The stars had never shone so brightly.
On the night the child fell, the sky was alive, ablaze with a brilliance that turned night to day. The stars flickered like candles in celebrations. It was as if the universe itself rejoiced, weaving secrets into the fabric of the galaxy.
Then, a star broke free.
It streaked across the galaxy in a cascade of colors, carving a luminous path through the darkness. It fell.
Deep within an ancient forest, far from the prying eyes of the world, two scientists watched the sky burn. They had been tracking strange activity for weeks, anomalies in the stars, an energy unexplainable to humans. Yet nothing could have prepared them for the moment a light would crash before them, illuminating the forest in a faint flow.
They approached the crash cautiously, their breath caught in their throats. And there, lying amidst the scorched grass, was a child.
A boy.
His hair shimmered, and his eyes held the shape of stars. He did not cry. He did not speak. He only blinked.
The stars above dimmed, as though their celebration had ended. Yet in their quiet retreat, they still lingered, watching.
Waiting
For the boy's story to begin. Or were there more stars to descend.