Astra - -db- Kanata No

It had been eight days since they’d escaped the crumbling remains of the old military base. Eight days since Funicia had cried for a mother who wasn’t coming. Eight days since Kanata had grinned that reckless, impossible grin and said, “We’re going home. Together.”

Behind them, the Astra ’s airlock cycled open. Quitterie’s annoyed voice echoed over the comms: “Are you two having a moment ? Because the atmospheric processor is beeping, and Luca burned the rehydrated eggs again .” -DB- Kanata no Astra

“Then we’ll find a bigger truth,” he said. “That’s the deal. We don’t leave anyone behind. Not in space. Not in the past.” It had been eight days since they’d escaped

She looked at his faceplate. Behind the reflective glare, she could see the shape of his jaw, the scar near his eyebrow he’d gotten from the worm-beast on the forest planet. He was not the same boy who had boarded the Astra five weeks ago. None of them were. Together

Kanata grinned. He tugged Aries’s tether, pulling them both back toward the ship.

The void does not whisper. It does not threaten. That is what Aries Spring feared most as she drifted, tethered by a single silver thread to the rusted hull of the Astra . Below her, the planet they’d named “Shummoor” rotated—a marble of ochre and violet, beautiful and utterly indifferent to the nine teenagers clinging to life above it.

She looked past him, at the endless black sewn with distant, cold stars. It was not the void that defined them. It was the small, fragile arc of light—the Astra —and the nine hearts beating inside it.