We left Red …
… standing near towering panes of cold aluminum glass on the Advanced Observation Deck … feeling that someone was out there … beyond the glass.
The ship’s low hum thrummed heavier here in the AOD. It was as if the ship itself was holding its breath. Then, without warning, a twinge of dizziness swept over her. Red stepped back with a slight falter that caught the curator’s watchful eye.
He called to her, “Ship’s been a wee bumpy of late. Power surges and all.” He chuckled. “Probably nothing. Ships like this always hum, don't they?”
Red beamed toward someone who already felt like a new friend. The GingySAS squelched her temporary unease and allowed her to return full force to the penetrating stillness before her.
A grander display than she could have ever dreamed. Yet, she felt suddenly small—too small. She trembled at the disquiet.
What if they don’t see me? Hear me?
Beyond the crystal barrier, the universe stretched into a canvas of endless stars and shadows. The lulling drone of the ship faded, and she was left soul-to-soul with the vastness of space and a soft, unshakable resolve in her voice.
“Hear me.”
“I can keep you safe.”
As Red whispered her offer, her vow, she momentarily re-lived Echo’s green flash and reimagined it to be shattered pieces of an ancient tablet—a message—somehow meant for her to piece together. Her promise lingered in the void, then circled back—settling inside her like it had found its home. Her voice may have been small, but those words carried a weight that would follow her for years. Someday, she would find a way to keep her promise—
To them. And to herself.
Her connection to the unreachable expanse was stronger than ever before, though her ponders would not yet let her free.
How did we grow so far apart?
Didn’t we all come from stardust?
If we could grow apart, couldn’t we just grow back together again?
From a distance, Issi ached as he watched the exchange between Red and the stars. His eyes glistened. Never before had he seen such a bright star.
Red reined in her philosophical meander and battened down for business.
Tick-tock.
On went the goggles, and the recordings began. But talk about getting lost in awe …
The expanse before her burst into wild wisps of violet, cobalt, and gold—and a thousand other colors. Vaporous? Or something tangible? Delicate as spider silk, spinning among the stars.
The silky threads glowed and gyrated, pulsing like breath in the dark. But they didn’t just drift—they responded. It was as if they were waiting for Red to finish a sentence that they had started.
Like a language. Patterns waiting to be read.
The threads continued to dance and drum—stirring something deep inside her.
As Red watched, the sheer magnitude of awe overwhelmed her senses. While her eyes strained to comprehend the endless wonder of space, the winking stars and swirling galaxies captured her essence.
She couldn’t see all of it, but she felt the cosmic dance unfolding around her—the chorus of celestial movement resounded in her very bones. We are stardust.
In that second, the air swept up a faint scent of elemental dust. Red inhaled fully—a subtle reminder of connection and all the mysteries that lay beyond her reach.
For now.
As if summoned to respond, she stretched her fingertips toward the universe, tentative but tingling with expectation. Her hand floated closer to the glass and the threads shimmered with …
Recognition? Acceptance? The moment filled with undulating light, moving in time with her breath. It felt like a whisper—soft and uncertain, but unmistakable.
Suddenly, a ghostly warmth enveloped her.
A delicate caress against her skin.
As if the aluminum panes separating her from space had become permeable—letting the universe breathe on her. The sensation was both comforting and unsettling, blurring the boundaries between her own existence and the presence she sensed.
Reality blurred as Red questioned—had something just reached out to her?
But something else nagged at the edges of her awareness.
A shadow?
A flicker of something out of place?
She brushed it aside—until the threads snapped, recoiled.
“No. Please—don’t go.”
A sharp rupture, as if something unseen had slashed through the delicate strands. A foreign glint flickered in the glass—a predator where none should be.
Red flinched at the unexpected appearance, causing the moment to shatter and disappear.
If she could have, she would have walked into an interstellar corridor, straight into the universe, and never looked back.
But there stood Mum.
Next: Episode 7— Through Her Own Eyes
Bonus Content
Curious about the world of Starwoven? Keep yourself busy between episodes with bonus content. Browse the Starwoven Section INDEX for lore notes, character cards, and companion content.
