plants relying on C3 photosynthesis die in a long-term decline, rather than a sharp drop. Plant groups die one by one even before carbon dioxide becomes scarce. First, the herbaceous plants die, then the deciduous forests, the evergreen broadleaf forests, and finally the evergreen conifers die out.

600 million years: Due to tidal deceleration, the moon is far enough from Earth that solar eclipses are impossible.

500-800 million years: As the events listed in the previous entries begin to happen, life could survive longer by evolving new strategies (requiring less oxygen for photosynthesis, becoming carnivorous, adapting to desiccation, associating with fungi, etc.). These adaptations may appear at the beginning of the greenhouse zone. As plants die, oxygen levels fall, resulting in more DNA-damaging UV radiation from the Sun to penetrate Earth's atmosphere. Rising temperatures increase atmospheric chemical reactions, lowering oxygen levels even further. Life becomes increasingly sparse as Earth becomes more barren. Flying animals fare better (they can fly o cooler temperatures over long distances), and other animals are driven underground. These animals evolve to be nocturnal due to intense solar heat and radiation. Most of Earth's land becomes a barren desert, and life is primarily found in the oceans, assuming they are still there.

500-800 million years: The earliest time for plate tectonics to fully stop due to the gradual cooling of Earth's core. This could turn the Earth into a water world, causing the extinction of animal life.

800-900 million years: Carbon dioxide levels fall to the point where C4 photosynthesis is impossible. Without plants to recycle oxygen to the atmosphere, the ozone layer and free atmospheric oxygen disappear, allowing deadly levels of UV radiation to reach Earth's surface. Animals that depend on plants disappear from the food chain shortly after. Most animal life survives 3-100 million years after plants begin dying. It starts with the larger animals dying before the smaller ones. Next, flying creatures, then amphibians, reptiles, and finally invertebrates, die out. Some animal life may survive in the oceans, but eventually all multicelled life dies in this period. The first ocean animals to die are large fish, then smaller fish, and invertebrates. The last animals to go extinct are those that do not depend on plants and those near hydrothermal vents, like tubeworms and termites. The only life on Earth after this is single-celled organisms.

1 billion years: 27% of the ocean's mass is subducted into the mantle. If this continues uninterrupted, it will reach an equilibrium where 65% of present-day surface water is subducted.

1.1 billion years: The Sun's luminosity increases by 10%, causing Earth's surface temperature to reach an average of 320° Kelvin (47°C, 116°F). The atmosphere becomes a moist greenhouse, and the oceans further evaporate. Plate tectonics cease movement, assuming they haven't already. Pockets of water may remain at the poles, allowing simple life.

1.2 billion years: Maximum estimate until the extinction of plant life (assuming some type of photosynthesis is possible, despite nearly nonexistent carbon dioxide). When this occurs, animal life becomes unsustainable.

1.3 billion years: Eukaryotic life becomes extinct due to carbon dioxide starvation. Only single-celled prokaryotic organisms remain.

1.5 billion years: Callisto (Jupiter's moon) is captured into the mean-motion resonance of the other Galilean moons, completing the 1:2:4:8 chain. Currently, only Io, Europa, and Ganymede participate in the 1:2:4:8 resonance.

1.5-1.6 billion years: Due to the Sun's rising luminosity, the circumstellar habitable zone moves outwards. As carbon dioxide levels rise in Mars's atmosphere, its temperature rises to match Earth's during the ice age.

1.5-4.5 billion years: Tidal acceleration moves the moon far enough away that it can no longer stabilize Earth's axial tilt. As a result, Earth's true polar wander becomes more chaotic, causing dramatic shifts in the climate due to the planet's changing axial tilt.

1.6 billion years: Lower estimate until the last remaining life on Earth (colonies of single-celled organisms isolated in caves and high-altitude lakes) goes extinct.

<2 billion years: The first close passage of the Andromeda and Milky Way galaxies.

2 billion years: High estimate until Earth's oceans finish evaporating (if atmospheric pressure were to decrease via the nitrogen cycle).

2.55 billion years: The Sun reaches its maximum surface temperature of 5820° Kelvin (5500°C, 10,020°F). From here on, it gradually becomes cooler while its luminosity continues to increase.

2.8 billion years : Earth's surface temperature even at the poles reaches 420° Kelvin (147°C, 296° F). High estimate until all remaining life on Earth goes extinct.

3 billion years: A roughly 1 in 100,000 chance that the Earth is ejected into interstellar space by a stellar encounter before this point, and a 1 in 3 billion chance it is ejected into space and captured by another star around now. If this occurs, if life were still on Earth, it could survive far longer, assuming the interstellar journey doesn't kill it.

3-4 billion years: Earth's core freezes if the inner core continues to grow in size based on its current growth rate of 1 mm or 0.039 in per year. Without its liquid inner core, Earth's magnetosphere shuts down, and solar winds gradually strip away Earth's atmosphere.

3.3 billion years: 1% chance that Jupiter's gravity makes Mercury's orbit so eccentric that it crosses Venus's orbit, and sends the inner solar system into chaos around this point. Other possible scenarios include Mercury colliding with the Sun, Venus, or Earth and being ejected from the solar system.

3.5-4.5 billion years: The Sun's luminosity increases by 35-40%, causing all water present in lakes at the poles to evaporate (assuming it hasn't already). The greenhouse effect caused by the massive water-rich remaining atmosphere results in Earth's surface temperature rising to 1400° Kelvin (1130°C, 2060°F), hot enough to melt some surface rock.

3.6 billion years: Triton (Neptune's moon) falls through the planet's Roche limit and possibly disintegrates into a planetary ring like Saturn's.

4.5 billion years: Mars reaches the same radiation flux Earth did when it first formed 4.5 billion years ago.

<5 billion years: The Andromeda and Milky Way galaxies fully merge, forming an elliptical galaxy dubbed Milkomeda. There is a small chance of the solar system being ejected, but the planets of the solar system will probably not be disturbed by these events.

5.4 billion years: The Sun exhausts its hydrogen supply, leaves its main sequence stage, and begins turning into a red giant.

6.5 billion years: Mars reaches the same radiation flux as Earth today, after which it suffers a similar fate as described above.

6.6 billion years: The Sun may experience a helium flash, its core becoming as bright as the combined luminosity of all the stars in the Milky Way.

7.5 billion years: Earth and Mars may become tidally locked with the expanding red giant Sun.

7.59 billion years: Earth and its moon are likely destroyed by falling into the Sun as it reaches the height of its red giant phase. Before the final collision, the moon will probably spiral within Earth's Roche limit and break into a ring of debris, some of which will fall to Earth's surface. During this era, Titan (Saturn's moon) may reach temperatures necessary to support life.

7.9 billion years: The Sun reaches the height of its red giant phase achieving, its maximum radius of 256 times its current size (the sun is 0.2 AU wide; and it's estimated to grow more than two AU). In the process Mercury, Venus, and probably Earth are destroyed.

8 billion years: After shedding its outer layers into a planetary nebula, the Sun becomes a carbon-oxygen white dwarf with 54.05% of its current mass. At this point, assuming Earth survived, its temperatures begin rapidly dropping (along with the rest of the planets' temperatures) due to the white dwarf Sun emitting less heat energy.

23.3 billion years: The end of the universe via the "Big Rip" occurs, assuming the model of dark energy with W = -1.5. However, if the density of dark energy is less than -1, the universe's expansion continues to accelerate, and the observable universe grows sparser. 200 million years before the Big Rip, galaxy clusters like the Local Group and Sculpture Group are destroyed. 60 million years before the Big Rip, all galaxies start losing stars around their edges, and in another 40 million years, they completely disintegrate. Three months before the Big Rip, star systems become gravitationally unbound and planets fly off into the rapidly expanding universe. 30 minutes before the Big Rip, planets, stars, asteroids, and even neutron stars and black holes evaporate into atoms. 100 zeptoseconds before the Big Rip, atoms break apart. Finally, once the Big Rip reaches the Planck Scale, cosmic strings are disintegrated as well as the very fabric of space time. The universe enters a rip singularity, and all non-zero distances become infinitely large. Where a crunch singularity is all matter being infinitely concentrated, a rip singularity is all matter being infinitely spread out. However, this is unlikely as recent observations suggest w = -0.991.

50 billion years: Assuming Earth and the moon are not destroyed by the Sun, ejected from the solar system, and the Big Rip has not occurred, Earth and its moon become tidally locked. The Sun's tidal action causes the lunar orbit to decay and Earth's spin to accelerate.

65 billion years: The moon (on the extremely unlikely chance it still exists) collides with Earth or is torn apart to form a ring due to the decay of its orbit (if it hasn't already been engulfed by the red giant Sun).

100-150 billion years: The universe's expansion causes all galaxies beyond the Milky Way's present Local Group to disappear beyond the cosmic light horizon, removing them from the observable universe.

100 billion-100 trillion years: All approximately 47 galaxies of the Local Group condense into one galaxy, an expanded Milkomeda. The last galaxies condensing mark the end of this period.

150 billion years: The universe has expanded by a factor of 6000, and the cosmic microwave background cools by the same factor to around 4.5×10^-4. The background temperature continues to decrease in proportion to the expanding universe.

325 billion years: The universe's expansion isolates all gravitationally bound structures in their cosmological horizon. The universe has expanded by a factor of more than 100 million, and even the most remote exiled stars are now isolated.

800 billion years: The net light emission from the combined Milkomeda galaxy begins to drop as red dwarf stars have passed through their blue dwarf stage of peak luminosity.

1 trillion years: Low estimate until star formation ends, as all galaxies are depleted of the materials needed to form stars. The universe's expansion (assuming a constant energy density) multiplies the cosmic microwave background's wavelength by 10^29. This exceeds the scale of the cosmic light horizon, rendering its evidence of the Big Bang undetectable. But it still may be possible to determine the universe's expansion length by studying hypervelocity stars.

1.05 trillion years: The universe expands by a factor of 10^26, reducing the average particle density to less than one particle per cosmological horizon volume. From here on out, particles of unbound galactic matter are effectively isolated, and collisions between them cease.

1.4 trillion years: Cosmic background radiation cools to the floor temperature of 10^-30 degrees Kelvin and stops declining. This residual temperature comes from horizon radiation, which doesn't drop over time.

2 trillion years: All objects beyond the present-day Local Group are redshifted by more than a factor of 10^35. Even gamma rays are stretched so thin their wavelength becomes longer than the physical diameter of the horizon. The resolution time for such radiation exceeds the physical age of the universe.

4 trillion years: Proxima Centauri, a red dwarf star, leaves its main sequence and becomes a white dwarf.

10 trillion years: The estimated peak habitability time of the universe, unless habitability is suppressed around low-mass stars.

12 trillion years: VB 10, a red dwarf star (currently the least massive main sequence star we know of with a mass of 0.075M), runs out of hydrogen and becomes a white dwarf.

30 trillion years: Stars, including the Sun, undergo close encounters with the stars closest to them. Whenever two stars or stellar remnants pass close enough together, their planetary orbits are disrupted, potentially ejecting them from the system. On average, the closer the planet is to the star, the longer it takes for the planet to be ejected because it's tightly gravitationally bound to said star.

100 trillion years: High estimate until star formation ends in galaxies, marking the transition from the Stelliferois to the Degenerate Era, with too little hydrogen to form new stars. All remaining stars slowly exhaust their fuel and die. The universe expands by a factor of 10^2554.

110-120 trillion years: All remaining stars in the universe exhaust their fuel (red dwarfs, the longest-lived stars, can survive up to 20 trillion years). Stellar mass remnants (white dwarfs, black holes, neutron stars, and brown dwarfs) are all that remain. Sometimes collisions between brown dwarfs create new red dwarfs, but this rarely happens. Now, 100 stars (white dwarfs) are all that's left in the former Milky Way galaxy. Collisions between stellar remnants cause the occasional supernova.

1 quadrillion years: Stellar close encounters detach all planets in star systems, including ours, from their orbits. The Sun, which has become a black dwarf, cools to 5° Kelvin (-268.15°C, -40.67°F).

10-100 quintillion (10^19-10^20) years: 90-99% of brown dwarfs and stellar remnants, including the Sun, are ejected from galaxies. This occurs because when two objects pass close enough, they exchange orbital energy. Lower-mass objects gain energy while high-mass objects lose energy. The process repeats until lower-mass objects gain enough energy to be ejected from their galaxy.

100 quintillion (10^20) years: Earth (assuming it still exists and is present in what remains of the solar system) collides with the Sun due to the decay of its orbit via gravitational radiation.

100 sextillion (10^23) years: Most stellar remnants and other objects are ejected from the remains of their galactic cluster.

1 nonillion (10^30) years: Most or all of the remaining 1-10% of stellar remnants not ejected from their galaxy fall into the supermassive black holes at their centers. By this point, binary stars have fallen into each other, and planets have fallen into their stars via gravitational radiation. Solitary objects (stellar remnants, brown dwarfs, ejected planetary mass objects, and black holes) still exist.

2 undecillion ( 2 x 10^36) years: All nucleons in the observable universe decay, assuming the proton half-life takes its smallest value, 8.2 x 10^33 years.

1-100 undecillion (10^36-100 x 10^36) years: All remaining planets and stellar mass objects, including the Sun, disintegrate if proton decay is possible.

30 trecadillion (3 x 10^43) years: All nucleons in the observable universe decay if the proton half-life takes its largest value of 10^41 years. This assumes that the Big Bang was inflationary and that protons can decay. If proton decay is possible, the Black Hole Era (black holes are all that remain in the universe) begins.

314 quindecillion (3.14 x 10^50) years: Micro black holes of one Earth mass or less decay via Hawking radiation into subatomic particles.

100 vigintillion (10^65) years: Assuming protons don't decay, all rigid objects from rocks to planets rearrange their atoms via quantum tunneling. On this timescale, any discrete body of matter behaves like a liquid and becomes spherical due to gravity and diffusion.

11.6 unvigintillion (1.16 x 10^67) years: Black holes of one solar mass ( the mass of the Sun) or less decay via Hawking radiation.

15.4-141 novemvigintillion (1.54 x 10^91-1.41 x 10^91) years: The supermassive black hole at the center of the Milkomeda galaxy vanishes via Hawking radiation, assuming it doesn't consume additional matter or merge with other black holes (it likely will when the Milky Way and Andromeda galaxies collide and the gravitational collapse of the other Local Group of galaxies). This supermassive black hole is likely the last thing from the Local Group to disappear.

10^106-2.1 x 10^109 years: The ultra-massive black holes of 100 trillion solar masses (formed during the gravitational collapse of super clusters) decay via Hawking radiation. This marks the end of the Black Hole Era. From here on out, protons decay and the universe enters the Dark Era, where all physical objects in the universe have decayed into subatomic particles, gradually winding down to their final energy state in the heat death of the universe.

10^161 years: The collapse of a false vacuum 95% confidence interval is 10^65 -10^1383 years, partly due to the uncertainty of the top quark's mass. As space is a false vacuum, it now collapses.

10^200 years: Highest estimate until all nucleons in the observable universe decay. If they don't decay from the above processes but through one of the many mechanisms in modern particle physics (higher-order baryon non-conservation processes, virtual black holes, sphalerons, etc.) on time scales of 10^46-10^200 years.

10^1100-32000 years: Black dwarfs of 1.2 solar masses or more undergo supernovae due to slow silicon-nickel-iron fusion, as the declining electron fraction lowers their Chandrasekhar limit (assuming protons don't decay).

10^1500 years: Assuming protons don't decay, all bionic matter in stellar mass objects has fused (via muon-catalyzed fusion to form iron-56) or decayed from a higher mass element into iron-56, making iron stars.

10^10^26 years: Low estimate until all iron stars collapse via quantum tunneling into black holes (assuming no proton decay, virtual black holes, and that the Planck Scale black holes can exist). On this time scale, even ultra-stable stars have been destroyed this way. At the low end of this timescale, iron stars directly decay into black holes. This decay method is more favorable than decaying into a neutron star (which has a time scale of 10^10^76 years) and then into a black hole. The subsequent evaporation of each black hole into subatomic particles lasts 10^100 years, and the subsequent shift to the Dark Era is instantaneous.

10^10^50 years: A Boltzmann's brain appears in the vacuum via a spontaneous entropy decrease.

10^10^76 years: High estimate until all iron stars collapse via quantum tunneling into neutron stars and black holes (assuming no proton decay, virtual black holes, and that black holes below the Chandrasekhar mass can't directly form. On this timescale, neutron stars above the Chandrasekhar mass rapidly collapse into black holes and instantly evaporate. This is also the highest possible estimate for the Black Hole Era and the subsequent Dark Era. By now, the whole universe is almost certainly a pure vacuum with everything having decayed into subatomic particles, winding down until they reach their final energy state (assuming that hasn't already happened).

10^10^120 years: Highest estimate until the universe reaches its final energy state and the heat death of the universe occurs.

10^10^10^56 years: Quantum tunneling in any isolated patch of the universe may generate new inflationary events, resulting in a new Big Bang giving rise to new universes.

Wow. If you read that entire timeline you deserve a medal. If there's any mistakes in it, please let me know. Now on to some additional information/space facts that may be relevant to the story later.

Currently, 8000 man-made satellites orbit Earth. Only 3000 of them are still functional, and only 1000 are for scientific purposes. The International Space Station (ISS) and space trash also orbit Earth.

Three spacecraft have been sent to orbit Mercury, but none of them remain today. The MESSENGER probe was intentionally crashed into Mercury at the end of its mission.

46 missions have been launched to Venus, but only one satellite is still in orbit. 15 Probes have landed on Venus, 14 of which were sent by the USSR and 1, the Pioneer Venus Multiprobe, by the United States. None remain operational due to the planet's hellish conditions.

18 space missions have been launched to Mars, and seven satellites are still active in its orbit. 16 probes have landed on Mars, 3 from the USSR, 10 from the USA, 2 from the UK, 2 from the Russian Federation, and 1 from China. Only three of these are still operational: the Curiosity and Perseverance rovers from the USA and the Chinese rover.

Aside from the objects previously mentioned, there are 19 other space probes currently exploring space all of which originate from the United States. 5 of those 19 probes have even left the solar system and are exploring space further.

4 spacecraft have visited Saturn, 9 Jupiter, 1 Uranus, and 1 Neptune. No spacecraft currently remains in any of the gas giants orbits.

Almost all stars are formed in stellar nurseries with one or more sister stars. More than half of all existing stars are in binary (two-star) systems, and systems can have up to six stars. Most single-star systems were once binary, but the stars gravitationally separated over millions of years or by a stellar encounter.

Scientists believe the Sun was formed with a twin star named Nemesis and possibly even more siblings. They have yet to locate it and probably never will, but it could be as far away as the other side of the galaxy. Nemesis is believed to be a red or brown dwarf star.

As a rule of thumb, the bigger the star in its main sequence, the shorter its main sequence. So, the smaller the star, the longer it lives. The Sun, as an average-sized star, has an average 10-billion-year main sequence. We are currently slightly less than halfway through that.

The Oort Cloud is the approximate boundary of the solar system. Its inner boundary is 2000 AU or 0.03 light-years away, and its outer boundary is 200,000 AU or 3.2 light-years away. That's nearly a quarter of the way between the Sun and its nearest neighboring star, Alpha/Proxima Centauri. The Sun's gravity is what keeps the Oort Cloud in place, meaning the Sun's gravity is strong enough to decide the orbits and behavior of objects for over three light years.

Solar winds are caused by the Sun's magnetic field carrying bits of charged plasma. The plasma is then expelled from the Sun's corona or outer atmosphere. This is caused by the plasma being heated to the point that the Sun's gravity can't contain it. This plasma expulsion makes solar winds dangerous because it can strip away a planet's atmosphere and water without a sufficient magnetic field.

Solar flares are created when the Sun's magnetic field gets knotted, usually by sunspots. When the field realigns, it releases energy. This process is called magnetic reconnection because it breaks apart existing magnetic fields to create new ones. The released energy accelerates charged particles in the Sun's plasma, causing it and electromagnetic radiation across the entire spectrum to be expelled. Coronal mass ejections are the most extreme solar flares, causing billions of tons of plasma, millions of degrees Fahrenheit to be launched from the Sun.

The Sun's magnetic field, dubbed the heliosphere, extends about 8 billion miles (18.5 billion km or 123 AU). The place where the heliosphere stops is called the heliopause. For reference, Neptune is 30 AU from the Sun. The heliosphere is strong enough to shield everything within it, including Earth, from the deadly effects of cosmic radiation.

The Sun's magnetic field flips at the peak of each solar cycle (about every 11 Earth years) as the Sun's inner magnetic dynamo reorganizes itself. This makes the Sun's northern and southern poles switch places. Whenever this occurs, the entire solar system feels the effect, but the Earth's magnetic field ensures that humanity is not affected.

The Kuiper belt is the solar system's second asteroid/other object barrier out of three (the first being the asteroid belt and the third being the Oort Cloud). It is located from slightly past 30-50 AU from the Sun, or 2.8- 4.6 billion miles.

On November 4th, 2023, Scott Shepherd and his colleagues discovered the 28th moon of Uranus, S/2023U1. The moon takes 680 days to orbit Uranus and is 5 mi/8 km in size.

In March 2025, astronomers confirmed the existence of 128 new moons orbiting Saturn, bringing the total to 274 Saturnian moons.

Chapter Text

Character Descriptions

(ages as of Sickness)

Name: Sol
Spectral class: G2
Radius: 350,000 km or 217,500 mi (today’s radius is double that at 700,000 km or 435,000 mi)
Age: 6.5 Earth years
Life sequence: Main sequence
Status: Active
Likes: Solaris, Nemesis, stories, exploring, physical affection, and playing.
Dislikes: Loud noises, silence, being ignored or yelled at, being alone, and reminders that Solaris is dying.
Personality: Curious and trusting. Sol is young and trusts others too easily. Because of this, they are easily manipulated, and they are too young to know when someone is taking advantage of them. Sol is an excellent problem solver and very good at retaining information. They are also very emotionally intelligent and adept at comforting others. They only have to learn something or make a mistake once to understand the lesson. They’re also a rule follower. Sol listens to everything Solaris tells them and follows their rules and instructions to the letter.

Name: Nemesis
Spectral class: M5
Radius: 0.27 of modern-day Sol’s radius or 94,500 km or 117,450 mi
Age: 2 Earth weeks
Life sequence: Main sequence
Status: Active
Likes: Sol, training, patrolling, exploring, and learning new things.
Dislikes: Solaris, their size, being told what to do, excess physical affection, loud noises, and wasting time and energy.
Personality: Cold and reserved. Nemesis is naturally suspicious of everyone except Sol. They are more solitary and value their alone time. They enjoy gathering information they think could be useful, and they will never back down from a fight. Nemesis wants to be strong enough to protect themselves and Sol from anything that would dare to disrupt their peace. They have no affection for Solaris, as Nemesis believes it's their fault Sol got hurt during their ignition.

Name: Solaris
Spectral Class: F8
Radius: 60.5 times modern-day Sol’s or 21,175,000 km or 26,317,500 mi
Age: 4.5 billion Earth years
Life sequence: Red Giant, approaching supernova
Status: Active
Likes: Sol, telling stories and jokes, teaching younger stars, physical affection, and their system.
Dislikes: Nemesis, Bellona, being told what to do, being alone, reminders that their system is gone, and when Sol wanders off.
Personality: Overprotective and slightly manic. Solaris has a mild case of stellar isolation from the loss of their siblings and is desperate for any sort of positive interaction with other stars. Sol was the one to provide that contact, and Solaris is determined to protect them from everything. They will gladly eviscerate anything that threatens Sol and Nemesis’ safety, despite not being as fond of the other red star. They dislike the smaller star’s attitude and rebelliousness, but Solaris will still protect and guide the younger star due to their youth and inexperience.

Name: Bellona
Spectral class: 08
Radius: 22 times modern-day Sol’s or 7,700,000 km or 9,570,000 mi
Age: 10.5 million Earth years
Life sequence: Main sequence approaching red supergiant
Status: Active
Likes: Tormenting smaller stars and planets, spying on other star systems, and hunting.
Dislikes: Smaller stars and planets, being told what to do, their short lifespan, and having no one to torment or consume.
Personality: Sadistic and iron-fisted. Bellona is a rare case as they were born alone and never gained any siblings. No one ever taught them empathy or restraint, so they take what they want when they want it, regardless of anything else. They get a power trip from torturing smaller celestial beings, and it makes them feel superior. Bellona has a deep hatred for smaller stars because of their longer lifespans and enjoys hunting down extra fuel sources and consuming them. They do not tolerate disrespect.

Name: Proxima Centauri
Spectral class: M5.5
Radius: 0.1542 of modern-day Sol’s or 53,970 km or 67,077 mi
Age: 0.85 billion Earth years
Life sequence: Main sequence
Status: Active
Likes: Rigil, Toliman, their planets, keeping their system safe.
Dislikes: Their siblings bullying their planets, their size, and being forced to interact with outsiders of their system.
Personality: Compassionate and protective. Proxima adores their siblings and loves their planets as one would love a distant relative or a family pet. They don’t like it when their siblings, especially Rigil, are mean to others and just want everyone to get along. Proxima keeps their system isolated to ensure it and their territory remain secure. They want the best for their system and heavily dislike being involved with the rest of the galaxy’s drama. Proxima is the eldest of the Centauri siblings.

Name: Rigil Kentaurus
Spectral class: G2
Radius: 1.2234 times modern-day Sol’s or 428,190 km or 532,179 mi
Age: 0.85 billion Earth years
Life sequence: Main sequence
Status: Active
Likes: Toliman, Proxima, teasing their planets, and gossiping with their siblings.
Dislikes: Proxima telling them what to do and how to treat others, their planets, and outsiders.
Personality: Self-centered and unsympathetic. Rigil doesn’t hate their planets but finds caring for them bothersome and a waste of time. They think that planets are lower beings and never wanted them in the first place, but they let Proxima get them because it made them happy. They care about their siblings but cover it up with a condescending attitude. Rigil likes their system and doesn’t want their life to be disrupted by outsiders. They are the middle child of the Centauri siblings.

Name: Toliman
Spectral class: K1
Radius: 0.8632 of modern-day Sol’s or 302,120 km or 375,492 mi
Age: 0.85 billion Earth years
Life Sequence: Main sequence
Status: Active
Likes: Rigil, Proxima, making their siblings proud, being complimented, and attention.
Dislikes: Being yelled at and ignored, making their siblings sad, and having their routine disrupted.
Personality: Self-conscious and attention-seeking. Toliman wants their siblings to be proud of them, especially Rigil. They try to imitate their larger sibling to keep their favor and don’t mind being rude to those they deem lower than them. They also find their planets annoying and would rather hang out with their siblings than deal with keeping them safe. Toliman also wants to keep their system isolated as they don’t like drama, but wouldn’t mind meeting a new star once in a while. They are the youngest of the Centaur siblings.

Name: Barnard
Spectral class: M4
Radius: 0.2 of modern-day Sol’s or 70,000 km or 87,000 mi
Age: 5.56 billion years
Life sequence: Main sequence
Status: Dormant
Likes: Sleeping, being left alone, and feeling superior.
Dislikes: Their size, being woken up, feeling powerless, being involved with others, and reminders that their sibling is gone.
Personality: Grumpy and uncaring. Barnard is fairly old and set in their ways. They spent most of their time before dormancy, but after the loss of their sibling, sleeping. Barnard was the youngest in their system, and their sibling went supernova a little under a billion years ago. Since the loss, Barnard became grumpy and lashed out at their planets when they tried to talk to them. They have always felt neutral towards planets, regarding them as lower beings but not hating them either.

Lore and Headcanons

Stars are born with a connection to the cosmos. From the moment they ignite, they have intimate knowledge of the universe’s inner workings. They are guardians, protectors, custodians, and executioners all in one. They are responsible for keeping the balance.

Stars are considered to be the universe’s apex predators. Black holes rarely form and are so far apart that they are not considered part of the galaxy’s natural order, leaving stars as the dominant celestial beings. Black holes’ gravity also chains them to their spots, as it's too strong for even the black holes themselves to move from their position.

Stars rarely leave their orbits. Their gravity is what keeps their system in place, and they’re so massive that even the smallest star’s movements are enough to cause ripples in the fabric of space-time. Because of the risk moving poses to their systems, they rarely ever move at all, much less leave their orbit.

Because star systems are extremely far apart from one another, all stars can communicate telepathically to some extent. It takes a great deal of energy and concentration, but they can still contact each other, even if they’re on the other side of the galaxy, if they’re advanced enough. Their telepathy is called ‘mental communication’ and strengthens with frequent use. As a general rule, the closer the stars, the easier communication will be.

Stars organize themselves along a strict hierarchy based on mass; all other factors, such as size, temperature, luminosity, and age, are secondary. The more massive the star, the stronger its gravitational pull, and thus the stronger the star. However, mass is unrelated to a star’s mental communication and energy manipulation abilities, though bigger stars tend to have more finesse.

Whenever stars are forced to interact with others outside their systems, they have very strict social rules to prevent themselves from snapping and killing each other. There are different social rules for different situations, and stars interacting with each other have different rules than stars interacting with planets or anyone else. Violating these unspoken social rules normally results in fights or battles for dominance. 

Stars can’t smell. Particles burn up in their corona before reaching them, so there’s nothing to smell. To make up for this and deal with the long distance between them and their orbital partners, stars have exceptionally sharp vision and hearing. They can see at least to the ends of their magnetic fields and hear half that distance, though most can perceive things even farther away. For reference, this means Sol will be able to see a little past Neptune and hear a little past Uranus at minimum.

Stars and black holes can’t use mirrors. For stars, because their entire body produces light, all the mirror reflects is a solid wall of light.  For black holes, because they don’t reflect light and absorb it instead, all they see in a mirror is a void of blackness. Because of this, stars (and black holes) often go their entire lives without knowing what they look like.

Solar flaring is painful for stars. Because solar flares are caused by energy released from tangles in their magnetic field, they feel roughly the same as an earthquake to a planet (in my AU, earthquakes are pretty painful for planets). The same goes for solar storms and hurricanes, which are the planetary equivalent of large-scale natural disasters. Red dwarfs flare more often than other stars, and they’re usually more violent and aggressive due to the pain.

Because flaring is painful, stars spend a lot of time combing through their magnetic fields to identify and fix any tangles. They send their essence along their magnetic fields, which will alert them to most discrepancies, and the star will detangle it. If they catch the problem early enough, they can avoid flaring and save themselves the trouble of fixing the field later.

Stars are essentially cosmic regulators. They are responsible for keeping the universe’s energy balanced and flowing properly. All celestial beings absorb cosmic energy to sustain themselves and grant them sentience, but stars manage it. Raw cosmic energy is too unstable to be absorbed by planets, moons, etc. So, stars automatically absorb it and remit it as something more regulated and able to be used by other celestial beings in their vicinity. This process is automatic and often unnoticed by the stars themselves.

Stars (like humans) are social beings. As they are almost always born with sibling(s), they have an intense hatred for being alone for extended periods. Prolonged periods in isolation can cause a star’s mental state to deteriorate and eventually lead to going somewhat insane. Symptoms of prolonged isolation include: hallucinations, mood swings, talking to themselves, and increased aggression and need for control. Stars have dubbed the condition ‘stellar isolation.’

In extreme cases of stellar isolation, the star enters a dormant state. In dormancy, a star will become trapped in their memories or a vivid illusion in an attempt to preserve what remains of their sanity. To an outside observer, a dormant star appears comatose. They don’t move and are curled up into a tight ball, reminiscent of their real-life spherical forms. Their body ceases normal function, but brain/core activity continues. This condition, if not reversed, can last for the rest of the star’s life.

Stellar isolation is treatable in early stages. Until a star enters their dormant hallucinogenic state, gradual interaction with other stars can slowly reverse the effects. However, the more advanced their condition, the harder it is to treat. Once a star enters dormancy, it is almost impossible to reverse. The star’s mind actively resists treatment in an attempt to remain in the illusion.

To bring a star out of dormancy, another stat must use their telepathic abilities to forcefully enter the illusory world and convince the dormant star to return to the waking world, and that what they’re experiencing is a lie and needs to be left behind. Most stars that have reached this point reject help and remain dormant for the rest of their lives.

Because planets, moons, etc., rely on their star to provide them with cosmic energy or pieces of their essence to sustain them, becoming a rogue object without a star to care for them is a death sentence. Going too far from their star or being ejected from their system means losing access to their only source of usable cosmic energy. Once they lose access, they’ll slowly go mad before losing their consciousness entirely. Created planets can survive for a little longer because of the essence they were made with, but they’ll eventually succumb to the same fate if separated from their star for too long.

Stars are very territorial and will defend their allotted space from invaders, whether it’s intruding planets, wandering stars, or anything else. They hardly ever leave the area they’re born in and make the region their own and their siblings’ territory, and set up their system there. It’s suicide for stars to invade another’s territory, especially if they’re more powerful, as instinct will demand they drive out the intruder. Sol and Nemesis’ territory is around 6.4 light-years wide and will one day become the solar system.

Stars, unlike planets, have very long memories. As long as the star is still using nuclear fusion to sustain themselves (main sequence and giant phase), they’re constantly making new mental connections. This means they rarely forget anything and have near-flawless memory recall, once they ignite, but once they no longer perform nuclear fusion (white dwarfs), their memory begins to deteriorate. However, planets don’t fuse elements, leading to flawed memories (much like a human memory) as seen in the show.

All stars grow fangs and claws around their 1^st cycle (11^th Earth year). These attributes are used for hunting, battling for dominance against other stars, and chasing out or killing intruders in their territory. Once they grow these features, their guardian or siblings, if one is older and a guardian isn’t available, will teach them to use them to defend themselves and attack if necessary.

Most stars grow up fighting. They’ll instinctively practice hunting and other skills by mock fighting each other like Earth lion/polar bear cubs. This play-fighting includes biting, scratching, and other forms of potential harm. Most young stars find these fights enjoyable and enjoy bonding with their siblings this way. This instinctive mock fighting continues until they’re old enough to hunt or fight for real.

Stars determine their family units through a process known as “bonding,” which is normally only done between stellar siblings and occasionally a guardian star and their charges. Bonded stars have a mental tether connecting them, ensuring they can never be fully separated unless the bond is snapped. Think of the tether as a cord connecting the minds and essences of two stars.

Bonded stars can read each other better and have access to their partner’s innermost thoughts and essence. Unlike normal mental communication tethers, bonding tethers can be used to share essence between stars and cannot be accessed by stars outside the bond under any circumstances. Bonding is a permanent process and a sign of utmost trust and affection between stars. That’s why it is only done between stars that see themselves as family. 

Whenever a stellar nursery forms, an adult star is assigned to guard it and nurture the young stars once they’re born. Almost immediately after settling around the developing nursery, the older star’s instincts kick into overdrive. They don’t sleep. They don’t hunt. They just immediately get attached to the unborn stars and guard them with their life.

The adult stars, upon receiving their nursery, instinctively isolate it, carving out a small corner of the void to settle it in, much like predators/birds of prey building dens/nests in remote places to help ensure the survival of their young.

This is also done because stars that don’t have a territory (such as ones kicked out of their system or that lost a challenge) will look to steal someone else's, and challenge nursery guardians to take their territory. If they win, normally, the challenger will kill the young or developing stars.

Adult stars guard their assigned nurseries jealously, much like birds guard their nests. The reason for this is that fewer stars are born every generation, as the necessary material for stellar development spreads out across the universe. Ensuring the survival of developing stars is vital for their race, so a star’s parental instincts are the strongest ones they have—and the hardest to suppress.

The stars that are assigned to a nursery and subsequently obsessed with protecting and guarding it are referred to as ‘nesting’, and other stars normally take great care to avoid them and their nurseries, as the guardian stars will instinctively drive them away to protect their charges.

Once the developing stars ignite, the nursery guardian almost immediately latches onto the young ones, devoting all their time to watching over them and ensuring they stay healthy. Their instincts just go ‘baby—is defenseless, tiny, must protect' to the point where the adult’s behavior seems extreme.

The adult almost instantly gets possessive over the infant stars, hissing at anything in the vicinity even remotely threatening, coddling them, and purring when the young ones demand attention from their guardian. If an opportunity to hunt arises, such as an unfortunate planet trespassing into the nursery by accident, the adult will feed the younger ones before themselves.

Because stars don’t grow their fangs and claws until their first solar cycle (about 11 Earth years), older stars are utterly devoted to the younger ones because they’re essentially defenseless. They can’t hunt. Can’t fight—driving the adult’s instinct to protect them from literally everything.

An adult star’s instinctive care for anyone who isn’t a star themselves seems obsessive, because they simply won’t allow them to do anything without supervision, especially if they’re young and haven’t developed fighting skills yet. They won’t allow them out of the nursery, won’t let them interact with anyone outside of themselves and their siblings, out of fear of them getting hurt—and that fear is valid. Other stars not bonded to a nursery can be violent toward younger or weaker stars.

If a young or infant star doesn’t latch onto their guardian in turn, as the adult is their source of protection and essential for their survival, it usually means they’re either unwell and lacking the energy to bond with them—or they feel neglected, like they aren’t being obsessed over enough and feel unloved.

In both cases, signs of distress and disinterest in bonding (unhappiness with being fussed over) activate warning bells in the adult star’s mind, and their protective instincts ramp up even more, because their baby is either sick or feeling neglected—and their mind screams at them to fix the issue.

If their charges are hurt or upset, the nursery guardian gets distressed, scooping up the younger ones and trying to heal them, and hiding the young ones away from the universe so nothing can ever hurt them again. Needless to say, whatever or whoever hurt them is very, very dead.

Once the younger stars grow their fangs and claws and learn to defend themselves a little, the intensity of an adult star’s protective instincts starts to die down to normal levels. They still fuss over the child and will fight anything that threatens them, but the obsessive nature starts to taper off until they’re old enough to set up their own systems.

Once a star runs out of helium and enters their giant phase, they will lose the capacity for rational thought. The instinct to hunt and feed on a fuel source will overwhelm their sense of reasoning, and they become feral creatures, acting solely on survival instincts. This happens to all stars regardless of size, but the timing is affected by star size.

Low-class stars, because of their long lifespans, only lose the capacity for thought at the beginning and end of their giant phases. Only for the first and last few million years of the giant phase, they behave in such a way. High-class stars are affected similarly due to shorter lifespans, going feral at the beginning and end of their giant phase, except that the feral periods are longer. Intermediate-class stars have it the worst. They lose their ability to think rationally during the ENTIRE giant phase. They are reduced to that hunger-driven state the entire time and only regain their ability to think once they become white dwarves.

Stars usually isolate themselves from their siblings once they approach their giant phase to stop themselves from hurting them in their instinct-driven state. This is considered the only acceptable time for a star to isolate themselves and leave their territory, because they would seriously hurt those around them and attempt to consume them.

Stars do not eject or relocate their planets once they approach their giant phase. It’s considered a violation of the natural order of things as planets are born or created from stars, and their destruction will allow a new system to be created from the ashes. The general mentality is “We gave them life and we will take it away.”

Planets are viewed as their stars’ possessions. To make this clear, stars usually mark their planets somehow, sometimes with a piece of jewelry or by forcefully carving their symbols into the planet’s surface. Methods for marking vary across systems, but carving symbols is the most common because jewelry can be removed.

Stars are extremely possessive creatures. They’re possessive of younger stars they’re trusted to guard, planets, siblings, and territory. It's deeply ingrained into them to behave like that and isolate themselves, as stars are often aggressive to anyone who isn’t a part of their system. For example, Solaris is extremely possessive and protective of Sol and doesn’t want them interacting with anyone but them and Nemesis.

Whenever stars become agitated or stressed, they burn their fuel at a faster rate. If their emotions are particularly intense for a long enough period, or if they are frequently stressed, it can shorten their main sequence. As a result, most stars attempt to stay calm and avoid stressful situations.

Stars have their own language separate from planets, moons, etc. Star language is a mix of telepathy, flashing and dimming their surface, and verbal sounds. Talking doesn’t fully describe things enough for stars, so star language includes sharing memories, emotions, and intentions across mental pathways for a clearer picture and flashing their surface to indicate strong feelings in addition to words. They also hiss and growl to ward off threats and intimate rivals.

The oldest star is the default leader of their system, but if a younger sibling is unsatisfied, they can challenge their older sibling for the position as the dominant star. As the bigger stars are usually born first, these challenges are rare and usually fail. The losing star has to back down and agree to listen to the winner or risk being ejected from the system.

Stars that are born alone and without guardians are usually stunted in mental development. Developing stellar isolation at a young age often results in the star going insane or losing the ability to think rationally, reducing them to a feral state. If this is caught early enough, the star can be treated and the damage repaired, though there will always be a mental scar.

Unlike other celestial beings, Stars don’t need to sleep. Their nuclear fusion provides them a near-limitless supply of energy, but it’s still beneficial for stars to sleep. Sleeping in humans helps our brains repair our bodies, replenish our energy, reorganize our memories, etc., and it does the same for stars. Sleeping also helps prolong the star’s lifespan as they fuse more slowly while they’re asleep. Stars get tired after long periods of staying awake, but if they try hard enough, they can keep themselves awake. However, the longer a star stays awake, the longer the resulting sleep will be. So, a star that has stayed awake for a century will just take a short nap, but a star that hasn’t slept for billions of years might sleep for thousands of years. Planets, moons, etc., on the other hand, have to sleep. Much like humans, their bodies will eventually force them to sleep.

Stars and planets, moons, etc. have a special coating on their eyes to allow them to filter out excess light. This coating acts kind of like sunglasses and allows stars to look at each other and planets and moons to glance at a star without going blind. This coating is thickest in stars and thinnest in moons, so planets can’t stare at a star for too long without going blind, but they can for short periods. Moons can only look at a star for a few minutes at a time without risking permanent damage. The coating makes the white of the eye black, and the iris and pupil look like they would in a human. This coating can also be burned away or damaged in explosions or fights.

For stars, how fast they age is determined by their lifespan, with larger stars aging faster than smaller ones. So, a 3-billion-year-old M-class star will be mentally younger than a 3-billion-year-old K-class star. All stars and planets are born at the mental equitant of 5 years old, and age from there. Most stars age faster in their first few million years of life, so they may be the mental equivalent of 10 at three million but be only mentally 20 at 5 billion. However, all celestial beings will never mentally age past 60.

Planets age faster than stars, becoming mentally 20 by the time they reach 20 million, but once they reach a few billion years old, their aging slows drastically. All planets age at the same rate, as the lifespan of a planet is only limited by the lifespan of their star.

Planets and moons can be born in two ways: they can be created or formed naturally. Most stars opt to let most, if not all, of their planets form naturally, as almost all stars have at least three planets form, and they usually don’t want too many. Some stars create all their planets, and some have a mixed planetary system.

There are clear differences between planets that were created and those that are formed naturally. Created planets carry a piece of their stars’ essence within them, making them stronger, faster, and more durable than naturally formed planets. Created planets and moons can also be made with unique features for practical or aesthetic purposes, such as wings, scales, horns, etc. When creating a planet, stars have the option to make personalities or remove the capacity for free will. Naturally formed planets tend to be smaller and weaker, lacking any extra features, but they will always have unique personalities and be independent of their stars’ essence.

Stars and planets experience gravity very differently. Stars (unless they’re near a black hole) float rather than walk when they move because there are no other large sources of gravity (aside from their siblings’, but that’s not usually enough) to anchor onto. Planets latch onto their star’s gravity and closely orbit around them, creating a sort of 'floor' so they walk and run across the system instead of floating. In my AU, this is one reason star systems are laid out like disks, as the bottom of the disk is the makeshift floor for planets to walk around on.  A moon’s 'floor' is likewise generated by their planet.

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Before you panic, this story is not discontinued, nor is it on hiatus. I know "Announcements" chapters usually mean it's abandoned, but that's not the case here.

We've now reached the end of prewritten chapters, so updates are sadly going to be farther apart now. This work has also hit 30,000 words! 🥳 Sorry for the lack of updates….. I’ve had no ideas to continue this, so I’m writing a handful of one shots! I’ll post them once I’ve got a couple more.

I'd greatly appreciate it if any readers gave me feedback on this story, be it spelling or punctuation errors (if that's the case, I'll fix them), writing tips and suggestions, or something else. I want this to be something you enjoy reading, and I value your input as my audience!

On another note, I'm planning on writing a sequel to this. This book will cover Sol's backstory, and the sequel will cover the formation of the planets, how Sol raises them, and everything else until the end of the “The First Planets” episodes. If that ever gets finished, I'll probably write a third book covering the main Solarballs canon. I have so many ideas for those two books, but I have to get this one done first. Thanks for sticking with me so far!

Finally, I'm thinking of writing a Solarballs one-shot book on scenes I really want to write, but don't work with the layout I have planned for this story. I'll accept requests for one-shots and credit you with your ideas. Do you guys think I should write it? I really want to, but I don't want to publish and write something you lovely people won't read. Let me know your thoughts and requests in the comments, please!

P.S. Ok, this is kinda stupid, but hear me out. If my characters were songs, which ones would they be? I'm thinking "You Should See Me In a Crown" by Billie Eilish and
"Twisted" By MISSIO for Bellona. Maybe "Enemy" by Imagine Dragons and "Control" by Halsey for Nemesis, but I'm not sure. Solaris gives me "Demons" by Imagine Dragons vibes, but again, doesn't feel quite right... The only picks I'm really happy with are Bellona's. I have no freaking clue on what songs fit Sol ("Sunshine" by Onre Republic? "Star Trails" by Derivakat?) or the Centauri siblings.

P. P.S. Do you readers think I should post some of my other stories? They're for various other fandoms (Percy Jackson, Sonic, and Countryhumans, respectively) and very cringeworthy since I wrote them when I was like 10. I mean SUPER cringe..... But they're still semi-fun to read, even if they're not up to the quality of content of this work. What do you think, readers?

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Their first sensation was heat. The kind of heat that can scorch star systems and burn entire planets to cinders. Plasma burning with a star’s worth of energy circled their core. They found the sensation soothing. Fiery plasma and cosmic energy flowed through them, whispering the secrets of the galaxy in their ears and painting stunning patterns on the back of their eyelids. Lesser beings would have found it terrifying, but they thought it was beautiful. It was their life force, their very essence.

The newly born star opened their eyes and took in the majesty of space. A Stellar Nursery surrounded them, reflecting their brilliance in a plethora of colors. Awestruck, they rose from their curled-up position and stretched their limbs for the first time. The very fabric of spacetime rippled as they moved. Instinctively, they looked for others like them. They knew deep in their core that stars were not born alone. Yet as they looked across the vast clouds of gas and dust they were born from, there were no other light sources. The dark void of space was all they could see aside from their nursery.

A whine built up in their throat as they realized they were alone. Their surface flared in the instinctual call for other stars, but no responding flashes greeted them. There was no sibling, no elder star to show them the way. The young star was isolated from the rest of the universe with only the clouds of their nursery for company. Or so they believed.

A booming laugh startled them from their depressive thoughts. The sound grated on their sensitive ears, and they could tell whoever made it was far older than they were and therefore dangerous. Their surface instinctively brightened in an intimidation display as they searched for the voice’s origin. The laughter ceased as a massive hand waved away the cloud of dust in front of them. The young star’s body trembled in barely concealed nervousness even as they bit back a feral hiss.
Floating in front of them was a massive star, hundreds, maybe thousands, of times their size. The bigger star’s light was dull, yet their smile was blinding.

The smaller star studied the bigger one for a moment. They did not look like a guardian star. Their eyes held a glimmer of barely contained insanity, and the young star immediately designated them as a possible threat. The elder star’s plasma swirled sluggishly and was a dull crimson compared to their own brilliant white. They didn’t look well, maybe they were tired? Still, the tremble didn’t leave them as they considered the size difference. The younger star was all too aware of how small they must look. They were easy prey to such a large star.

They hesitantly doused their flares and struggled to hover upright. It was difficult for them to manipulate their gravity to maneuver themselves, but they managed. The child star forced their fear of the other (were they the other star in this system? No, they were too old for that) aside and raised a hand in greeting. They refused to show fear. Fear meant weakness. As the eldest star in their system, it was their duty to protect their future siblings as they formed.

“Hello,” they called. Despite their best efforts, their voice trembled. Forcing it steady, they tried again. “What’s your name? Why are you here?” The red star laughed again, and they felt the tremors from it ripple through space. Not to be deterred, they steadied themselves and stared stone-faced at the bigger star. Their mind raced with the possibility that they were hostile. Diplomacy was their best bet if they wanted to live. There was no way they could win a fight against the other but may the universe damn them if they didn’t protect their future siblings. The red star’s voice interrupted their musings.

“I forgot how entertaining it is to watch the birth of a star!” The younger star looked at the elder one with confusion. Of all the things they expected them to say, that wasn’t one of them. “What’s so funny?” “Your reaction,” they wheezed as they fought to catch their breath. “Most stars are timid and docile upon igniting. But you were ready to fight almost immediately!” The smaller star didn’t get a chance to reply before they barreled on. “My name is Solaris. I was assigned to watch over this place until the new stars were born and the star system was stable.”

The smaller star considered this. Perhaps they had been wrong in their initial assessment, and Solaris was indeed their guardian star. Their words made sense, and they wouldn’t mind the company. They also wouldn’t mind an older star showing them how the universe worked. Yet they remained wary of the bigger star, unwilling to disregard their earlier observations. “Why you? No offense, but you don’t seem entirely stable or suited to work with newborn stars.”

The other star gave them a smile far too wide to be comfortable displaying sharpened teeth. “The higher-ranked stars wanted me to do this after my system fell apart. Spend long enough in isolation, and something in your mind snaps. They probably thought guiding younger stars and teaching them the essentials would help heal my mind.” The nameless star felt their core clench in sympathy. They floated forward until they could touch Solaris, all thoughts of potential aggression forgotten.

“I’m sorry.” Hesitantly, they did their best to hug the older star’s leg. Solaris stiffened for a moment before picking them up. The smaller star held back a shriek as they were cuddled into Solaris’s chest. It took them a moment to realize they were being shown affection and not attacked. After calming themselves down, they settled comfortably into the cuddle, an almost unnatural contentment overtaking them.

The other's plasma was cooler than their own but still pleasantly warm against their surface. The extra heat relaxed them, and they stifled a yawn. “Thank you, little one,” Solaris mumbled. The elder star’s voice was rich with an emotion they didn’t quite understand. “It’s been so long since someone was kind to me like that.”
The bigger star adjusted their grip until the smaller was settled comfortably into their hand and raised to their eye level. “You need a name. Do you want me to name you, or do you want to pick one out for yourself?”

The nameless star thought for a moment. “There are no other stars formed here yet. That makes me the firstborn of this developing system.” They looked at Solaris. “As the senior star and temporary guardian of this system, it is only right that you name me.” They didn’t mention the empathy they felt for Solaris. While they were young and woefully inexperienced, they imagined that it must be terrible to lose one’s system. Maybe naming them would make the elder star feel a little better. If Solaris were to watch over them, they didn’t want their guardian to be sad.

“Are you sure?” Solaris tilted their head in surprise. “A name is an important thing. I’m honored, but are you sure that you wouldn’t rather do this yourself?” They nodded. The longer they thought about it, the better it felt. “I wouldn’t do a good job naming myself. I only just ignited. I’d probably pick something stupid.” Solaris snorted in agreement. “True. You seem like an impulsive little star, but you have a good core.” The crimson star smiled, and it looked far more genuine than before. They stilled for a while as they thought of a suitable name. “I’ve got it. Are you ready, little one?” The young star nodded, excitement filling their core. They couldn’t stop themselves from smiling. “Yes.”

Solaris set them down and rose to their full height. Their surface brightened as the massive star drew upon their essence. “I, Solaris, former star of the Sandra system, hereby name the firstborn star of this system Sol and future guardian of the Sol system.” As soon as the speech finished, they shivered as something settled within their core. Their surface briefly flared as their essence seemingly shifted. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, but it was still strange. “What was that?” “Sol” wasn't frightened, but they were curious.

“That,” Solaris explained as they put them down, “was your ignition ceremony.” The newly named Sol blinked in confusion. “My what?” “Your ignition ceremony,” Solaris repeated. “Whenever a star is born, their essence lacks an anchor. It is wild and uncontrollable. You probably noticed the swirling currents of your energy flowing around your core.” Sol hummed in acknowledgment, remembering the inferno they’d felt upon igniting.

“Whenever a star is named, whether by themselves or another, it centers their energy. Being named provides an identity, something for your essence to latch onto and build upon. That foundation is crucial for directing, storing, and stabilizing your energy. What you felt was your essence anchoring itself in your core and providing a conduit for your star-born energy to flow through.”

Sol twirled their hair around a finger, absorbing the elder’s words. “That makes sense, but you left one thing unanswered. You called our energy star-born. Does that mean that other celestial beings do not have it?” Sol couldn’t imagine existence without the constant thrum of their essence, the reassuring sensation of plasma in their core, without the comforting heat of elements fusing and channeling enough energy to power an entire star system.

“No,” Solaris confirmed. “That is something unique to stars. Of course, all celestial beings have trace amounts of cosmic energy, granting them sentience, but stars are its conduits. We stars are the keepers of cosmic energy and bathe the universe in our light.” Solaris looked them in the eye, a solemn spark in their ruby irises. “A word of caution for you, young one. Star energy is a wonderful and terrible thing. We can nourish entire galaxies with our light and radiation, but we can also destroy entire systems. Use yours wisely, Sol.”

Sol nodded, content with what they had learned. “I understand. Thank you, Solaris.” They considered the crimson star’s tired expression and decided they needed some cheering up. Solaris looked sad, and they didn’t like that. Sol put on a mischievous grin and started to gently tease the elder star.

“I have a question. Why did you name me Sol? It sounds an awful lot like your name. I didn’t take you for the type to have an ego.” Solaris’s resulting laughter sounded light, almost freeing, as if an invisible weight had dropped from their shoulders. “The name Sol means 'shine.” I can tell that you are going to be a wonderful star, Sol. It doesn’t hurt that it’s the first part of this,” Solaris gestured to themselves, “incredibly awesome star’s name either.”

Sol beamed (literally) at the compliment, their white rays illuminating the nursery. “Thank you. But what does your name mean?” The elder star grinned, eager to reveal the meaning of their name. “Aris’ means sword, so my name means ‘shining sword.” I named myself that because I was the youngest star in my system. That meant I was to be its sword as my siblings were its shield. I was also unusually bright for my mass, so I thought the name fit.”

Sol tilted their head, acknowledging their words. This was the first they had heard of Solaris’s siblings. They wondered what they were like. “How many stars were in your system?” The older star’s previously bright smile dimmed, and their eyes clouded over. Their voice was thick with grief when they finally responded.
“There were three of us. My oldest sibling, Sandra, was the biggest. They were a massive blue star and had the warmest core of any star I’ve ever met, but they could be fierce if they must.

My other sibling, Cosmo, was the middle child. They were a little more than twice my size in their main sequence and a beautiful yellowish-white. Cosmo was fiercely protective of us and was always the first to notice when someone wandered off. They were constantly patrolling the boundary of our system and wouldn’t hesitate to destroy anything they deemed a threat.”

Sol sensed the crimson star’s mood change and bit their lip in sympathy. They resolutely climbed and floated their way up until they were perched on Solaris’s shoulder. After a moment's consideration, they rested themselves on the older star’s cheek. “What happened to them?” they asked softly. Sol wasn’t stupid. They noticed the use of the past tense and the stated loss of their system led to only one conclusion. Solaris's siblings were no longer in the picture.

“They passed on,” the bigger star whispered. “Sandra died first. Many cycles ago, they collapsed into a black hole. Cosmo and I were barely able to save everyone. Cosmo eventually went supernova, taking the rest of our system with them. Their matter will be recycled into new systems someday if what’s left of Sandra doesn’t destroy it.” A tear of plasma dripped down their cheek.

Sol gently wiped it away. “I’m so sorry, Solaris. I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been through, and I know I can never replace your siblings, but I sincerely hope my company is enough for now.” The bigger star sniffed and wiped at their face with their hand. “It is. Thank you so much, Sol. It’s been eons since I was asked about them.”

Sol smiled and closed their eyes. “Anytime.” They yawned as they leaned against the older star’s head. Solaris chuckled and stroked their head with a fingertip. “Someone’s tired.” Sol wanted to protest, but another yawn cut them off. Solaris tenderly plucked them from their shoulder and cradled the smaller star in their cupped hands. “Rest, little one. It’s been a lot of activity for a newly ignited star.” They sleepily shoved at the fingertip, stroking their hair, but the motions were calming. Giving up on fighting sleep, Sol snuggled into the gentle caress and within moments drifted off into sleep.

Chapter Text

Sol and Solaris grew closer in the time that followed. Solaris seemed hesitant to allow them out of their sight, but occasionally they were allowed to explore as long as they didn’t leave the safety of the nursery. “Interstellar space is no place for children,” Solaris had told them. The elder star made a point of brightly flashing to call them back, and Sol always listened, wary of incurring their guardian's ire.

They didn’t know how much time had passed exactly, but it couldn’t have been much. (For reference, it was about two Earth weeks). Solaris told them stories of their system and the many shenanigans they and their siblings had done throughout the eons. Those stories were how they got to know Solaris, as the older star didn’t like to talk about themselves.

Personally, they thought the bigger star had some self-worth issues, but they didn’t press. Sol blinked and tried to get back to their original thoughts. Oh right. They were thinking about what they’d learned about Solaris. Through their stories and conversations, Sol learned about Solaris's love for storytelling and penchant for star jokes, even if some were terrible. They liked Solaris, they decided. They were nice.

Sol flicked their hair out of their eyes and went back to what they were doing. At the moment, they were perched on Solaris’s shoulder, fiddling with the elder star’s hair. The radiant strands bathed them in crimson light as the smaller star absentmindedly braided them. The other star was so big that they had to use both hands to move each strand of hair. They couldn’t braid all of it; they were far too small for that, but they could work on bits of it. Solaris’s head was already decorated with numerous small braids; what was one more?

“Solaris?” They asked. “When you were in your main sequence, how big were you?” They knew that the older star had long since left their earliest phase, even without being specifically told. The crimson star’s coloration and constant exhaustion were evidence enough, not to mention their stories implied they had been alive for a very long time. It wasn’t until they’d finished speaking that they realized that might be a sensitive subject. Luckily, Solaris didn’t seem upset as they just smiled and used their index finger to pat them on the head.

Sol scrambled for a hold as even that little force nearly sent him tumbling from their spot. “I was around 40 times your size and 1.35 times your mass.” Sol frowned. Were they really that much smaller? Catching their pout, Solaris picked them up and looked them in the eye. “Hey, none of that now,” they chided. “You’re not small.” The younger star blinked in astonishment. “How did you know what I was thinking?” Solaris grinned at them, if a bit smugly, before replying. The other star’s sharp teeth were almost as big as they were.

“Aside from the fact that it was written all over your face? All stars have at least a basic connection with the mind, but that’s not important at the moment.” Sol disagreed, yet they knew better than to interrupt the other when they were speaking. “You’re about average size and mass for a main sequence star. Some come way bigger and some come much smaller. You’re the perfect size for who you are.” Sol appreciated the effort to cheer them up, but it didn’t completely assuage their worries. Solaris kept speaking, breaking them from their thoughts. “Besides,” the bigger star grinned conspiratorially at them, “I don’t think the galaxy or even the universe could handle you any bigger!”

Solaris ended the statement by using a finger to gently tickle Sol’s belly. The young star shrieked in surprise as they desperately tried to flee the older star’s assault. Yet resistance was futile because before they could even blink, the massive star had them pinned down. Sol giggled uncontrollably as Solaris ruthlessly scraped their nail along their sensitive sides. Sol would deny this until the heat death of the universe and beyond, but they were extremely ticklish. The play session continued until Sol was too tired to laugh anymore, and their sides ached with laughter.

The play had visibly brightened both stars with Sol’s radiant white rays bright enough to blind planets if they happened to be nearby and Solaris’s crimson hue visible from light-years away. The smaller star wheezed from exertion as they floated to Solaris’s palm and promptly collapsed onto the warm plasma.

“I’ll get you for that,” they vowed. The older star raised an eyebrow. “Sure, you will. You look terrifying, sprawled out like you’ve just traversed the entire galaxy on my palm. I’m practically flaring with anticipation of your glorious revenge.” Sol rolled their eyes as Solaris glowed brighter for emphasis. “Dramatic star,” they jabbed. “Insubordinate child,” Solaris returned smugly.

Sol’s mood was greatly improved, but curiosity about one of their guardian’s earlier statements was quickly growing. They grunted with the effort of sitting up with sore limbs and an aching stomach. “What did you mean when you said all stars have a connection to the mind?” Solaris promptly face-palmed. “Universe, I can’t believe I didn’t explain this to you sooner.” Sol punched the bigger star, knowing full well it only felt like a light tap in admonishment. “Yes, I would have loved to hear about this sooner.”

Solaris rolled their eyes. “Shush, you. Anyway, all stars can connect with other celestial beings' minds, but it's easiest with other stars. You probably already know that stars, like planets, are social beings and aren’t meant to exist without a companion. That’s why stars are always born in groups of two or more, and there are multiple planets for every star system.” They hadn’t known that, but it made sense. Sol remembered the crippling anxiety they felt when they thought they had been alone in their nursery. The younger star quickly turned their attention back to Solaris before they missed anything.

If a star is alone and unable to contact another star for too long, it seriously degrades their mental state. If they’re isolated for long enough, the star enters dormancy as a last resort attempt to retain their sanity. But as the universe expanded, star systems became further apart, preventing stars from communicating with each other. The further apart they drifted, the more isolated stars became, and the greater the risk of the star entering dormancy or going insane. Once a star contracts “stellar isolation,” it’s nearly impossible to cure them or wake them from dormancy.”

Sol covered their mouth in horror. Was that what would have happened to them without Solaris to guide them? Suddenly, Solaris’s fear of them wandering off made a sickening amount of sense. They didn’t want Sol to fall victim to stellar isolation.

“Eventually, distances between star systems were so vast that stars tried everything they could think of to contact each other, even over distances spanning hundreds or even thousands of light years. It took a long time, and many stars were lost before we discovered how to send messages with our minds over incredibly vast distances. Some stars are better than others, but every star can send and receive basic mental messages and emotions by sending out bits of their essence and having it interact with someone else’s.”

“Take your worry about your size. You were projecting it so loudly that it was impossible to miss. That’s the beginner stuff. The more advanced stars can even reach each other on opposite ends of the galaxy, send complicated emotions through mental bonds, and even manipulate memories. You’re still too young, so your abilities haven’t fully manifested yet. Once you’re a little older, you’ll figure it out.”

Sol sat there for a while trying to absorb the sheer amount of information they had just been given and committing it to memory. They thought back over the time they spent together, remembering the times when Solaris could always seem to tell what they were thinking. “That... explains a lot. How will I know when I’m able to do that?” Solaris seemed to struggle to word their answer. They supposed that trying to put connecting to another's mind into words would be difficult, so they waited patiently for the older star’s reply.

“You’ll just know. The best way I can think to explain it is that you’ll feel a sort of tingling sensation in your core. Then you’ll feel a mental wall of sorts. That wall is what kept you from spreading your essence until then because your mind wasn’t prepared enough yet. Once you can feel the wall, you won’t need it anymore. Now that you’re aware of it, you’ll be able to feel how the wall constricts your essence and forces you to stay locked inside your body. It’s horribly claustrophobic. You’ll have to break that wall.”

Sol spoke up, cutting off their guardian. “How do you do that?” Luckily, Solaris didn’t seem upset with them and answered their question. “Every star describes it a bit differently, so I can’t tell you how to do that. Once you do break it, your essence can spread out and connect with that of other stars. You’ll be able to feel nearby stars’ basic emotions and send them simple messages unless they deliberately block you from doing so.”

Sol waved to catch the older star’s attention. “There’s a way to stop other stars from messing with your mind and essence?” “Yes, but we’ll discuss that once you’re older and able to spread your essence. Anyway, with enough practice, you’ll be able to send longer, more complex thoughts and emotions, and better receive them in turn. Who knows? Maybe you’ll be one of the stars with a real talent for mental communication. The kind of star that can reach across the galaxy and even tamper with memories and emotions.”

Sol nodded in understanding, though the thought of tampering with another's mind in such a way made them uncomfortable. If they ever became powerful at mental communication, they vowed never to force another celestial being to feel or do something they didn’t want to or wasn’t natural. Still, the thought of being able to spread their essence and communicate over long distances intrigued them.

They smiled at Solaris, imagining the possibilities of what they could do with that sort of power. “That’s awesome! So, one day I’ll be able to read others the way you can read me?” Solaris smiled. “Yes, Sol. You’re going to love it. Being able to connect with other stars in such a fundamental way just… fills some desperate need for connection you didn’t even know you had.”

Sol's grin faded as they processed that statement. With horrifying slowness, they realized the gravity of what they had been told. They finally realized why the elder star seemed so broken. Solaris…. Had been alone since before they were born. They had no contact with anyone for universe knows how long. What had their guardian said again, “Stars cannot be alone for too long, or it seriously degrades their sanity?” Sol’s core might as well have frozen over with the shiver that traveled through them.

“Solaris. You have been alone in the void of space for universe knows how long. You said isolation has extreme consequences for stars, and I’m the first physical star you’ve talked to in probably eons! You’ve never gotten to talk to anyone about much less process your sibling deaths so…. You’ve been suffering this whole time, and I had no idea.” Sol finished their statement, whispering in horror. Tears trailed down their cheeks. They didn’t know why they were crying. They weren’t the ones going through it. Still, the mere thought of their guardian suffering in such a way was enough to make their shoulders shake with sobs.

Solaris scooped them up, frantically whispering reassurances. Sol didn’t hear them. Their thoughts were spiraling out of control, and their vision had gone blurry with tears. They only barely registered the other star’s attempts to calm them down. Sol dug their nails into their legs. The pain grounded them enough to focus on Solaris’s voice. “Calm down, little one…. I’m ok…. Can you follow my flashing…. That’s it…. Sol trembled from the effort of following their instructions. Flash bright, hold it for a moment, flash dim, hold it for a moment. They repeated the pattern until Solaris had soothed them enough that they could think clearly again.

Sol hung their head, embarrassed at their outburst. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I reacted that way.” They were scared to look back up at the older star and face their disappointment. For how could they be anything but disappointed in Sol? Having a breakdown over something that hasn’t even happened to them. Solaris had every right to be angry. They were such a useless star.

Yet the thought of their guardian telling them the truth nearly had them in tears again. They trusted Solaris. Sol didn’t want to hear them say how much of a failure they were. But they didn’t want Solaris to lie to them. It was better to face the truth head-on. Maybe it would hurt less that way. Once they finally braced themselves and forced their head to look at the other star, they found nothing but concern in care in those crimson eyes. The sight was nearly enough to make them start sobbing again.

“Oh, Sol. I could never be upset with you for that. You reacted like any young star would with the prospect of their guardian suffering. The elder star wiped away the tears that spilled down the younger’s face. When had they started crying again? “You reacted that way because you have a big core. You care about me and don’t like the idea of me being hurt. Yes, it was terrible and I don’t want to talk about it, but I’m getting better. Your company and that you didn’t ask about it and empathized instead means so much to me. My sweet Sol, your reaction only says you love so much more than words could ever hope to express. I could never be upset with you for loving too much.”

Sol stifled a sob and curled up to the bigger star’s chest. They didn’t say anything, and neither did Solaris. They just let them be held like the child they were. And if Sol fell asleep to the comforting familiarity of Solaris running their fingers through their hair, that was no one’s business but theirs.

Chapter Text

Time was difficult to measure without a system. With no planets to gauge time by and with only their orbit around the galaxy's center as a reference, Sol found themselves relying on Solaris’s memories of their system to grasp the passage of time. The bigger star had said something about measuring time in “cycles,” but they didn’t quite understand what that meant. Nevertheless, it couldn’t have been long before Sol found themselves wandering the depths of their stellar nursery, curious about what the swirling clouds hid from their sight.

As they aimlessly navigated the vast confines of their nursery, they caught sight of a dim light coming from their left. Interested, they wondered whether they should investigate it. Idly, they twirled their hair around their fingers. Solaris had told them they had a habit of doing that when they were thinking. They had also told Sol that they were free to explore the nursery as long as they were cautious and came back when Solaris called for them.

Well, they were curious and they had nothing better to do. Might as well check it out. Decision made, they floated their way forward, playfully skirting around imaginary obstacles until they found the source of the light. A big clump of gas and dust floated in the space in front of them. It was rapidly spinning and two hot jets of matter spewed from its poles. The whole thing especially the jets emitted a beautiful bright orange glow.

They took in the glowing ball as a smile crept across their face. Vaguely, they recognized that this thing could become a sibling for them, even though they weren’t sure how. Instinct perhaps. Stars were meant to have partners after all. Sol shook themselves out of their thoughts. There was no time to waste, they had to tell their guardian! They spun on their feet and sped back to Solaris, excited to share the news. They barreled into the older star, enthusiastic chatter already spilling from their lips.

“Solaris! There's a big, glowing, clump of dust and gas! I’m getting a sibling!” The bigger star flared brightly in surprise at being slammed into. “Oh, universe! That’s fantastic, but a bit of warning before you tackle me like that.” Sol blinked, carefully detangling themselves from the older star's hair. “Sorry, but come on! You gotta see it!” They didn’t wait for a reply before speeding off again, trusting their white glow to guide the crimson star.

A quick look back revealed that Solaris seemed hesitant to enter the nursery. The elder star’s eyes darted around as they carefully moved each cloud of material aside with their gravity before proceeding. Sol noted that and slowed their pace to something the other star could match. “This way. We’re almost there!” They were practically vibrating with excitement, and their glow could be seen for light years. “Come on, hurry up!” “I’m coming!” Sol huffed in exasperation but waited for their guardian to arrive before moving on. In moments, they had arrived at their destination, and Sol pointed out the glowing ball.

“See? It’s almost half my size! I’m sure it will ignite into a star eventually.” Solaris studied the clump from a safe distance. “You’re right. It’s a promising-looking protostar. It probably will ignite and soon, by the look of it.” Sol tilted their head in confusion at the new term. “What’s a protostar?” Solaris huffed. “Proto’ means ‘first,’ as in relating to a predecessor. So, a protostar is a star that hasn’t ignited yet and is still forming. This one looks almost ready to begin element fusion and ignite.”

Sol beamed in happiness, focusing on the last sentence. “I’m going to get to meet them soon? That’s amazing. I wonder what they’ll be like.” They turned to face Solaris. “What color are they going to be?” Solaris studied the protostar before answering. “Orangish-red and probably a little less than half your mass.” The elder star seemed to decide on something as they continued talking. “This seems like an excellent time to discuss star classifications.” Solaris scooped them up before they could protest and retreated to their usual position on the edge of the nursery. They didn’t put Sol down even as they exited the nursery’s depths.

“Stars are classified according to their mass, radius, color, hydrogen lines, temperature during their main sequence, and luminosity or brightness. We’ll start at the bottom classes and work our way up, ok, Sol?” Sol didn’t get a chance to respond before the older star continued speaking. Rude.

“At the bottom, there are M-class stars. M-class stars have the lowest temperatures of any star class and are orangish-red or light orangish-red in color. They’re the dimmest stars with less than 8% luminosity and have the weakest hydrogen lines of any star class. M-class stars in their main sequence are 8%-45% of your mass, and their radii are 70% of yours. They are the most common star class, accounting for 76% of main sequence stars. I’m pretty sure your sibling will be a M-class star.”

Sol interrupted before their guardian could continue. “How do you know all of this? It’s fascinating, but how do stars gather this information? And what are hydrogen lines?” Solaris rolled their eyes in impatience. “There's a mandatory survey for all stars every cycle, and hydrogen lines are spectral lines created by a change in the energy state of solitary, neutrally charged hydrogen atoms. Hydrogen lines are weaker in low-class stars, stronger in intermediate-class stars, and weaker again in high-class stars. Now, may I continue?” Sol nodded in affirmation.

Anyway, next is K-class stars. They have the second-lowest core temperatures and range from light orange to pale yellowish-orange in coloration. K-class stars are the second-dimmest star class, ranging from 8% to 60% of your luminosity, and their radii are 70%-96% of yours. They are 45%-80% of your mass and make up 12% of main sequence stars.”

Next, there are G-class stars. You’re a G-class star; Sol. Class G stars are usually white with a slight yellow tint, depending on their temperature. They're 80%-104% of your mass, and their radii are 96%-115% of your radius. G-class stars are the third dimmest, being 67%-150% of your luminosity, and have weak hydrogen lines. G-class stars make up 7.6% of main-sequence stars. Because you’re on the higher end of G-class stars in terms of mass, you’re in the middle of the rankings even if you’re slightly below average in terms of luminosity.”

“F-class stars are one step above G-class. They’re the fourth-hottest star class and are brilliant white like yourself. F-class stars are 1.04-1.4 times your mass, and their radii are 1.15-1.4 times your radius. They have medium hydrogen lines and are 1.5-5 times brighter than you. They’re one of the rarer classes, making up 3% of main-sequence stars. In my main sequence, I was on the high end of F-class.” Sol noted the sudden change from percentages to times, but they didn’t comment on it. It made things easier to understand as the numbers increased.

“The next star class is A-class. A-class stars are the third-hottest stars and are white with a slight blue tint. They are 1.4-2.1 times more massive than you, and their radii are 1.4-1.8 times yours. A-class stars have strong hydrogen lines and are 5-25 times brighter than you. They’re highly uncommon, making up 0.61% of main sequence stars.”

“Our second-to-last star classification is B-class. They are the second-hottest star class and are varying shades of bluish-white. B-class stars are 2.1-16 times your mass, and their radii are 1.8-6.6 times bigger than your radius. They range anywhere between 25-30,000 times your luminosity and have medium hydrogen lines. B-class stars are the second rarest type of star, being 0.12% of main sequence stars.”

“Finally, there are O-class stars,” Sol noted that Solaris’s tone was tinged with bitterness about this particular class of star. They made a mental note to avoid the subject. It was clear Solaris didn’t want to talk about them. “They’re the hottest star class and are various shades of blue. O-class refers to any star over 16 times your mass and with over 6.6 times bigger radii. They’re the brightest type of star, being over 30,000 times brighter than you and have weak hydrogen lines. O-class stars are the rarest star class, accounting for only 0.00003% of main sequence stars.”

Solaris paused for a moment to allow Sol to process. The younger star carefully reviewed the information and gratefully thanked their guardian for the break. When they were ready, they gestured for the older star to continue.

“Every star class is further divided into 9 sub-classes based on their core temperature, with a designation 1 being the coldest and 9 the hottest. Sol, you’re on the cooler end of G-class stars, so your full classification is G2. While I was in my main sequence, I was unusually hot, so my classification is F8.”

“But there is a benefit to being among the lower classes of stars. The general rule for a star’s life span is that the more massive the star, the shorter its main sequence, thus the shorter its life cycle. Because you’re an upper G-class in terms of mass, you have an average amount of mass. That means you’ll have an average main sequence length. Since I’m more massive than you, I had a shorter main sequence than the one you’ll have. Once the main sequence phase is up, different star classes die in different ways.”

“Lower class and intermediate star classes run out of hydrogen and begin fusing helium, triggering the red giant phase. Stars with less than 8 times your mass will become white dwarves once the red giant phase is up and shed their outer layers into beautiful nebulae. Finally, the white dwarf core will continue to shine for a near-infinite amount of time. This phase lasts so long that low and mid-class stars are practically immortal.”

The higher-class stars go supernova after their giant phase ends and die in a brilliant explosion. These supernovae are so bright you can see them for thousands of light years. Sometimes the supernova remnants can create a neutron star, but I don’t know much about how.”

“Finally, the really high-class stars like the upper B and O-class stars collapse into back holes. Their consciousness doesn’t survive the collapse, and the black holes born from collapsed stars are mere shades of the star they came from. They’re ravenous monsters and something to be avoided at all costs. Black holes born from galaxies are much calmer. They can be reasoned with and even protectors of the stars that orbit them. However, they are no less dangerous than their star-born counterparts, if not more so. All black holes, regardless of origin, are to be treated with extreme caution.”

Sol remembered that one of Solaris’ siblings, “Sandra,” had collapsed into a black hole. “Sandra’s” gravity once they collapsed would have been impossible for anything that wasn’t a star to escape, and even that was debatable. So, Solaris and Cosmo would have been stuck orbiting a monster born from their sibling's death, as the rest of their system wouldn’t have been able to leave anymore. It must have been horrible and likely stayed that way until Cosmo’s supernova.

They opened their mouth to express their condolences but the hard look in their elder’s eyes warned them to drop the subject. Sol heeded the unspoken warning and remained quiet as they committed the information to memory. They had no desire to make their guardian discuss something they weren’t ready for and Sol quickly changed the subject.

“That’s a lot to digest. Anyway, you implied that you were an intermediate class type star being a high-end F-class, and I know you’re in your giant phase. That must be why you’re so big and a stunning crimson rather than white.” Solaris glowed with pride. “You were listening? You’re such a bright little star, aren’t you?” Sol couldn’t stop a giggle at the joke, and their laughter made Solaris glow brighter. “I am indeed in my giant phase,” they gestured to their red-stained body, “so I’m bigger, cooler, and dimmer than I was in my main sequence. The cooler temperature makes me glow red rather than white.”

Sol chewed on the inside of their cheek. They did not like the implication that Solaris was so close to the end of their life cycle. “That means you’ll eventually go supernova and leave me and my sibling.” Logically, they knew they still had time left with the elder star, but being faced with the prospect of their guardian’s upcoming death sent a wave of panic through the young star. What if Solaris went supernova before they could say goodbye? What if their sibling never got to know them?” They swallowed the lump forming in their throat and instinctively clutched their knees to their chest for comfort.

Solaris scooped up the younger star and cupped them to their chest, effectively cutting off the forming panic attack. “Don’t worry, little one. We still have time. It will be a long time before I have to leave you two. I’m not going anywhere for the time being.”

Solaris stroked their hair and back, calming the storm of emotions in their chest. (The rate at which they calmed down didn’t feel natural. Was Solaris manipulating their emotions? No, they wouldn’t do that. The thought was gone just as quickly as it arrived. “For now, you should rest. You’ll need all your energy for when your sibling ignites. Sleep.”

As soon as the words were spoken, Sol felt exhaustion wash over them. The tiredness came on quickly, erasing their will to protest and turning their limbs to jelly. Effectively collapsing into Solaris’s hold, they curled up against their guardian and fell asleep within moments.

Chapter Text

Solaris watched as the young star visibly fought to stay awake. Sol’s eyes fluttered and their surface dimmed as they protested the soothing tendrils of Solaris’s influence trying to drag them into unconsciousness. They had put up a good fight for their age, but Sol had still only lasted moments before succumbing to the elder star’s will.

The white star swayed on their feet, and their head drooped as they stumbled. Solaris caught them as they fell, and the smaller star immediately tucked themselves into their hold. Sol was asleep as soon as their warm plasma met their own. Sol had ultimately succumbed to Solaris’s influence, but the fact that they had managed to resist at all was impressive. They would be powerful one day, but no matter. There was plenty of time to examine Sol further later.

Carefully they placed the young star back in their orbit and turned to face the rest of the galaxy. Their long hair still adorned with numerous small braids flared out like a halo behind them. It had been almost a full cycle since they arrived and it was time to report back to their overseer.

They squashed any guilt they might have felt about manipulating Sol’s mind flat before it could form. Sol was but a child and woefully naïve. They knew nothing of the dangers or life beyond their nursery. It was best to keep them safe and content. Let them enjoy their innocence while they can before they’re exposed to harsh reality and released from Solaris’s care. They refused to acknowledge the feral hiss building up from their chest at the thought of having their charge taken from them. Sol was theirs. They wouldn’t let the outside galaxy taint them. With one last glance back at the sleeping child, they opened their mental gateways.

“This is Solaris designated class F8 and assigned guardian to Stellar Nursery 134,” they sent. It didn’t take long for their overseer's voice to pierce their mind like needles. “Solaris” Bellona hissed. Their voice sent pinpricks of pain through the ruby star’s psyche, and they knew the other star enjoyed it. Bellona was an O8 class star and didn’t hesitate to abuse the authority that came with the ranking. The blue supergiant was notorious for ruthlessly bullying anyone they deemed inferior, especially smaller stars. Solaris suspected they were jealous of lower-class stars for their longer lifespans.

Bellona was one of the biggest and brightest stars on record, and their main sequence was a mere 545,545 cycles (6 million Earth years). Compare that with a lower-class star like Sol’s 909,909,909 cycles long (10 billion Earth years) main sequence, and it was laughably short. Nevertheless, they turned their attention back to their report. It was never wise to ignore such a dangerous star, even if they were hundreds of light years away.

“What is the status of the designated stellar nursery? Assuming you made yourself useful and didn’t collapse your charges’ cores.” Bellona’s voice was cruel, and it skated along Solaris’s essence like claws. Bellona was a predator, and they had deemed Solaris their prey. It was the natural order of things, but it still had them biting back a hiss in retaliation. They had to clench their claws (when had they come out? Damn it Solaris get yourself under control!) into their palms to keep from spitting back insults. Doing so against a star this powerful was a surefire way to an early supernova. They liked their core intact, thank you very much.

“The nursery is progressing nicely. It’s still in its early stages of development, but it shows promise in becoming its own star system in a few hundred thousand cycles.” Bellona’s reply was painful tendrils of their essence rooting around the smaller star’s psyche simply because they enjoyed causing Solaris pain. “Any successful stars?” The ruby star was careful to keep their tone neutral as they responded. Any sense of emotion was a weakness to Bellona.

A G2-class star designation “Sol” has successfully ignited, and an M-class protostar is nearing its ignition point. The estimated time till ignition is a quarter cycle, and dimensions upon doing so are estimated at 45% one mid-G-class mass and 65% one mid-G-class radius. As for the rest of the system, it remains clouds of gas and dust. While there are some clumps present, they are unlikely to mature into planets or stars and will probably break up shortly. The nursery appears to be settling into a binary star system with good potential for planets.”

The supergiant’s amusement was cold like a black hole right before it ripped apart your core. “A G2-class and M-class? They’ll never amount to anything. Even you, pathetic as you are, could consume them without even noticing.” Solaris could barely think over their suffocating fury at the insult. (They refused to acknowledge that most of the anger was born of protectiveness. It wasn’t safe to get attached.)

They bit their tongue until they tasted plasma. It was lucky that their fangs were hidden at the moment, or they would have bitten their tongue off. They tried to keep their tone void of emotion when they replied. “You know full well that it’s against the universal laws to purposely end the life of another star or any celestial being without a damn good reason. I’m not careless enough to risk my charge’s deaths, accidental or otherwise.”

The “unlike you” was left unsaid, but Solaris knew the bard was received when Bellona bristled. It was common knowledge that some of the bigger stars, Bellona included, had little regard for those smaller than them. Some of the more sadistic ones even used smaller stars and planets as an extra source of hydrogen and helium. Those monsters consumed the smaller beings and used the fuel to extend their lifespans, universal laws be dammed. It was disgusting. Some leniency was given to stars that were on the verge of death and could no longer resist the urge to feed, but consuming another celestial being while still sane was despicable.

Bellona had consumed the star system they were supposed to watch over long ago, and they were barely halfway through their hydrogen supply. They claimed it was accidental, but Solaris knew better. Bellona simply saw their charges as playthings, toys to be used and then eaten once they weren’t fun anymore. Like all stars, Bellona was a predator. They just had no regard for balance or universal laws, unlike Solaris.

“Very well,” the blue supergiant snarled. “Let’s get this over with. Give me what I need for the records. I have better things to do than put up with your insolence.” Solaris dug their claws deeper into their palms until plasma dripped from the wounds. Universe dammit. Bellona was supposed to keep track of new stars this cycle. That meant they had no choice but to give information to one of the most sadistic stars they knew. Lying was not an option if they wanted to keep their sanity. Bellona was far more skilled at mental communication and wouldn’t hesitate to shred the ruby star’s psyche if they detected an untruth. Silently apologizing to their charges, they recounted what they knew.

“Sol is the firstborn of this developing system. They are approximately half a cycle old (5.5 Earth years) and are exactly one mid-G-class mass and radius but have slightly below average luminosity.” (Because the middle of G-class is average mass and radius, stars use it as their basic measurement system.) “They are extremely intelligent for their age and can come to accurate conclusions with very little information and time. Sol is very physically active and extremely curious. They have yet to develop their mental and energy manipulation abilities but are quite skilled in gravity, temperature, and luminosity manipulation.”

Bellona hummed, “Define quite skilled,” and Solaris detected a hint of interest in their tone. That wasn’t a good thing. Things that caught Bellona’s attention tended to end up broken or missing. “They picked it up almost instantaneously after achieving sentience and rarely falter in it. However, they have yet to try some of the more advanced skills.”

Bellona’s reply was tinged with curiosity, a predator considering their prey. “That’s to be expected for their age. Young stars are more active and playful. They have little interest in trying to hone their skills. So why was this “Sol” doing these things so early? You know that most stars take at least half a cycle to acclimate to existence before manipulating anything. What’s so special about this…. Sol of yours?”

Solaris quietly swore. They didn’t want to give Bellona an excuse to target Sol, and the young star’s emotional nature was going to be seen as a weakness to exploit. However, if they were lucky, Bellona would lose interest in Sol if they perceived them as weak. It was a risk they were willing to take.

“Sol is an emotional star. Upon ignition, they believed they were alone, which greatly distressed them. When they discovered my presence, they immediately deemed me an outsider to their system and became wary and potentially hostile. This reaction is unusual, as most newborn stars react with fear at a potential threat instead of becoming protective of their undeveloped siblings and nursery. Now, Sol is very attached to me to the point of extreme psychological distress if they believe I am hurt. Sol is hyper-protective of the ones they care about and their future system. I believe that they were manipulating those things so early because they are driven by strong emotions.”

Disgust colored the connection. Solaris smiled despite the awful sensation of Bellona’s essence rooting through their own. Their interest had been averted. Bellona saw Sol’s emotions as a weakness and deemed the young star not worth their attention. Sol was safe from them for now. “Understood. I have everything I need for the records. It was not a pleasure speaking to you. Report back when the M-class ignites.” With one last cruel yank on the crimson star’s essence, Bellona cut the connection.

Solaris reeled as pain exploded behind their eyes from the strike. They rubbed their temples and sighed. Universe, they hated that star. Good thing they didn’t have to talk to the sadistic supergiant again for another quarter cycle. They looked back at the still-unconscious white star. Solaris felt a bit bad for invading Sol’s mind and forcing their will to submit even if they didn’t know it.

(They were actually quite fond of the younger star, even if they wouldn’t admit it to themselves.) Solaris forced the guilt aside. Sol was young and hadn’t even developed any mental defenses or learned to protect themselves. They hadn’t even grown their fangs and claws yet, much less learned how to use them. This was for Sol’s own good.

Chapter Text

Time passed in a blur for Sol. The young stars spent most of their time playing with Solaris or listening to their lectures. Of course, whenever they could get their elder's permission, they left their guardian's watchful eye to check on their forming sibling and go exploring. The crimson star quickly became a mentor for them, and Sol often looked to them for guidance. Solaris taught them many things, including tricks for better controlling their temperature, luminosity, and gravitational pull. Gravity manipulation was quickly proving to be the hardest to master.

Sol pulled at their hair in frustration as the asteroid they were practicing with was ejected from the nursery. “Don’t worry,” Solaris shrugged. The older star’s voice was frustratingly amused. “You’ll get it. It takes a lot of practice to set and manipulate an object's orbit. You’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.” Sol ground their teeth together in frustration. Sensing their gravitational field and bending it to their will was the easy part. Yet figuring out the right adjustments to make and to what degree was painstakingly difficult. Too much force and the object is crushed or ejected. Too little force and the object drifts away or crashes against something else. This was hard!

Sol loudly voiced their complaints, surface flashing in annoyance. “This is hard! I can sense my gravitational field and bend it, but figuring out how to use it to influence something else is so frustrating! Why do I even need to know this stuff? Solaris just chuckled and patronizingly patted them on the head. The smaller star instinctively leaned into the touch before remembering themselves. Glowing in embarrassment, Sol hurriedly fixed their hair from where their guardian had ruffled it.

“If or when you get planets, you’ll need to know how to set and sense their orbits. Sometimes you might even need to change them or reorganize your entire system. Also, in the event of an intrusion into your system, knowing how to manipulate not only yourself but other things with your gravity will let you weaponize anything within your reach.” Sol huffed but acknowledged that the elder star had a point. “Fine. I guess that could come in handy. It’s still hard, though.”

Solaris chuckled. “Of course it is, little one.” Sol frowned at the nickname. They weren’t that little, and Solaris had said they weren’t done growing! “Don’t be so disheartened. Not only are the objects you are manipulating much less massive than yourself, which makes it hard to figure out how hard to pull on them, but you’re also having to learn how to use your gravity to overcome its own. That's not even mentioning that you have to determine which direction to pull from. You’re already doing so well, what’s a few mistakes here and there? You can already sense your gravitational pull and manipulate it. That’s very impressive for a star barely half a cycle old.”

Sol smiled at the older star, glad to be complimented. “You really think I’m doing well?” Sol affectionately nudged the younger with their gravity. “I know so. It took me almost a full cycle before I could sense my gravity, much less manipulate it. You’ll figure it out eventually.” Sol smiled their core warming at the encouragement. “Thank you. That makes me feel a lot better.”

They were about to say more, but a sudden sense of urgency overcame them, shining into their mind like a beacon. It was impossible to ignore, and Sol slowly turned to face the depths of their nursery. It was coming from there. Solaris must have noticed their change of focus because they asked, “Sol? What’s wrong?” The older star’s voice was tinged with concern. They didn’t notice, too focused on the tug on their essence.

“I don’t know. We need to go, now.” Without waiting for a reply, they floated away following the pull on their core. Their vision narrowed and if Sol were an outsider they would have seen their pupils narrow to slits. They didn’t hear their guardian's desperate calls for them to return, nor the muffled curses as they followed. Sol couldn’t feel anything but the desperate need to go wherever the pull led them.

They could have been traveling for eons for all they knew, but it seemed like moments before Sol was floating in front of the protostar. The incessant pulling was radiating from it as if their unborn sibling was begging for help. The protostar was flickering weakly and was dimmer than when they last checked on it. Sol could sense the problem.

The yet-to-be-born star didn’t have enough energy to ignite. Their essence was simply too weak to begin element fusion and channel energy. Sol could feel their sibling’s desperation, and who were they to deny them? Their surface flashed, and instinct told them the pattern was meant to call for their siblings and reassure them. Still, in a trance-like state, Sol raised their hand and gently rested it on the swirling clouds of the protostar.

“Don’t worry, little sibling,” they soothed. Sol couldn’t be sure, but they swore they felt the protostar’s cry of relief at being answered. “I’ll help you.” They felt their innate energy, their very being, swirl around their core. Sol carefully plucked a tiny sliver of their essence and forced it through their hand and into the protostar.

The moment they did so, their unborn sibling released their hold on Sol’s mind. The white star blinked in confusion as the foreign presence withdrew from their psyche. As they remembered the situation, they flared in panic. Sol barely managed to withdraw their hand and close their eyes before the protostar exploded in a brilliant inferno of plasma and heat.

The young star was thrown back by the force, and pain exploded across their body from the explosion. Sol resisted the instinct to whine in distress as they struggled back onto their feet. Sol’s normally radiant surface was dim, and their vision was fading fast. They swayed on their feet, and every movement hurt.

Sol barely had the energy to turn their head and face the no longer protostar. The new star was beautiful with their long lashes and red glow, giving the illusion of a fiery comet. Their sibling was smaller than previously estimated, maybe 30% of their mass and 35% of their radius. The newly ignited star looked around in wonder, but something was calculating in those ruby irises. That was all Sol’s exhausted body could handle before their eyes fluttered shut and they passed out.

Chapter Text

Solaris watched amused as Sol huffed in frustration. The younger star’s latest attempt at gravity manipulation had failed miserably, but they were making progress. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it,” they soothed, trying to calm the agitated youngster. “It takes a lot of practice to set and manipulate an object's orbit.” They remembered the arguments and occasional battles among their siblings as the three of them tried to figure out where the best orbits were for anything. With three separate stars fighting for gravitational superiority, the resulting orbits for everything wound up chaotic. It had taken them ages to figure out how to keep everything stable.

“This is hard! I can sense my gravitational field and bend it, but figuring out how to use it to influence something else is so frustrating! Why do I even need to know this stuff?” Sol threw their hands up for emphasis. Solaris stroked the younger’s head with a fingertip to calm them. Sure enough, their charge leaned into the caress, sighing contentedly. After a moment, the young star seemed to remember they were doing something.

Solaris tried not to laugh as Sol hurriedly tugged themselves from their guardian’s grip and smoothed their hair back into place. It was worth a shot. Now to answer Sol’s question before they got distracted, as young ones tend to do. “If or when you get planets, you must know how to set and sense their orbits. Sometimes you might even need to change them and reorganize your entire system. Also, in the event of an intrusion into your system, knowing how to manipulate not only yourself but other objects with your gravity will allow you to weaponize anything within your reach.”

The young star huffed and crossed their arms. Solaris thought they looked rather like a frustrated child and grinned at the comparison. “Fine. I guess that could come in handy. It’s still hard, though.” The elder star chuckled at Sol’s complaint. “Of course it is, little one.” They pretended not to notice Sol’s offense at the nickname.

“Don’t be so disheartened. Not only are the objects you are manipulating much less massive than yourself, which makes it hard to figure out how hard to pull on them, but you're also having to learn how to use your gravity to overcome its own. That’s not even mentioning that you have to determine which direction to pull from. You’re already doing so well, what’s a few mistakes here and there? You can already sense your gravitational pull and manipulate it. That's very impressive for a star barely half a cycle old.”

Their charge looked up at them, and the hope in those glowing irises made their core clench. “You really think I’m doing well?” Oh, my sweet Sol, you have no idea how adorable you are. They could feel their surface flash in possessiveness, and their fingernails itched with the urge to extend their claws and run them through the child’s hair. Solaris’ gums tingled as their fangs yearned to extend, and they fought to keep their pupils from constricting. They battled the instinct to scoop up the young star and hide them away somewhere the universe could never touch them. A deep breath helped them suppress the innate urge to protect their charge.

Sol was young and naïve. They weren’t aware of stars’ nature, and Solaris was sure they would be frightened by such predatory behavior, even if it was out of protectiveness. They stuffed their instincts to the back of their mind and affectionately nudged the younger star with their gravity to demonstrate the technique, careful not to jostle the smaller star too much. “I know so. It took me almost a full cycle before I could sense my gravity, much less manipulate it. You’ll figure it out eventually.” Sol smiled at them, and Solaris could see the spaces where their fangs would grow in. “Thank you. That makes me feel a lot better.”

The younger star looked like they wanted to say more, but their eyes suddenly unfocused, and they turned to face the vast clouds of the Stellar Nursery. Sol moved stiffly as if they were a spectator in their own body. Solaris allowed their pupils to narrow, and their vision sharpened at their charge’s strange behavior. “Sol? What’s wrong?” They canvassed the area for threats, but there was nothing they could see that could elicit such a reaction from the smaller star. “I don’t know. We need to go, now.” Without another word, they floated off into their nursery.

“Sol? Sol, come back!” Solaris shouted after them. “This isn’t funny, Sol! Come back and tell me what’s going on!” No matter how much the older star pleaded, the younger never turned back. They just kept floating further into the nursery.

The elder star released a feral hiss in frustration. It was clear that something was wrong with Sol; they weren’t acting like themselves. The crimson star couldn’t let the younger one wander off like this. Universe knows what was waiting for them. Sol was unresponsive to their attempt to retrieve them, so Solaris had no choice but to follow them into the nursery. They let their fangs extend and fingernails morph into claws as they followed whispering curses under their breath. This star was going to be the death of them.

As Solaris traversed the nursery, they paused every few moments to move the clouds of material aside. They couldn’t risk incinerating any of it, or there might not be enough material to form a proper star system. It was safest to avoid entering the nursery at all, but they didn’t have much of a choice. Their hair floated around them like a scarlet halo, and their surface flared in an intimidation display. Something was very wrong here.

They weren’t entirely sure what was causing their Sol’s odd behavior, but they suspected another star was involved. Sol was young enough that their mind wasn’t fully developed, and they wouldn’t have any mental defenses. Solaris had taken advantage of that themselves, but they had been careful not to damage the younger star’s psyche. Other stars would show no such kindness. They were predators by nature. The scars littering Solaris’s body from past battles were proof of that. But no matter how hard they searched or stretched their essence, they couldn’t sense another star in the area. The ruby star still didn’t lower their guard as they followed Sol.

Suddenly, Sol stopped, and Solaris scrambled to avoid crashing into the smaller star. They quickly surveyed the area, but they and Sol were alone. Nothing else was but the nursery’s clouds, and the protostar was in the vicinity. Deeming the area safe enough, they turned to see Sol hovering in front of the protostar. Their eyes appeared slightly clearer as they studied the glowing clump of gas and dust. Solaris hummed as they studied the situation. The protostar was dimmer than it ought to be. Sol’s surface flashed, and they recognized the pattern as one young star used to call for their siblings or reassure them. Solaris tilted their head in confusion. The protostar hadn’t ignited, so it wasn’t sentient. So why was Sol so drawn to it?

It didn’t matter. Sol was safe, and the nursery remained isolated, and that was all Solaris cared about. No other stars were involved, and they breathed a sigh of relief. Their scarlet hair settled back around their shoulders, and their fangs and claws retracted. Solaris blinked as their pupils dilated and their vision returned to normal. It had been a long time since they had been able to indulge like that.

They made a note to do it more often once Sol’s fangs and claws grew in. It was far more comfortable to have their more instinctive features out than to keep them concealed. Solaris had never had to teach young stars about their nature and instincts before. They wondered if they’d be any good at it. They shook their head and forced the thoughts of their charge’s future training aside. Now was not the time for distractions.

Solaris extended their essence and gently probed the outskirts of Sol’s mind. It was unusually calm compared to the usual hurricane of thoughts and emotions. They frowned and dug deeper, careful not to damage the developing mind. Solaris wasn’t the only intruder in Sol’s psyche. It was so faint they could barely register it, but there was another presence in the young star’s mind. It lacked any refinement and was driven by instinct, but it was there. Solaris hummed as they probed the unknown presence. It was clearly distressed, calling out as young ones do when they’re hurt. They weren’t certain of where it was coming from, but Sol answered the question soon enough.

The smaller star gently rested their hand on the protostar’s surface before speaking. “Don’t worry, little sibling”. Solaris’s eyes widened as the panic eased and the foreign mind cried out in relief. It was coming from the protostar? They stilled as they attempted to process the information. It really shouldn’t be all that surprising. Just because the protostar wasn’t yet aware of its existence or surroundings didn’t mean it hadn’t absorbed enough cosmic energy to begin developing consciousness. Solaris’s siblings had sworn they’d felt something coming from them shortly before they had ignited. They’d thought their siblings were pranking them, but evidently not.

“I’ll help you,” Sol continued, breaking the crimson star from their thoughts. Help them? How? Solaris hummed in interest as the smaller star closed their eyes in concentration and glowed brighter than they’d ever seen them before. What were they doing? Oh No. No no no no no! Solaris gripped their hair in panic as they realized what the younger star intended to do. Sol wasn’t old enough to begin energy manipulation! They could seriously hurt themselves, but interrupting risked hurting them more. Solaris didn’t have a choice but to watch and attempt to negate the damage as much as possible.

They felt Sol separate the barest sliver of their essence and force it into the protostar. As soon as they did so, their eyes cleared and widened in alarm. The two stars only had moments to get clear, and they both knew it. The younger star quickly yanked their hand from the protostar’s surface, slammed their eyes closed, and curled into a tight ball. Solaris raised their arms to shield themselves and closed their own eyes. They reacted just in time before the protostar ignited in a brilliant explosion of heat and light, sending out a shockwave that forced the surrounding clouds away. The Sol System had just gained a new star.

Solaris turned to check on Sol just in time to watch them collapse. They hurriedly rushed to the white star to assess the severity of the damage. A cursory examination revealed that the younger had suffered no permanent physical damage, escaping with only superficial burns and a severe case of burnout. They’d be fine with a little rest. Solaris would check their mind and essence for damage later. Scooping the exhausted youngster into their hands, they pivoted to face the new star.

The newly born star was smaller than expected but glowed with a crimson light much brighter than Solaris’s red hue. Their hair floated loosely around their head, framing their narrow features and long lashes. Like their older sibling, they were beautiful, but this one had a cold kind of beauty, the kind that was fraught with danger. The newly ignited star looked around with childish wonder as Sol once had, but rather than appreciating the cosmos’ beauty, they were calculating both potential dangers and things they could be dangerous too.

Solaris’s lips twitched upward into a feral grin. This star was more calculating than their older sibling. Despite their small size, they would be a force to be reckoned with someday. The new star reminded them of Bellona in a way. Both had the calculating gaze of predators, albeit this one was young and inexperienced. This star knew they had power and the innate knowledge of the universe and its hierarchy at their fingertips. They knew that stars were born to rule, to guard, and above all to burn and to burn brightly.

The universe belonged to stars. It was their domain, and everyone else was either their subjects or their prey. Even other stars stayed in their territories and systems with their siblings, lest they incur another star’s wrath. To challenge a star more powerful than yourself was a death sentence. Kindness was not in their nature. A pity that Sol hadn’t learned that yet; they were far too empathetic, but they will. Solaris would see to their education. Stars were predators after all. Sol couldn’t resist their true nature forever.

Chapter Text

Solaris sighed in relief as they withdrew their essence from Sol’s mind. They had just finished checking the smaller star’s psyche and essence for damage, and they were mostly satisfied with the results. It was difficult to tell due to the Sol’s mind not being fully developed, but as far as Solaris could tell, the white star had suffered no permanent damage from the ignition event. Sol had incurred some minor core damage from energy manipulation and a few torn psychic connections, but it was nothing; time and rest wouldn’t heal as long as Sol didn't overexert themselves.

Thank the universe, they thought. Scowling in annoyance, they glared without much heat at the young star's unconscious body. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are?" They hissed, struggling to keep from grinding their teeth. It wouldn't be wise to damage one of their strongest offensive and defensive tools. You could have collapsed your core or ripped your mind and essence to shreds with the stunt you just pulled! They gingerly poked the smaller star with a fingertip. "You can not avoid us forever. Your sibling wishes to meet you. Wake up, Sol."

As expected, the white star gave no response. Solaris’s anger slowly faded into the familiar concern for their charge’s well-being. Sol had been unconscious for a while now. They didn’t want to admit it, especially to the newest star, but it worried them that Sol hadn’t stirred. They hadn’t suffered any severe injuries, so why hadn’t they woken up yet?

A crimson glow from the corner of their vision reminded them that they had more than just Sol to care for now. Solaris tilted their head to check on the ruby star as they hunted for asteroids to practice with. The new star called themself Nemesis. Unlike their elder sibling, Nemesis asked few questions upon igniting, assuming that Solaris would explain anything of importance. They were far more cautious than Sol and spent most of their time patrolling the edges of their nursery or exploring their allotted corner of space.

Solaris got the impression that Nemesis generally preferred solitude. Their guardian respected that unspoken wish and, for the most part, left the youngest star to their own devices, checking on them only occasionally. Solaris has enough to deal with without keeping constant surveillance on Nemesis. They had been busy adjusting the new binary system’s orbits to ensure the siblings didn’t collide and getting Nemesis acquainted with their existence since their ignition.

Solaris brushed their shoulder-length hair out of their face as they finished the final orbital adjustment. Once they had sufficiently double-checked their work, they allowed themselves to relax. “Finally,” They mumbled, exhaling a tired sigh. “The new system is stable, and there’s a minimal chance of Sol and Nemesis colliding.”

Glancing around reassured the guardian that there were no other major risks to the developing binary system. “The Sol system is progressing nicely. There are no nearby giants or black holes to disturb it gravitationally, and there’s not enough material to form any more stars. That means I no longer have to worry about adjusting orbits for new stars, thankfully. If planets eventually form, it won't be my responsibility to watch over them and set their orbits.”

A sharp pain erupted in their core, and they curled their arms into their chest, face twisted in unspoken agony. “I’ll be long gone by then anyway.” It was an unfortunate but inescapable fact for stars. They did not last forever, and they were never blessed with a peaceful death. Solaris wasn't naïve enough to think that they were the exception.

Their once lovely whitish-orange glow had already faded into a dull red, and even that was dimming. Solaris had long since run out of hydrogen to fuse and was on the very last of their helium reserves. Their core was growing colder every cycle, and the chill from their cooling core had spread from their torso out to the ends of their limbs. It was getting increasingly difficult to muster the energy to do anything and keep themselves from falling into the feral state brought on by a dying core’s hunger.

Another hunger pain wracked their body as Solaris’s core cried out for fuel. The ever-growing urge to hunt for a fuel source and devour it flared as their essence twisted in hunger. The inescapable instinct to feed screamed at them to track down a fuel source even as their protective nature demanded they stay and protect the younger stars. Grimacing, Solaris rubbed at their temples, a headache forming from their conflicting instincts. At best, they had a cycle before the urge to feed overwhelmed them, and they lost control of themselves. After that, they would go supernova without additional fuel.

Desperately trying to shove the knowledge of their impending demise to the back of their mind, they looked back at the stars they had been tasked with guiding and caring for. Unconsciously, Solaris ran their tongue over the tips of their fangs as they slightly emerged from their hiding place in front of Solaris’s other teeth. Two sources of hydrogen and helium were right there, easily within hunting range. It would be so simple to just pick up the smaller stars and rid themselves of the hunger gnawing at their essence. On instinct, they reached out with their claws already extending. Moments later, Solaris realized what they were doing and yanked their arm back towards them, horrified at their actions.

“NO!” They (mentally) screamed. Solaris gritted their teeth and forced their fangs back into hiding. They refused to even entertain the thought of ever harming the children under their care. Even their mind was betraying them, but Solaris would not allow themselves to be ruled by hunger. They would never forgive themselves if Sol and Nemesis were hurt, especially if it was by their hand.

“Control yourself!” They hissed, digging their claws into their palms until plasma dripped from the cuts. “How could I even consider doing something so barbaric? I would never hurt them. If another fuel source comes within range, I won’t hesitate. But I will not harm the children. I refuse to lay a single claw on their cores as long as I live. I will not allow myself to become like Bellona.”

The thought of the blue supergiant pulled them from their spiraling thoughts. What was it that detestable excuse for a star had told them? “Report back when the M-class ignites,” they recalled. Well, it seemed the universe had it out for them. Thoroughly cursing the blue star’s existence, they contemplated when to report Nemesis’s ignition. Bellona was not a patient star, nor would they forgive disobedience.

Solaris doubted they could fail to report without fatal consequences, but they could delay it a little if they were careful. If they wanted to keep Bellona’s attention off this system, they had to choose their words carefully. After considering their options, they decided it was best to wait before reporting back. Not only would it give them valuable time to formulate a response, but they suspected Bellona would initiate a psychic attack if they reported too little information. Bellona would take any opportunity to harass smaller stars, and they preferred to avoid that outcome. Solaris would report back once they had gathered sufficient information.

Decision made, Solaris focused back on their assigned system. They watched Nemesis for a while as they patrolled the edges of their nursery, ruby eyes hard as they scanned for threats. The smallest star periodically returned to Sol’s side to attempt to wake them or simply talk to their unconscious sibling. A fond smile tugged at the corners of Solaris’s lips. They had quickly become fond of the (slightly bloodthirsty) red star and resolved to help them hone their skills as they would for Sol.

Nemesis reminded Solaris of Cosmo’s younger days, but with some of their own traits mixed in. The youngest star was naturally suspicious of anything outside the tiny section of the universe allotted to them. They were more of a solitary star but undeniably vicious when something threatened them or something they cared about. Nemesis had made it clear to Solaris that they would protect their space from invasion and their older sibling from anything that dared to potentially harm them.

Nemesis was the type of star to hold a grudge, and Solaris doubted they would easily forgive any slights. They had expressed a wish for their guardian to teach them offensive (as well as defensive capabilities) once they were a little older, and were undeniably the more aggressive of the siblings, though they were smart in how they handled it. With enough practice, Nemesis would grow to be a formidable opponent despite their small size.

The crimson star differed from their sibling in a few key ways. Where Sol tended to be driven by emotion, Nemesis excelled at keeping a cool head. They were precise and calculated in their attacks, always thinking three moves ahead of any opponent. What they lacked in raw power, Nemesis more than made up for in combat intelligence. At least, that’s what Solaris expected to see from the small star once they began fighting.

They hummed in thought as they compared the stellar siblings. That wasn’t the only difference between the two young stars. Sol was expressive with their emotions and didn’t understand subtlety. They claimed that honesty was best in any situation, even if it hurt the other party’s feelings, and that you should let others know what you thought of things if it was appropriate to share.

However, Nemesis recognized the value of small lies and tended to keep their opinions quiet unless they were asked for. That wasn’t to say that Sol was without emotional intelligence. The white star was brilliant at recognizing what others were feeling and empathizing. They were excellent at comforting others, but they just struggled to know when they were supposed to keep their thoughts to themselves sometimes.

The two stars were nearly polar opposites in their personalities, but they shared the same drive to protect what they cared about and a tendency to overthink things. Although they may be different, Solaris could tell that they complemented each other perfectly. Both stars were extremely intelligent and good problem solvers, even if their strengths lay in different areas.

Sol would help teach Nemesis to understand and process emotions healthily, and Nemesis would help teach Sol to approach things with a clear mind and rational behavior. Solaris guessed that once Sol regained consciousness, the two younger stars would quickly become inseparable, as most stellar siblings tended to do. The two stars would balance each other out, and Solaris had no doubt they would grow to be excellent caretakers of their system.

The eldest star knew both of their charges had enormous potential, though they weren’t entirely sure what abilities they would develop. Both stars were too young to begin developing any mental communication abilities, much less their energy manipulation skills. It was nothing short of a miracle that Sol managed to pull it off and survive the attempt with only minor injuries. Still, Solaris enjoyed estimating which field their charges would lean toward, and there were plenty of subtle clues for them to examine.

Sol was immediately able to pick up on Nemesis’s mental distress call, even though it was weak enough that Solaris struggled to detect it. The fact that they were drawn in at all, much less so strongly, was a good indication that Sol would develop a powerful mental presence and other psychic skills. They would likely be able to send and receive messages for hundreds of light years and eventually manipulate memories with enough practice. They would also probably develop the skill to instantaneously differentiate between minds, no small task considering the sheer number of stars to pick through.

On the other hand, Nemesis’s iron willpower, calculating intelligence, and innate talent were all necessary to be skilled at energy manipulation. If they wished it and put in the effort, Nemesis had the potential to become immensely talented in energy manipulation. With enough work, they’d be able to form and shape objects from their essence and even gift them to others without the objects dissolving.

Still, the two weren’t mutually exclusive. Both stars had the traits required to master both abilities should they put in the effort. Given how long both siblings would live to practice them, Solaris knew they would be an unbeatable team some cycle.

Solaris greatly looked forward to watching their charges grow into themselves and hone their skills until they no longer had a choice but to leave them. They knew they couldn’t escape their fate. That wouldn’t stop them from enjoying their remaining time doing what they loved and being the guardian those children deserved. Solaris would gladly spend the rest of their life with Sol and Nemesis. Those two were the best things to happen to them in a long time.

Chapter Text

Solaris watched as Sol seized in their sleep. The young star’s limbs spasmed, and their eyelids fluttered erratically as they thrashed. Solaris made no move to intervene; Nemesis was handling the issue. The ruby star had Sol’s head in their lap and wrists in an iron grip as the white star struggled, plasma leaking out from between their lips. Their glow flickered wildly, occasionally repeating the pattern indicating severe distress. Solaris looked as Nemesis pleaded for them to wake up to escape from whatever was tormenting them.

The Guardian star could no longer deny the obvious. Something was very wrong with Sol. Initially, they had dismissed the violent thrashing as coincidental, perhaps caused by bad dreams. If only that were true. Sol hadn’t woken from their sleep since the ignition, only stirring due to violent seizures. Solaris may have been wrong to dismiss their injuries as superficial, but there was nothing physically wrong with the younger star. The burns they’d sustained from the explosion had long since healed, and the psychic connections were beginning to knit themselves back together. Even Sol’s core was beginning to heal. Everything was fine. So why were they ill? Why hadn’t Sol woken up?

Solaris hated to admit it, but they hadn’t been as thorough when checking Sol’s mind for damage as they should’ve been. In their defense, Sol had already strained their essence by igniting Nemesis, and further probing might have caused it to fray or even tear. They had a reason not to look beyond the surface layer of their psyche for damage, so why did they feel so guilty?

Cautiously, the oldest star brushed the barest sliver of their essence across Sol’s. The effect was instantaneous. The young star’s body stilled for a moment, and their features twisted in an expression of pure agony. Tears leaked from beneath their eyelids before the most heartbreaking scream they’d heard in ages wrenched itself from their throat. Sol’s thrashing resumed even more violently than before as if they were trying to escape their sibling’s hold.

Nemesis hissed in frustration as they redoubled their efforts to keep their sibling pinned down. “What did you do?” They shrieked at the guardian. “I almost had them pinned! Sol’s latest fit was almost over. What in the stars' dammed universe did you do?” Solaris hunched their shoulders in apology. “I was attempting to figure out what was causing their…. Condition. There might be some mental wounds I didn’t notice when I first checked, and I wanted to take another look. I didn’t do anything notable, only a faint brush of my essence along theirs. Even that little touch was enough to worsen their condition.”

Nemesis growled at them, their surface flaring in irritation. Solaris let it go. The youngest star was understandably stressed, so they would allow this brief disrespect. However, they might not be so forgiving if they continue this behavior in the future. “Well? Did you figure out what’s wrong with them? I haven’t even met Sol yet, the most I know about them is how to pin them down during seizures!” Nemesis snarled; voice loaded with enough venom to fell an O-class star. Solaris raised an eyebrow.

“Watch your tongue, Nemesis. I know you’re upset, but you need to remember to respect your elders.” Nemesis scowled but reigned in their glow until it was something that could pass as normal if it weren't for their eyes revealing barely contained fury. “Better. But to answer your question, no, I didn’t. I didn’t go further than a simple tap on their essence, I didn’t get nearly deep enough to identify any wounds. I’m upset with Sol’s illness too, but for the moment, I don’t know how to heal them. If I’m being honest, it might be time to ask the other stars for help despite some of their more…. Unsavory tendencies.”

Sol chose that moment to fall limp as if the strings of their gravity had suddenly been cut. It felt wrong to see the normally excitable child so still. Solaris knew that time was quickly running out if they wanted to heal Sol. It might already be too late to restore them completely, but the largest star refused to give up now. They would not see their oldest charge die. Even if Sol would be forever scarred, Solaris wanted them to be aware, even if that meant suffering. Their death was out of the question.

Yes, Solaris would have to ask other stars for help. It was the last thing they wanted to do, as other stars could easily take advantage of the situation, but they didn’t have any other options. Sighing in resignation, they took Sol from Nemesis and gently but firmly held them in a fist, negating the thrashing star’s ability to move. Nemesis trembled with exhaustion as they were relieved of having to immobilize the white star. “You couldn’t have done that earlier?” They snarked, still irritated with the oldest star.

Solaris smiled. Despite everything, Nemesis still had their sharp tongue. “You had it under control. You’re going to have to get used to dealing with Sol’s fits eventually if I can’t get them healed. Best to learn how to do it now, in case something happens.” Nemesis frowned. “In case something happens? You said we have more time.” Solaris nodded. “We do. I’ve still got at least three-quarters of a cycle until I have to leave, but the universe is unpredictable. I want you two to be prepared if something happens.”

Solaris spent more time worrying over hypotheticals than they cared to admit. Compared to them, the stellar siblings were minuscule. Sol was barely the size of one of their teeth, and Nemesis was even smaller. So many things could happen to them. No matter how unlikely the scenario, Solaris still wanted the two to be able to handle and defend themselves. The chance of a stellar encounter was low, but never zero.

“I’ll handle Sol from here, Nemesis. You go patrol or do whatever you wish. I’m going to try to fix this.” Nemesis nodded, eyes hard as diamonds. “See that you do. If Sol dies, I will never forgive you.” Solaris recognized the threat and marveled at the audacity of the smallest star. “Do not think that you can threaten me, Nemesis. You are young, inexperienced, and far less massive than I am. But do not worry. I have no desire to see Sol suffer.” Nemesis clenched their hands into fists, scarlet glow brightening for a moment. “I understand, guardian.” The crimson star spat their title out as if it were rotten. “I’ll take my leave.” Without further dramatics, the smallest star floated back toward their orbit.

Solaris suspected that Nemesis blamed them for Sol’s unresponsive state. They supposed it was easier for Nemesis than blaming themselves. Nemesis had been the one to lure Sol into the nursery. They had been the one to burn the other with their ignition. Being angry at their guardian was less painful than feeling guilty. Solaris watched the smallest star reach their orbit and violently flare into the abyss of space. Nemesis was young and hot-tempered. Low-class stars were typically more violent than their larger counterparts, flaring brightly and often. The red star’s aggressive nature was not atypical for their size. It didn’t matter anyway. Nemesis could do nothing to Solaris.

Deeming the youngest star far enough away, the eldest turned their attention back to the issue at hand. Solaris did not know how to determine what was causing Sol’s seizures, nor how to cure them. That meant they had to ask other stars in the hopes that this had happened before and the knowledge was recorded. The one in charge of the records this cycle was Bellona, so they would be the logical choice, but the blue supergiant’s malevolent nature made them reluctant to reach out.

Solaris’ mental communication abilities weren’t advanced enough to reach over ten light years, and there were few stars within that range. Barnard was close enough, but was currently dormant and thus unreachable. That left the Alpha Centauri system and its stars Proxima Centauri, Rigil Kentaurus, and Toliman. The Centauri system was their only viable option, but which star should they contact?

Proxima, as the eldest, had the system named after them despite being the smallest in their system. They were a red dwarf M-class star and thus long-lived and suffered from violent flares. What made Proxima so unusual was that they are the oldest and gentlest of the three. The smallest stars were generally born last, and Proxima was known to be nonaggressive unless provoked, and the main caretaker for the system’s planets. There was a good chance that Proxima would know something, being 77,272,727.3 cycles old (.85 billion Earth years) and having taken a turn with the records once before. But there was still Proxima’s siblings’ influence to consider.

Rigil was the second oldest, being only half a cycle younger than Proxima. Like Sol, they are a G2 class star but slightly bigger and brighter. Rigil is the most massive and luminous of the Centauri siblings and the third brightest star from Sol’s orbit. They have a reputation for being slightly malicious to smaller stars and their planets when Proxima isn’t looking. But Rigil seems to draw the line at causing serious injury, as they were never reported to go further than insults and the occasional gravity nudge. Rigil would likely be slightly concerned at Sol’s condition, but was unlikely to provide aid.

Finally, there was Toliman. They are a high K-class star and are renowned for their gorgeous orange glow. Toliman was the youngest of the Centauri siblings and brighter than Proxima, but wasn’t even close to Rigil’s luminosity. They’re only barely beating out Sol in terms of brightness, but they made up for it by spewing out X-rays. Toliman is a cycle younger than Rigil and rumored to mimic their sibling in most things, likely to try and impress them. They look down on those smaller than them, and like most stars, treat their planets as pets or servants. Toliman is also unlikely to help Solaris but would be more sympathetic than Rigil.

Proxima is their best option for helping Sol if their siblings don’t talk them out of it. They are a peaceful star and always hear all sides of an argument before making a decision. Solaris respects Proxima for that, but it’s possible that Rigil and Toliman would convince Proxima not to help, if Proxima even could in the first place. The Centauri system is fairly isolated and rarely engages with other star systems outside of mandatory surveys. It was still infinitely better than asking Bellona for help, so the Centauri siblings it is.

Solaris ran their fingers through their hair and felt the tiny braids Sol had woven into the strands. They didn’t want to do this, but it was their only option. This was for the star that had comforted them more times than they could count and helped piece their fractured psyche together. This was for the one who lit up the galaxy with their smile and was too empathetic for their own good. This was for the child who had filled a hole in Solaris’s core that they hadn’t even been aware of and whose laughter was like music. This was for Sol.

Chapter Text

Solaris cradled the unconscious Sol in their hands as they inspected them for damage. Their latest seizure had finally ended, and Sol’s hair was tangled from the struggle. Solaris clicked their tongue as they wondered how to fix that. They were too big to untangle the knots, and Nemesis was livid. Solaris would have to wait for them to calm before the smallest star could comb it, but that wasn’t the only thing that might be wrong with Sol. They lightly ran their fingertips over the younger star’s limbs, checking for injuries before stopping at the ends of their arms. Five puncture wounds circled each wrist, plasma leaking from the deepest ones.

It was obvious what they were from, but it still twisted their core in fury. Seeing their charge hurt awakened something violent within them; their very being screamed to protect the young ones. They forced their more primal impulses to the back of their mind and leaned down to assess the wounds. Nemesis’ fingernails had dug deep into their sibling's wrists as they fought to keep them pinned and had drawn plasma in the process. Even worse was that Solaris couldn’t heal the wounds. Doing so would require touching Sol’s essence, and the last time they’d tried that, it had worsened Sol’s seizures.

If the guardian star wanted to help their oldest charge, they needed to ask for help. They had already decided that Sol’s nearest neighbor, Proxima Centauri, was the best candidate, but they had to choose their words carefully. Proxima never involved their system in affairs that didn’t concern them and was wary of outsiders.

That’s not even mentioning Rigil and Toliman. Those two were constantly bullying those they deemed inferior, and smaller stars were constantly complaining of their antics. Rigil was always vying for Proxima’s position as system leader, but the red dwarf wasn’t allowing it. Rigil and Toliman were pains in the core, but they weren’t cruel. With the right argument and a touch of manipulation, Solaris could probably persuade the three younger stars to at least consider their case.

Solaris forced themselves to refocus. They couldn’t afford to get distracted. Sol wasn’t going to get better on their own. Time between their fits was shrinking, and they were getting more severe. Nemesis had even worried that Sol was dimming. The ruby star had claimed that their sibling's radiant rays were darker than they had been since their ignition.

Stars only dim when their cores are damaged to the point that they can no longer channel enough energy to produce light. Their vision wasn’t as good as it used to be, and Solaris couldn’t see the change in Sol’s luminosity, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. Time was running out. Solaris would rather claw out their core than let Sol die, even if they were forced to rely on other stars.

Solaris tried to force their anxiety away. Toliman was particularly skilled in sensing emotions and wouldn’t hesitate to use their worry against them. If Solaris wanted to secure the Centauri stars' help, they had to keep a clear head. They smoothed down their hair and stopped upon feeling their braids. Sol’s handiwork was visible as a starburst of braids artfully styled across their head. Each braid was woven with the others, forming beautiful patterns in their hair.

They were starting to fray. Strands of hair were slipping out of their arrangement, and they would have to have the braids redone. “If Sol dies, these braids would be the only proof that they had ever lived at all,” they thought. “Nemesis is so young; they might not remember Sol in a few million cycles.” They couldn’t imagine a life without the younger star. Just considering the possibility of such a future was enough to make their core churn uncomfortably. “I’ll never hear Sol laugh again. Never see them smile again.”

Solaris’ thoughts spiraled even as they tried to calm themselves. “Will I forget what they look like? Will the moment come when I can no longer recall the exact shape of Sol’s eyes and the intensity of their light? Will I not remember their trusting gaze as they rest in my palm? Forget the way their surface flares with every emotion, and how they dance across the cosmos?” They blinked back tears.

Solaris had already lost so much. Their guardian star, siblings, planets, and friends. Everyone they had ever loved had already passed on, and Solaris was going to join them soon. The universe couldn’t take Sol from them, too. Solaris didn’t think they would survive another loss. They balled their fists in defiance of such a thing ever coming to pass. “I refuse to allow that. I’ll scour space for anything that might help them and won’t take no for an answer. I’ll scream my anguish to the universe itself until it helps us and beg the galaxy for mercy.”

Determination filled the dying star, and they wiped their tears away. Now wasn’t the time for crying. They had to contact Proxima. Solaris dropped their hand to their side and folded their legs underneath themselves. They closed their eyes and straightened their back. This conversation could either give Sol a chance at recovery or condemn them to a painful death. Every moment they waited, Sol grew weaker, and they could not lose any more time. No more delays.

Solaris’ essence coiled inside them, and they extended a tendril of it across space. Carefully, they guided it to the Centauri System, not reaching out just yet. Three distinct minds shone above the rest. Solaris hovered just on the outskirts of their psychic fields, close enough to peer in, but not quite touching. The first mind was a blazing orange and constantly reaching out to touch the others. It burned with arrogance, but tentative care was buried underneath. “This,” Solaris guessed, “is Rigil’s mind.”

Another was a bright white, but didn’t shine with quite the same fervor as the orange one. It was calmer and restrained. It stayed constricted and didn’t send out threads to touch the others. “This one seems like Toliman's,” they mused. The last mind was smaller than the others, but undeniably the most powerful of the three. Its essence was spread across the system and curled protectively around every other mind there. It shone red and was brighter than any other in the system. “This one must be Proxima’s. The rest of the presences in this system are dim and fragile.” They weren’t worth their notice and must belong to the system’s planets."

Solaris’s glow flickered uncertainly. They had identified Proxima’s psychic presence, but what was the best way to initiate contact? They’d never met the red dwarf, and didn’t know how they would respond to a request for help. There was no way to know for certain. Their best option was to take it slow and try to avoid offending the eldest Centauri star. Solaris couldn’t afford to mess this up.

They extended the thread of their essence and gently touched the outside of Proxima’s mind, wordlessly requesting entry. Solaris took care to avoid touching their mental defenses when establishing the connection. They didn’t want to appear as if they were going to force their way inside. Such an approach would likely infuriate Proxima, and the conversation would go nowhere. They had to avoid hostilities. Solaris felt the exact moment Proxima registered their presence.

Surprise overtook the connection and was quickly broadcast back to them before it was overridden by caution. Solaris wasn’t surprised at the response. Proxima wasn’t stupid. They were well aware of their low ranking, and any sane star would want to avoid bringing a higher star’s wrath upon their system. Proxima wouldn’t be strong enough to fight them off, so they would remain polite. If the eldest Centauri star’s siblings had their intelligence, however….

“Greetings, Proxima Centauri. I am Solaris, assigned guardian to Stellar Nursery 134,” they sent.” It was polite to introduce yourself when mentally reaching out to another star, and communicating that they were a guardian would indicate their status. You had to be well over a hundred thousand cycles to qualify as a nursery guardian and be powerful enough to defend it if needed. Proxima’s response was as expected, guarded but not outright hostile. Solaris could work with that.

“Hello Solaris. What brings a nursery guardian to contact me?” Proxima hadn’t bothered to exchange pleasantries but was careful to remain cordial. Solaris had already demonstrated that they knew their name and position as guardian of their system in their address, and that suited the older star fine. They weren't looking for polite conversation either. The sooner they got Sol the help they needed, the better.

“My nursery is experiencing an issue. As you had access to the records once, I suspect you might have information that can help.” Solaris tried to phrase the request as diplomatically as possible. If Proxima suspected ulterior motives, they would get their siblings involved and force Solaris to look elsewhere. Even with such an address, it was still possible that Proxima would refuse. Solaris had to rely on hope now.

Proxima sent a hint of surprise and wariness through the connection, but there was an undercurrent of understanding. “Very well. I will hear your request, guardian, but what kind of issue could you be facing that requires my help? From what I remember, a K-class star like yourself wouldn’t deign to ask an M-class for assistance.”

Proxima had a point. Most higher-ranking stars were too prideful to associate with lower-ranked ones, and Solaris hadn’t been an exception. They were only requesting help now because they were out of options, and Bellona would probably mock at best, instead of helping. They weren’t about to admit that to Proxima, though. Offending the younger star wouldn’t be wise.

Solaris was about to reply, hoping to diffuse the situation, when two new presences joined the conversation. Rigil’s blazing orange signature formed its own connection with Proxima, and thus Solaris followed closely by Toliman. Solaris tried to keep their agitation from seeping into the connection. Rigil and Toliman wouldn’t be nearly as aggregable as Proxima. This was supposed to be a quick conversation, a simple exchange of information. The other Centauri siblings' presence complicated things. Solaris would have to rethink their approach if Proxima couldn’t wrangle their siblings.

“Is someone bothering you, dear Proxima?” Rigil’s voice grated on them, unpleasantly pitched as it was. Toliman’s presence was silent, as if the youngest star wanted to fade into the background. They hovered on the perimeter of the conversation’s field, a silent observer. Solaris understood the implication. It was a good tactic to have an observer, someone to raise the alarm in case of an attack while the others were engrossed in negotiations. Toliman would not interfere unless necessary or was directly asked to do so. Good. That meant they only had to deal with one unexpected arrival instead of two.

Proxima’s discontent was clear, annoyance rippling across the connection. “Rigil Kentaurus,” the crimson star responded. “I don’t recall inviting you to this conversation. This is a matter between guardians.” Solaris couldn’t resist the impulse to poke at the temperamental younger star. “I see your sibling is as charming as ever, Proxima. Are they still picking fights?” Rigil’s response was immediate, red-hot anger tainting the tethers of communication. Honesty, youngsters these days are so easy to rile up. Did no one teach them self-control? “This doesn’t concern you, outsider,” they hissed. “Go back to your system. Your presence is unwanted.”

Proxima’s presence clamped down on Rigil, preventing them from continuing. “Behave yourself, Rigil. That is no way to address a nursery guardian. This is a serious matter.” Their voice was colored with warning. Proxima needed this to go well as much as Solaris did, and they couldn’t let their sibling ruin negotiations. “Listen to your sibling, little one,” Solaris advised.

The nickname they affectionately gave Sol was easily turned condescending. “They are trying to protect you. Have you forgotten your etiquette?” Rigil’s responding snarl only served to prove their point. They were lucky Solaris needed something from them and was obligated to remain cordial. They rarely tolerated such blatant disrespect. Rigil bristled but ultimately settled down, relinquishing the diplomatic talk to Proxima.

To their credit, the smallest star recovered the conversation quickly. “As you were saying before the interruption, Solaris? What sort of issue is your nursery experiencing?” The only benefit to Rigil and Toliman’s intrusion was that Proxima seemed to have disregarded the previous chain of conversation. “One of my charges was injured, and the usual methods of healing are proving ineffective. I wish to request any information you might have on their condition and how to cure it.”

Proxima preventively silenced Rigil, cutting off their scathing comments. “May the universe bless your charge. What sort of issues are they having? I’ll require as many details as possible to accurately determine what ails them, and even then, I may not know. However, I pledge to assist you to the best of my ability in this matter.” Proxima was opting to take the safest option then. Refusing to help risked bringing Solaris’s wrath upon their system, but they had worded the promise of assistance so that they would not be obliged to assist outside of providing information and only concerning this specific interaction. It was a delicate balance, and it was the elder star’s turn to affect it.

“Your pledge is recognized and accepted. In turn, I vow not to disrupt your system or engage in hostilities unless provoked. Your system will come under no threats from me.” This response was carefully crafted. It fulfilled their polite obligations but made it clear that it wasn’t wise to threaten them. Solaris was the more powerful star here. Even if they had to be careful, they weren’t to be trifled with. “Now that the formalities are out of the way, I can answer your questions, but it might prove beneficial to provide context first.”

Proxima’s approval pulsed across the connection, and Solaris knew they had made an ally in the eldest Centauri star. A partnership had been established, and Solaris noted that for future use. “Agreed, guardian. Having all the information will make identifying your charge’s problem easier.” Solaris sent their agreement, complimenting Proxima as they did so. “Indeed. You are wise beyond your years. In time, you will become an excellent nursery guardian.” Proxima was a young star and would live long. Their service would be required sooner or later. It wasn’t optional.

Stars were dying at a heightened rate as the older generation passed and were being formed less and less. The universe’s expansion made it so that unless a sizable event like a supernova occurred within twenty light years of a developing nursery, new stars were unlikely to form. Sol and Nemesis’ birth had been the first stellar ignitions for nearly fifty cycles and was only possible with another star’s death. An old A-class star, Nova, had taken after their namesake as the nursery was forming. The explosion had been intense enough to cause the cloud to collapse in on itself and begin forming clumps that would eventually ignite into the stellar siblings.

Proxima preened at the compliment, bursts of happiness and pride rippling across the tether. Rigil and Toliman’s presences were silent, but burned with jealousy. Solaris noted the reaction. The younger siblings were jealous of the older's wit and position. With Proxima being the smallest and physically weakest of the three, a challenge might occur soon…. But that wasn’t any of their concern. Proxima showed promise as an ally, but they wouldn’t concern themselves with the Centauri system’s governance. It was simply outside their jurisdiction.

“Sol is the star I contacted you about. They’re a little over half a cycle old and unusually empathetic. As is normal for infant stars, they enjoy exploring and practicing their abilities and show great promise in mental communication. Sol is a G2-class star like Rigil, but will be slightly smaller and dimmer once they’re full-grown. As for how they were injured…. That’s difficult to explain. It might be best to show you, and you only. I mean no disrespect, but I don’t trust your siblings not to cause Sol further injury, even by accident.”

If Proxima was offended at the slight to their younger siblings, they didn’t show it. “I understand your position and agree that sharing the memory will be better than inadequately explaining the cause of injury. However, I won’t allow Rigil and Toliman’s exclusion. We do this with all of us or not at all.” Solaris bit their tongue to keep from broadcasting their irritation. “Very well. I will respect your choice. I recommend you prepare yourselves.”

Transferring memories was a delicate and intimate process. You had to forge deep connections to implant, manipulate, and share memories, and Solaris’ tether to the Centauri siblings was shallow, only usable for conversations. They’re hesitant to share their consciousness with Rigil and Toliman, but they had little choice if they wanted Proxima’s aid. At least they had the three’s consent. Solaris did not wish to violate their minds in such a horrible way.

Solaris grasped the tether connecting their mind with Proxima’s and lightly pulled. The Centauri star’s answering tug confirmed they had the correct one and reaffirmed Proxima’s willingness for the transfer. Rigil and Toliman had no direct connection to Solaris, but they did with Proxima, so the eldest sibling could pass it on to them. When Solaris received no protest from the other Centauri stars, they continued the process.

Gently, Solaris deepened their connection with Proxima, who had helpfully lowered their defenses. They burrowed their essence within Proxima’s mind, careful to make the process as painless as possible. Once the connection was deep enough, they focused on the memory of Nemesis’ ignition and gently pushed it along the tether to Proxima, before pulling back. Solaris didn’t want to be any deeper in Proxima’s mind than they had to. They would do so, if necessary, but it was too invasive for their taste.

Distantly, Solaris felt Proxima accept the memory and pass it along to their siblings. Now all that was left to do was wait. Solaris politely withdrew to the edge of the psychic field as Toliman moved up, taking the other’s place as observer. They would give the Centauri siblings time to review and discuss the memory and recall any relevant information. Solaris had done all they could. It was up to them how they would respond.

Eventually, Solaris felt Proxima delicately nudge their mental presence, signaling that the trio had come to a decision and formulated a reply. Solaris nudged their essence back towards the center of the field, and Toliman moved back to accommodate them, returning to the outskirts of the conversation.

“What is your ruling guardian?” They questioned, trying to keep their desperation from their voice. Proxima’s presence dimmed for a moment as if they were nervous. “As much as I sympathize with your plight, I cannot help you very much. Whatever’s happening to Sol is something we’ve never heard of and thus have very little information to give, much less assist in healing.”

Solaris tried to keep themselves from broadcasting their fury. This entire conversation had been almost certainly a waste of time. They had risked exposing Sol’s condition and broadcasting weakness to the rest of the galaxy for nothing. Still, Proxima had implied that there was at least something they could tell them. “I understand,” they sent, careful to keep their tone neutral. “What can you tell me?”

“As you presumably already know, whatever’s wrong with Sol is not physical. It’s an issue with their mind or essence. Most likely, it's their essence as they manipulated it too early.” “I am aware,” Solaris sent, digging their claws into their palms to ground themselves. “As I’ve had no direct contact with Sol, I can’t diagnose anything that might be wrong with them, but I can give you some advice.”

Advice? That was all they could do? Solaris resisted the urge to cut the connection completely or launch a psychic attack for wasting their time. They gently rocked themselves and rhythmically flashed their surface to calm themselves. An emotional outburst could spell catastrophe for the developing system. The Centauri siblings may be nervous, but they have an advantage here. If they wish, they can spread word of Sol’s illness, and that would invite a challenge.

Other stars would hear of Solaris’ failure and seek a challenge, hoping to claim Sol’s territory for themselves. The realization sent fury flooding Solaris’ core, and they bared their fangs as if warding off an invisible threat. They would tear apart whoever DARED to touch their charges and sought their territory. Challenger’s cores would be excellent fuel, and any planets they brought would be fine hunting practice for Nemesis and Sol if they ever awoke.

Solaris forced themselves to calm down and continue the conversation. Any advice, no matter how small, was better than nothing. “What is your advice, Proxima?” A bite to their tongue kept any scorn from leaking into the connection. The taste of plasma had long since grown familiar, and Solaris didn't even flinch as it flowed from the wound.

“I can’t cure your charge, and I’m sorry for that. Neither my siblings nor I have ever heard of such an injury, and I can’t recall reading anything about it in the records, if it's even there. What I can say is that it’s not a physical injury, as previously stated. If you want to determine what ails them, you will have to dig deep into their essence and mind to see if it's shredded or damaged. If their essence is shredded…. You might want to prepare for saying goodbye. No star has ever survived a shredded essence.”

Solaris barely managed to keep their resulting hiss from leaking through to Proxima. Sol would not die. They would not allow it. “I am aware of that, Proxima. Continue.” The oldest Centauri sibling continued speaking as if they hadn’t noticed the interruption. “If you cannot force your essence into them, you’ll need to seek out a star with more power and better access to the necessary information. That means-”

“I know,” Solaris snapped, cutting off the younger star. “I’ll need to talk to Bellona.”