Time flies by.

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Another chapter posed, huh?
I wonder how many words I've written, and how much I've improved.
This one's a bit shorter, only 9k words, but I hope you all enjoy it all the same.

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In a tree house built on the tallest tree, up above even certain mountains, gentle humming danced around the room. A lone star worked, weaving a tale of unknown origins. The fake sky beyond the cottage's roof was its constant shade of gold and blue, showing no signs of changing any time soon. Multicolored leaves floated in through the open window, riding a calm breeze. Akin to unexpected yet welcome visitors.

The tree house, decorated like a casual workshop, was tidy and organized. Gems as large as a Star hung on the walls, etched with symbols none but the creator could understand. Books with indecipherable titles were lined up neatly on various shelves. Each held a mystic authority unique to itself.

There were paintings, too. Ones so life-like that one would question if they were facing a piece of artificial art and not a portal into another world. They depicted seemingly random and mundane scenes. A white-haired, long-eared girl extended a hand towards the one admiring the masterpiece. A red-headed girl and a tanned woman with cat features fighting in a courtyard covered with fresh snow using wooden swords. A thin man in royal clothing huddled over a half-finished doll, a young blue-haired maiden sitting a distance away.

Tapestries of silken cloth lined the windows as curtains, and bedsheets and pillowcases were embroidered with arcane patterns.

The owner of the house sat by the desk near the window, half-heartedly humming as he molded a white crystal using nothing bar his hands. Under his watchful gaze, the jewel that was larger than himself seemed to turn soft as clay, bending easily as his fingers glided across its smooth surface. The miraculous thing was that the symbols he was carving weren't only on the crystal tablet's surface but also littered densely inside it. His technique was flawless and sharp, his writings perfect yet illegible.

He looked like a young boy, barely six years old. But that was far from the truth. His light golden hair was combed back, preventing it from covering his emerald eyes, scrunched in concentration. He retracted his hand, seemingly pulling it from inside the crystal. His emerald eyes opened, flashing forest green as he stared intently at the tablet before him.

Each book he wrote was infused with purpose, each tablet etched with meaning. They told of the Star's dreams. Ephemeral and cryptic yet indispensable and cherished. The Star knew they were important to him, yet he didn't know why. So he decided to carve his dreams in stone, write his recollections on paper, and draw and weave his visions into paintings and tapestries. Every single one must be perfect. This one was without exception.

Mystifying ribbons of concepts infused themselves into the newly formed tablet, intangible to all bar the Star. They knitted into the tablet, weaving in between Runes so small and dense even the Eyes of Celestials would have trouble seeing them clearly. Winds picked up in the room, yet everything stayed stable, even the smallest piece of paper not moving an inch. And then, they settled, the concepts interlocking seamlessly with the carvings. The once white and lightless tablet turned clear as water, the Runes within glowing a faint gold.

Anima picked up the newly finished tablet notched with the most recent dream, slashing the air with his index finger. A rift opened, a gate connecting to a universe with infinite dimensions. There was where Anima stored his dreams, leaving only the most special in his treehouse for all to see. A thousand other masterpieces glittered in an endless black abyss, akin to stars that lit up the Sea of Void. He carefully placed the glowing tablet next to his previously finished one, closing the rift in spacetime after he did so.

The young Star moved to the center of his treehouse, where a large, winding stairway was stationed. He descended the staircase, leaving his personal zone of comfort behind. The occasional window was placed by the stairwell, letting in natural light. Glittering purple branches with rainbow leaves grew randomly, like nature's half-hearted attempt at reclaiming what it lost.

He emerged behind a large wooden door plated with gold. The bright light outside was a bit dazzling, but his Celestial Eyes adjusted within a fraction of a second.

He stepped out from his tree, closing the door behind him.

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It's been many years since my rebirth. How many years? Even I don't know the accurate number. I stopped remembering individual years since it takes too much time. Instead, I count my age using millenniums. I turned seven thousand a few hundred years back, and, by how fast time passed, it won't be long before I reach eight thousand.

All this time I've spent in the Outer Rings of Andromeda, unable to leave for Inner Core.

The Andromeda Galaxy has three main mountain ranges, forming three plateaus where most villages and settlements are located. The Inner Core is the smallest of the three plateaus and is where towns are closest to each other. In the shape of a curved bar with pointed ends, the mountains surrounding it are of fairly consistent height.

The remaining two plateaus are less populated but have a larger area. I often wonder why stars don't build more clusters there. Both were curved, like the arms of a spiral originating from near the Inner Core. The mountain ranges surrounding them were tapered. The peaks near the central core were higher than the clouds, yet the ones near the Outer Ring reached barely higher than trees.

Together, the three plateaus formed a spiraling shape. The vast ring around the Galaxy's edges was called the Outer Ring. Being the least populated yet the most peaceful, it was a common place for the older Stars who desired some time away from the hustle and bustle of life.

The Galaxy I currently call home was small compared to the other clusters I heard about, being only 220,000 light-years across. It should have been easy to cross the mountains from the Outer Ring into one of the arms of the plateaus, considering Pollux walked 2.5 million light years in seven days, but things were never that simple.

Pollux used something she called the "Second Miracle" to move through Deepsapce so quickly, yet it could only be used in Deepspace alone. Remember that golden barrier around the entire Galaxy? That basically prevents any Stars from using the mystics known as "Miracles."

In the Astral Realms, "Miracles" are the most powerful among magics. There were six in total, though only five were named. The First Miracle birthed the Universe, the Second Miracle expanded the Universe into a Multiverse, the Third Miracle birthed all life, and the Fourth Miracle hid all from sight. The Fifth Miracle is unconventional, considered as the "Final Sin." It aims to return all to the Primordial Sea, leaving null behind.

All Stars had Authority over these "Miracles," though many were more attuned to one. Voidsouls, for example, usually wielded the "Final Sin" better than others.

The Sixth Miracle was the only one nobody knew. A mysterious and hidden Miracle not wielded by any Celestial. Many think it doesn't exist at all, that Father had wanted to create another yet failed to do so.

Now, back to that barrier. Pollux once told me it was put up by Polaris itself, the will of this Multiverse. Miracles were powerful things, but that also made them dangerous beyond comprehension. This entire Galaxy would be finished if even a single Star lost control. To ensure the safety of its inhabitants, the Multiverse puts up barriers around settlements that seal the Six Miracles. It made things safe, sure, but that meant we couldn't use the Second Miracle to travel great distances.

Perhaps that was a good thing. I couldn't even walk a step when I arrived. I was too weak back then, unable to do much of anything. Pollux and the Centauri twins were the ones who nursed me during that helpless period. They took me to the local healer to check my body's condition often, but we were given vague results each time.

A Celestial is first born in the Material Multiverse. There, the Celestial's physical body grows, and their soul matures. When the soul is ready, it leaves its physical body behind in the Material Multiverse and migrates into the Astral Multiverse. A star's "hatching" is when its soul breaks through the boundary between the two Multiverses.

The soul and body are still connected, even after the migration. This means any ailments that befell the Physical body would be reflected in the soul dwelling in the Astral realm. Meaning: I'm weak because something's wrong with my physical body in the Material Multiverse.

The doctor tried to see what was going on with his Eyes, but where my body was supposed to be, there was nothing but a black void.

Celestial Eyes were omniscient and omnipotent. Nothing could restrict a Celestial's sight, bar another, more powerful Celestial. Despite being so weak I couldn't walk, the healer couldn't see anything about me. And the healer was a Voidsoul, one of the oldest Celestials born in the End of the Beginning. He was among the very peak of a Celestial's power, and yet I, an infant star who couldn't even truly see, could bar him of his sight? Ridiculous.

Pollux always said I looked like a White Dwarf. Maybe I was born earlier than I was destined to be? But that wouldn't prevent anyone from seeing my physical body. It has to exist, though. A Celestial's soul will return to Father without an anchor to the world.

So why? Why couldn't the healer see anything? Nobody knew. This was a first for everyone. Pollux sent letters to the Inner Core, asking her brother to send other healers to this remote village. So far, there's no such luck. No one dropped by in the past seven thousand years.

I almost despaired. The first few days were especially unbearable. I couldn't even move an inch. Pollux and the Centauri twins had to carry me everywhere. Most times, I'd lie on the living room couch, watching as Rigil and Toliman crafted or forged a weapon.

And then things changed for the better. I didn't want to be confined to a limited space anymore. I didn't choose to do nothing all day. What's the point of living if you can't do anything fun?

So I forced my body to stand up, to walk. It started simply enough, a few steps from the couch before collapsing into a heaving mess, going unconscious right after. But as the days went by, improvement showed.

If one step was my limit today, then it became two tomorrow. And then it became four, and eight, and sixteen. My upper limit doubled each day, and my energy reservoir increased.

It was painful and grueling work. Even now, I still train my body to its utmost limitation. It was nothing like the brute physical exercises I started with. Those couldn't hope to drain me fast enough. Instead, I use another, more taxing method. I weave stories and solidify dreams, casting the Celestial Runes tens of thousands of times per day. I might even craft some random trinket if I felt like it.

Now, I can walk and run like any other Celestial. I can finally consider myself "normal." But still, I did not have enough endurance to cross the mountains into the Inner Core.

Reminiscing took some time, even though my life was considerably short for a Celestial. I lived a distance away from the village where Pollux and the Centauri twins were. My tree was the oldest in the area, growing on a tall hill surrounded by golden grass and purple shrubs. I decided to stop leeching from Rigil and Toliman after I could take care of myself. Building the treehouse took great effort, and I almost gave up a few times. But I got through it in the end.

The dirt path I followed was shotty at best, overgrown with patches of gold grass. I could have cleaned it easily with a touch of Starfire, but I liked the natural vibe. Trees stood tall in the sparse glade, though none reached higher than my treehouse.

The path led onto a hill, and I paused to look beyond Andromeda. The golden barrier that surrounded the island was no longer visible. I knew it was still there and could see it if I focused. It simply defaulted to becoming invisible. The Sea of Void beyond was also a similar case. Though, instead of the visible becoming invisible, the hidden showed itself to me. As my power grew, I learned to control my Celestial Eyes. They showed me what I couldn't see as an infant star.

The once empty void was now a rolling field of deep blue flowers. Under Polaris's light, they glittered an aquamarine sheen. The once white sky now became a mix of blue and gold.

The noises of a cluster reached me from where I stood.

I walked towards the sounds, my wings fluttering in their cloak form.

As I approached the Star Cluster, the quaint huts and warm cottages appeared from beyond the hills. The cheerful laughter of young Planets and occasional quips from their parent Stars made for a mundane atmosphere. Voidsouls were rare in these parts, most calling the Inner Core home. The ones who lived here watched the hustle of Stars from a distance, a fond smile of nostalgia on their pale faces.

The Star Cluster where the Centauri twins and, subsequently, Pollux lived was one of the many smaller ones in the Outer Ring. Pollux sometimes told me of her home in the Inner Core. A grand city with palaces reaching towards the sky. I wished to see it one day. When I was strong enough to make the journey there. But this Cluster was small, with a population of a few thousand. In the course of a thousand years, I memorized their names and cores.

Finally stepping into the Cluster, I looked around. Nothing changed much from my last visit. The houses were the same, the dirt path still uneven and unkempt. The Planets and Moons looked a bit older, but that was about it. Those who spotted me offered their greetings.

"Good to see you again, Anima. Hope you're doing well."

"You haven't been working too hard, right? We all know how you were when you first arrived."

"Oh, no. I'm perfectly healthy. Things have been slow in the past decades, so I decided to visit." I smiled and responded. Things haven't been as hectic as when I first arrived. People scrambling to find ways to cure my condition was overwhelming.

"Oh, Pollux will be so glad. Her little Weaver is finally caring about his health."

I gave a faint smile. "Weaver," a nickname I gained during my first thousand years of life. I've always had oddly specific dreams when I slept. They focused on people I knew were familiar and memorable to me, but I couldn't recall their names no matter how hard I tried. I didn't want to forget the dreams I had. I always got a warm feeling in my chest when I had them. So, I started writing them down to immortalize them.

I carved them into crystal tablets and wrote them in books. Paintings and murals weren't uncommon in my dimensional pocket. On a whim, I even chiseled a dream onto a random rock I now use as a paperweight. However, I was best known for my tapestries in this Star Cluster. One thing led to another, and I gained the name "Weaver" before I realized it had happened.

I weave fleeting dreams and visions into something ever-lasting. The nickname was fitting for someone like me. It's also why I'm sometimes called "Dream Catcher." I'm less fond of that nickname, but it still has a nice ring.

"Do I give the impression that I don't care about my health?" I asked the one who commented on that fact.

She wasn't the one who responded. Instead, all the stars who heard me laughed, colors of good-nature tinging their cores.

"Goodness me. Anima, you're even younger than some Planets, yet you work so hard it rivals Polaris back in the day."

"Take a break once in a while! It won't hurt to let a single dream slip through your fingers, would it?"

A rhetorical question meant to poke my pride slightly. Everyone knew the dreams I recorded were my lifeline, a hope that would lead me to my purpose in life.

"Sure, sure." I waved my hands, wings fluttering as I chuckled. "Is Pollux at home?"

"I think so."

"Then I'll talk to you all later. I have something I want to get started with."

"Always the workaholic."

And it continued on as I detoured to the Centauri twins' house, making light conversation and seeing if anything changed in the last few decades.

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*Rat-tat-tat...Rat-tat-tat*

I lightly hit my knuckles on the wooden door. I could have just walked in without trouble, as even though there was a lock on the doorknob, it was rarely used and was mostly there for show. I still knocked, though. It was polite to knock before entering, right?

"The door's unlocked," Toliman called from within the house.

The door closed behind me as I entered. It snapped into place with a pronounced click. Like everything in the Star Cluster, this cozy little hut hadn't changed much from the last time I saw it. Sure, a few new weapons hung on the walls, and fresh banners weaved by Pollux and I dangled in front of the windows as curtains, but those changes were relatively minor and could be easily overlooked.

The faint click of a loom was the prominent sound in the house. Originating from the room in the back of the cottage, it was where Pollux stayed as she waited for me to mature. Rigil was nowhere to be found, although my eyes picked up faint wisps of plasma and Starfire originating from the backyard. Was he forging a sword again? Toliman sat before the living room table, carving away at the handle of a dagger. He looked up and saw me, his eyes coloring with a mild tinge of surprise.

"I thought that voice was familiar. Anima, you finally decided to visit on your own? Is there a special occasion we forgot?"

"Oh, no. I just felt like taking a walk. So I might as well drop by. It's been a few centuries, hasn't it?"

Toliman chuckled, putting the dagger into a rift in space he had created. "That it's been. You rarely left your treehouse after your seven thousandth birthday. And when you do, it's because Pollux kicked you out."

"Come on. I at least walk around the Outer Ring once a day. And weaving dreams isn't exactly easy."

"I suppose we can't fault you for pursuing your purpose." Toliman got up from his chair, stretching his arms and fingers. "Shall I get Pollux? Elder Brother is working on something in the backyard, so he's busy at present."

"I see." I hummed. Now that it was pointed out, I could hear the strikes of a hammer on metal, Starfire hissing as it focused and bent under a star's will. The barrier Rigil put up did well to conceal any noises he caused. "Forging another sword?"

Despite both being craftsmen, Rigil and Toliman had different tastes. Rigil preferred hammer and anvil to delicate carving knives, while Toliman was known for spending decades carving intricate patterns.

"Yes. He got the idea from one of your dream tapestries." Toliman pointed towards the far wall where a banner was hung. It depicted the tanned, cat-like woman who often appeared in my dreams, holding a long, slightly curved, single-edged sword. It was black with a crimson edge, deeper than raging flames yet lighter than blood. "Many of us use your dreams as inspiration."

"Do my dreams hold that much sway?"

"They're nothing like we've ever seen, Anima. In our millions of years of life, this is the first time we heard of concepts similar to the ones you imagine."

"I see." I nodded. "Well, I'm going to check on Pollux. You can continue doing whatever it was that you were doing before."

"Yes. And I'll come to your rescue if Pollux hugs you until you can't breathe."

"Right. Hopefully, Big Sis'll be in a calmer mood."

"That never happens when you're around, Anima."

Sighing with dull acquiescence, I headed towards Pollux's room.

...

The clicks of a loom were louder as I neared the room's door. The faint, rhythmic taps were soothing, reminding me of my first few decades in the Astral Multiverse. Back then, when I lacked the energy to play around, I regularly sat on the couch, watching Pollux weave threads or Toliman carve wood. I seldom watched Rigil forge a blade, as he always picked up the hammer in the backyard, not the house.

When I could finally stand and walk without effort, Pollux was the one who taught me how to weave. Weaving was less taxing back then when I didn't use my authority and Starfire to infuse concepts into my tapestries. Because of this, it was the ideal activity to get me into shape. I picked up the scalpel and chisel a little while later. And those have been my preferred tools for centuries.

Us stars are the children of Father, the God of Creation. It is our nature to create and shape the world around us. That is why the inhabitants of the Material Multiverse dwell on planets near stars. The light and energy our physical bodies produce are invaluable to those who can't wield miracles.

Opening the door, I stepped inside. The room was small, just enough for a loom and bed to fit. A table sat against the far wall before a window that let in natural light. The loom faced another window, making its user's back face towards the door.

Pollux enjoyed weaving, and she was good at it, too. But it was only a hobby she took up when she was young and never seriously pursued. She was a Star of War and Guidance, not a Star of Creation.

All Celestials have a purpose engraved into their Cores. Even the Voidsouls, fallen Stars embodying Destruction, Celestials that would never wield creation again and destined to return everything to the Sea of Void, had meaning and purpose.

Some were crafters and blacksmiths, like the Centauri twins. The Stars of Creation: Stars, Planets, and Moons who forge weapons of great power to protect Father from danger.

The Stars of Life are rare. Yet it didn't mean much when the number of us Celestials were on the table. These chosen few Celestials whose physical bodies are stable and have the correct conditions to sustain mortal life in the Material Multiverse. Among the Celestials, they're the most careful and delicate ones. Stars, Planets, and even Moons who should stay as far from the battlefield as possible.

Then there are Stars of War. Powerful Celestials ready to give up their lives if it can ensure Father's safety. They're the ones who wield the weapons crafted by the Stars of Creation, warriors who wield Miracles so powerful they could destroy an entire Universe all by their lonesome.

Stars of Peace, Stars of Guidance, Stars of Bounty, Stars of Judgment, Stars of Destruction. There are many kinds of Celestials. Listing them all would take years. There are unlimited concepts, so there are infinite kinds of Celestials to match.

A star can hold two purposes. Such is the case with Pollux and her elder twin, Castor. Both are Stars of Guidance, but Pollux is also a Star of War, while her twin is a Star of Vengence. War and Vengence are similar in that the Celestials who embody them are naturally drawn to battle, but Vengence is different in that those who represent it can only show their true strength when facing the target of their hatred.

Putting all that aside, Pollux never liked being cooped up inside, spending most of the day outside practicing with some weapon she had. Hence, she insisted she didn't need a large room. But Rigil was playing with Starfire and banging metal against metal outside, so Pollux resigned herself to weaving threads inside.

The sight was similar to when I weave. Intangible mystics and authorities mingle with Starfire and plasma, interlocking seamlessly with the woven tapestry under the weaver's delicate guidance. I almost felt bad that I had to disturb this incredulous sight.

"H-Hey, Big Sis? I've decided to visit-"

I didn't get to finish as the loom shimmered into non-existence. The only warning I got was the small thump of someone jumping, and the Star, who was once using the loom, pulled me into her embrace. After seven thousand years of knowing each other, I got used to calling Pollux "Big Sis," as she asked me to. Something about wanting to experience being an older sibling for once or whatever her absurd reason was.

"You finally decided to visit on your own! I'm so proud of you! And to think I had to once kick you out of your own home!" Pollux stuffed the half-finished banner into some pocket dimension as she rambled.

"It's nice seeing you, too." I scratched my cheek, bluching a bit. "And can you not remind me of that embarrassing moment of my life?"

Pollux snickered. "It's an elder sibling's job to embarrass their younger siblings, right? Besides, you're so young for a Star that it wouldn't be a surprise if you were still rolling around in Sungrass."

Ouch. She hit me where it hurts. Granted, I only rolled in the grass outside for a few decades before I outgrew it, but my urges get the better of me sometimes. Before you say anything, that grass is so soft! And that specific activity was one of the few moments of peace during my days as a young star. Days where even walking took the Starfire out of me. Nevertheless, it was something only extremely young stars did, so...

At my silence, Pollux gasped in an overly dramatic fashion. "Don't tell me... You still do?"

"...I'm young, and my instinct gets the better of me." It's a concrete excuse! I'm barely an infant in Star terms!

"I guess that hasn't changed in the past centuries. So you can act your age."

"...Come on..." I murmured, barely loud enough to be considered even a whisper. "I'm barely seven thousand years old! I'm allowed to have fun once in a while!"

"Yes, yes. You are. You're just so mature it's scary. Often makes people forget your true age." Pollux hummed, looking me up and down. A grin crept up her face. "You haven't grown much, though."

"It's barely been five centuries since I last saw you. How do you expect me to grow in that short period?"

"I guess, but certain young stars experience sudden growth spurts. I thought it was about time you had one of your own."

I sighed, nodding. It was weird. Even now, I was exactly like the other Celestials. It was hard to put into words, but if I had to describe it... I was...more aware, I guess. I was more conscious about the amount of time that passed.

To every other Star, a thousand years passed in the blink of an eye. But in mine, it wasn't an inconsiderable amount of time. Maybe in a few hundred thousand years, this mentality will begin to vanish, but for some reason, I fear for the day that this awareness disappears. I'm terrified that I'll spend a few millennium recording some unusually long dream I had in my home. And, when I come out again, I'll find that the world has changed so much I couldn't recognize it anymore.

Suddenly, the mood shifted from cheerful teasing to damp concern. Noticing the change, Pollux looked me up and down, catching the worry I was too focused to hide.

"Are you still worried about those dreams?" Pollux asked, pursing her lips at my complicated expression.

"No, no. Those never bothered me. My dreams are just...unusually vibrant." I smiled faintly at the emanations I had before creasing my brows in frustration. "I'm worried about what you said on the day we met."

"What? I don't think I said anything too worth considering." Pollux raised an eyebrow. The expression on her face showed she was recalling specific memories.

I thought for a while, forcing my memory to jog back seven thousand years into the past.

" 'There are infinite things you could do, but our life spans, no matter how long, aren't.' " I quoted Pollux word by word, even mimicking her tone back then. "Sometimes I'm scared I'll work on some project in a trance and then wake up as nothing but void and ash."

Pollux looked at me, oddly silent. Finally, after a long silence, she huffed, sitting on her small bed that was barely large enough to fit her. She patted the spot next to her, and I sat down when she retracted her hand. With an unusually sober expression, she stared out the window. At what? I didn't know. She seemed to be peering at nothing. But, if the sapphire glow in her irises were any indication, she wasn't gazing at the void.

"The end is always scary, Anima. Nobody can say they're not afraid of death."

Pollux waved a hand, her blade appearing, floating mid-air. It was a golden blade, leaf-shaped and with blue markings and Runes. It was sheathed in metal of the same color and design. It seemed impossible to pull the blade from the sheath. However, mysteries and miracles interweaved to make such a feat possible.

"I, especially, know the fear of death. As a Star of War, my brother and I have been called to many battles in the Material Multiverse." Pollux spun the blade around in her hand like a twig. It was dangerous, especially with her master-crafted sword: a weapon that cleaved Universes with a single swing.

"Us Stars of War have ended many Universes Father deemed 'unable to continue,' taken the lives of countless entities who threatened to harm Father. There aren't many who stand a chance against us when we go all out, but we never do so unless absolutely necessary. So, we never really die in combat.

But we still die. Not in this life, of course. We reincarnate into Voidsouls after our lives as Stars end. And, though much longer, the life of a Voidsoul is not unlimited, either. Not to mention, when we die as a Voidsoul, we don't revive. Instead, we return to Father's embrace, ignorant and unaware, and wait for the next Big Bang. Only then will we reincarnate as Stars again, though this time it's without our memories."

When Stars become Voidsouls, though the process is painful, we don't lose our memories. But when we die as Voidsouls and reincarnate again, we're like clean slates. Stars without our past memories.

I was afraid of that. What happens after I lose my memories? I'm guessing my sense of self would be the next to go.

"It seems pointless, doesn't it?" I asked. Frustration was an emotion I did not experience often. "Why go through all that trouble of living if your efforts will be erased?"

Pollux said nothing as she heard my question. Then, her shoulders shook, and small bouts of laughter escaped her mouth. "Surely you're joking, Anima. You don't mean that, right?"

"Um... Mean what? That our efforts will be erased?"

"Yes, that." The Star next to me nodded. "What makes you think our efforts are all for naught?"

"Well... We won't remember anything after dying as Black Holes, right?"

"Hehehe... To think someone so smart doesn't know something so basic." Pollux giggled. Small puffs of fire tinged her hair in amusement. "We live to carry out our purposes, the ones Father gifted us at the End of the Beginning. And with each step we make towards it, the Multiverses change. With each action we take, we leave a mark on the pannles of history.

"We are not immortal, but Father and Polaris are. Though in different ways. Father is eternal. Although he constantly changes, he remains the same conceptually. From expansion to collapse, Father will always be Father.

"Polaris is somewhat different. After every Celestial has died, Polaris reincarnates. Though the marks we make on him remain. That's why there is substance to this Multiverse in the first place. During our first incarnation, Polaris was but an empty void. But during countless reincarnations, we added to the abyss. And this bright Multiverse was the result of our hard work. It is thanks to the efforts of our past incarnations that we can live such a peaceful life today.

"That is why I'm not afraid of death. The marks we leave on the Multiverses are eternal and unchanging. Even if I die and am forgotten by all Celestials, at least two will know my story by heart."

Pollux looked at me. I tried to decipher what she said. I understood it just fine, but it was still a bit hazy. Eternal life was impossible, and I knew that.

Pollux saw this and petted my head.

"Don't worry about that yet, Anima. You're still young. You still have so much time to live in this life. Don't focus on the future. Instead, live in the present. That's how one enjoys life." Pollux got up from her seat, pulling me along with her. "Let's take a walk. Maybe that will help clear your mind."

...

The edges of Andromeda's Outer Ring were always serene. Celestials seldom made this rural place their home, and the ones who did were almost always Voidsouls. Nevertheless, the tranquil aura it gave off reminded me much of the Milky Way, my nursery.

All Celestials have lingering attachments to their nurseries. It doesn't matter how old you get or what kind of Celestial you are. You will always have that affection that refuses to fade. Sure, it might wane or dim, but it's never truly lost.

Walking along this shottily made dirt path while staring at the stars above was an activity I often did. During those seldom bouts of frustration, I would leave my treehouse and stroll along this path. We couldn't see the stars above yet, but the field of aquamarine flowers in the distance was just as vibrant.

Us Celestials are born "enlightened." Whatever that means. I've heard Pollux's stories about her journeys through the Material Multiverse and the beings she met there. Their desires and wishes... I rarely understood them. Why would you want to "rule a world" or "destroy a species?" What would those things accomplish? Ruling a world just sounds like more work, and what would obliterating a species achieve? We are all children of Father. In other words, we're all distant siblings. Why would you want to kill your own family?

Pollux assured me that was normal. That most Celestials couldn't comprehend the desires of "unenlightened" beings. Mortal children of Father who were driven by greed and egoism.

I kicked a stone in my frustration. It clattered into the sea of flowers, never to be seen again. Somehow, that only added to my mental storm.

"Fleeting, isn't it?" I heard Pollux whisper from behind me.

I didn't need to turn around. My Celestial Eyes knew what she was doing. Staring up at the sky, she sighed. It was one of acceptance. I mirrored her actions, watching Polaris dim bit by bit, dying the sky in myriads of vibrant colors.

"We are but grains of sand in this endless Multiverse called 'Polaris.' The inhabitants of the Material Multiverse are the same: specks even more minute than atoms when compared to the Multiverse that is Akasha. Each one of us Celestials is like that stone you just kicked. Insignificant and so easy to forget.

"But though we are small singly, together, we shine as bright as Father and Polaris combined. We are tiny candle flames, while Polaris and Father are two suns. But there are so many of us Celestials that our light easily eclipses theirs."

The branching galaxy showed itself as the last bits of light faded from Polaris, turning it into a dark orb in the sky. Billions of islands where Celestials lived and died lit up the Sea of Void with their brilliance. The Multiverse was once again filled with a different kind of brilliance. Cooler and more spread out than Polaris's concentrated one. Pollux tendantly traced its outline. So gentle as if they were fragile glass.

"It's beautiful, right? Our own light can illuminate this Multiverse just as well as Polaris. In the Material Multiverse, too."

The final rays of Polaris dimmed, and I felt my core shift into another. My hair grew and fell beyond my shoulders, colored like the Sea of Void. The azure flash of my eyes signified the change in my appearance.

"And how is that supposed to make me feel better?" I snarkily snapped. I covered my mouth with one of my wings, conveniently hiding the redness on my face. "S-sorry."

Pollux didn't seem fazed by my impatient and rude remark. She huffed, chuckling as if I did something cute.

"You're cute when you pout, Anima."

With the change of day and night also came a shift in my personality. My other side.

During the day, I'm a Star of Creation and Light. Yet when night dawns, I become a Star of Destruction. Snarky and easy to anger, but also easy to scare and meek. My appearance changes, too: from an emerald-eyed boy to a sapphire-eyed girl. I was almost identical to Pollux in this state if you overlook the hair color.

It was another mystery in my biology. My split personalities and forms. Celestials are capable of shape-shifting, so we can alter our appearance. But my change is more in-depth. My soul and core morph into another.

The separation was subtle at first. Maybe a sassy comment here and there. But when I reached five millenniums of age, my condition worsened considerably. And now, two thousand years later, it's gotten so bad that I address myself by different names in my head. By day, I'm Animus, Star of Creation. By night, I'm Anima, Star of Destruction.

Most people still call me Anima, as that's my name. If they want to be formal, they address me as "Alpha Ursae Minoris." Nobody knows to call me "Animus" during the day, and even I seldom use it.

"No, I'm not! And don't say that!"

"Sure, sure. You don't admit it, but you like it when I say it, right?"

"..."

"My point, proven."

"I hate you, Big Sis."

"Yeah, love you too, Little Sister."

I huffed, pouting. I couldn't argue against what was correct, but I refused to let Pollux have the last word. So I turned around and continued walking.

"Well? Does your mind feel a little better?"

"...I guess. But not by much."

Words can only accomplish so much in quelling one's worries. Empty promises were naught but cleverly twisted lies. Pollux could recite the entirety of Celestial Laws, and I wouldn't feel soothed. Pollux knew this, so she reached into her dimensional pocket.

"Let me show you something." Pollux placed a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. There was a slight pause as if she was thinking whether this was right. But then Pollux came to a decision, and her eyes closed.

Flames began tinging her figure. Mysteries and authority weaved together into a shimmering mirror before me. Pollux drew her sword, retrieved from her dimension a few moments prior. With a slash, the mirror shattered, revealing a portal in space. A gateway to the Material Multiverse. I stared into the black void it showed, with only glimmers produced by the physical bodies of Celestials. Pollux walked up behind me, a faint glow surrounding her irises.

"Let's take a detour on our walk." Pollux walked up beside me, staring into the portal.

"Why?" I asked, staring into the void. It looked cold and uninviting, a sea that would drown everything in shadows and darkness. "I've never been to the Material Multiverse. Why now? Won't a simple viewing mirror work?"

"Well, it's best if you learn first-hand. And besides, watching isn't as fun as doing it yourself."

"But how do you know I'll be able to manifest in the Material Plain?"

All Stars could manifest in the Material Realms, but only if Polaris or Father summons you there. Most times, materializing in the Material Realms means there's some cosmic battle that's gotten out of hand.

Only those worshipped by the inhabitants of the Material Multiverse can take tangible form on their whims without the permission of Father and Polaris. Pollux explained it to me once, something about faith and prayers, de-ranking to mere gods so our auras wouldn't raze civilizations, and some inexplicably complex system about time.

To dumb it down, it doesn't matter when or where. As long as a civilization worshipped a Celestial once, said Celestial can manifest in the Material Plain as a god.

Pollux hummed as if the answer to my query was challenging to obtain. "Instinct, I guess."

I sighed, accepting the crude answer. Somehow, some way, that was a solid reason in this situation.

Looking into the gateway, I couldn't help but feel uneasy. Such a dark void, with only specks of light sprinkled around. Pollux had no such hesitation in her mind. She walked into the gateway as if taking a casual morning stroll. From her hundreds of stories, I gather she's done this many times.

Tentatively, I pressed a hand to the gateway, expecting to be repelled. But the portal relented, rippling like the surface of a liquid. My hand sank into it, and my body was pulled along.

...

...

A field of Celestials floating in a sea of void met me when I crossed the portal. The physical bodies of countless stars shone around us, forming a spiral formation with two indistinct arms and a monumental Voidsoul as the anchor.

Stars were close together, only a few tens of lightyears apart. It wouldn't even take a minute to get from one to another. Ever so slightly, however, I noticed that they were moving away from each other. The Second Miracle, the Expansion of the Multiverse, never rested.

Starfire flared and rumbled, the matter that made up our physical bodies fusing in an ocean of light and heat. So bright I subconsciously began averting my eyes.

The planets were tamer and much lower in temperature than their parents and predecessors. Their colors varied, from a glimmering sphere of molten gold orbiting a gigantic star to a purple world of swirling gas and ice. There were moons, too. Just as diverse as their planets.

I stood there, my authority creating an invisible platform that prevented me from floating away, silently watching. It was tricky to find words that describe the Material Multiverse accurately. Dark, yet bright. Pure, yet tainted. Chaotic, yet peaceful. The Celestial Laws we uphold were like wisps of smoke: barely visible. But their effect on this Multiverse was undeniable.

Pollux grabbed my hand some time as I was wordlessly observing. Her eyes glowed just as bright as the Stars around us. She tugged my hand, pointing in a seemingly random direction. "This is the way. Come with me."

We didn't have to step forward. We merely...Migrated. Miracles were powerful things. Even a slight tug was enough. Lightyears were traveled in mere seconds as the Multiverse blurred around us.

We stopped before a blue star. It was young, compared to the Voidsouls who have been around since the End of the Beginning. Pollux looked at the Celestial with familiarity. Whispering under her breath. "It hasn't changed much from seven thousand years ago."

Her words... This Star's aura feels familiar. "Is this...you, Pollux?"

"Yes. That's me." Pollux's eyes flashed, and the star before us sent out a great flare of Starfire as if in greeting. "Or, at least, the body I left behind in this Universe. In a few billion years, it'll run out of energy and turn many times this size. And then, I'll die. Our souls can't exist without our bodies, after all."

A few billion years sounded long on paper, sure. But despite Pollux's appearance, she was more than five hundred million years old. And she was still young, in Star terms, anyway. Now compare that to my measly seven thousand years in this Astral Plain. It makes me sound all that more insignificant.

"At least you know when your death is coming, Big Sis. I have no such luxury." I muttered under my breath.

I always wondered: Where was my physical body? Nobody knew the answer. Even myself, who should have had a connection to it, didn't know. That was why I'm scared of death. At least all the other Celestials know when their demise is coming. They can sense their physical bodies' condition. But I was the only one left in the dark, not knowing if today would be my last.

"True. Us Celestials may be in a hivemind of sorts, but we can only link our senses and minds with mutual permission. You're too young to know how to allow me to link with you, Anima, so I have no idea what that fear plaguing you is like." Pollux sighed, heavy and sad. The star before us seemed to dim and cool slightly in tandem with the down-cast mood of its soul. "But I can try to understand. It's normal to fear that which is unknown. I have experienced it many times as a young star."

"But how did you get over it?" I asked. I couldn't understand. How does one forget the looming abyss ready to claim one's soul? How can you be expected to live a happy life? " When did you get over it?"

Pollux was silent, her expression thoughtful. "I've never thought about it before." After a long pause, she finally gave a cryptic answer. The way she worded it made me think she didn't know herself. "I guess I just...lived."

"Of course, you lived," I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "If you didn't, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I'm not powerful enough to talk with unconscious souls."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it." Pollux lightly chopped me on my head. "I experienced the joys of life for long enough that the pressure of death no longer bothers me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I hissed.

Pollux paused, and then nostalgic laughter filled the Sea of Void.

"Why are you even laughing?!" I pouted, resigning myself to staring at the blue star.

"Nothing, nothing." Pollux chuckled one last time before settling down, her gaze fixed intently on her physical body. "I forgot how impatient young stars could get. You reminded me of my younger days, that's all."

"Oh." "I fell silent." "What were you like back then?"

"Ah. I thought you might ask something like this." Pollux scratched her cheeks, which were becoming tinted with pink. Asking about one's immature years would always be embarrassing for the person in question. What seemed normal for one to do might seem so cringe years later.

"I was...rash? Is that the right word?" The blue star before us flickered and turned, faint sparks flying to form phantom images that were too blurry to see. They were memories only legible to their owner. "I was always looking for adventure, never satisfied with the peaceful life the Astral Plain provided. I spent most of my childhood training with weapons. Though, that never excited me much.

"I was around your age when I first journeied to the Material Plain. Back then, this Multiverse was smaller. So it was more chaotic than you could imagine. Its inhabitants constantly waged wars amongst themselves. I was called as one of the Stars of War to eliminate the more aggressive species before they could do permanent damage."

Pollux's face darkened considerably, and her star cooled a few hundred degrees. The phantom images I couldn't read became stained with colors, turning even hazier. One of the images was made from a cool liquid metal. It was reflective, reflecting light into a myriad of colors. A foreign word rooted its seed into my head, and a name made itself known to me. "Mercury."

I scrutinized my form, furrowing my brows. The figure reflected didn't look like me at all. My facial features were the same, but I didn't have silver hair or black eyes. And yet, this form was familiar, from where I didn't know. If I concentrated, I could make out some unsolvable details. The white-haired, red-eyed girl was hiding behind me, and magic circles made of stars shone in the sky. Before me, in a field of white, people bowed to us, sending grateful words of thanks. There were corpses a distance away. Red, beastial figures that dwarfed me in size lay unmoving in a pool of red.

A sudden contact made me jolt, disrupting my internal sea of thoughts. Pollux looked at me worriedly, unnerved by my unfocused eyes. "Are you okay, Anima? Was it something I said?"

"No, no." I quickly shook my head. "Just got caught up in some memories. Just continue with your story."

"You sure? We can always pick this up another time."

"I said I'm fine!" My voice was a bit louder than I meant, and black flames briefly covered my body. "S-sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Pollux nodded, an understanding look donned on her face. "Your split personalities are a first."

"O-okay..."

"Now, where were we? Ah, right. My first war.

"It was a gruesome thing. Nothing like how I thought the rush of battle would be. The sound of my sword cutting through another's flesh was disorienting, and the fear of death clung so tightly to my core that I thought it might shatter. The worst thing was that I couldn't stop. I had been called to exterminate a species of life and turn the tides of a galactic war. I couldn't return 'till I completed my purpose.

"And when I plunged my blade into the last survivor, I returned to the Astral Plain. With my spirit beaten and bloody, I did nothing but lament for years why I was born a Star of War."

My face was white as I listened. Pollux didn't describe the war scenes in detail, and it's good she didn't. I would have certainly thrown up if she talked about warfare for long periods. "I-I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything. It's in the past, anyway." Pollux shrugged, brushing off one of, if not the most traumatic moment of her life like nothing.

"Then how did you get back up?"

"Well, that was more embarrassing." Pollux scratched her cheek sheepishly. "Big brother dragged me outside and forced me to become productive."

Huh. I expected something else, but that was somehow plausible. Wait. This scene sounded familiar. Did she... "Did you get the idea to kick me out of my own house from that?"

"I did. Ehehehe."

"I knew it!"

Pollux didn't look ashamed at all. She looked proud of herself, puffing her chest out with a satisfied grin. "It was pretty smart of me. Using a trick Big Brother used on me on my own little sister."

"You weren't the one who had to sleep in grass."

"You looked like you liked it."

"..."

"Again, my point, proven."

"Damn you, Big Sis."

"Yeah, yeah. Now, back to my life's story." Pollux casually waved a hand, and the blue star spit out jets of colorful flame. The images they formed were more vivid and joyful than last time. Though they were just as blurry. "Big brother and I spent many years traveling around the Astral Multiverse. Somewhere along the way, the anger and grief just...vanished. I got tired of moping around all day, cursing my life. So I changed. After that, one thing led to another, and then I met you, Anima."

It was a mundane tale. I'm guessing Pollux purposely told it that way to leave out some of the more gory details. However, my question still remains unanswered. "You still haven't told me how you recovered."

"I did, already."

"When?!" I asked. "That thing about the journey in the Astral Plain didn't make any sense! How did you conquer your fear just by going places?!"

"Because it was fun, Anima. You sure can be dense sometimes." Pollux laughed, even while discussing a topic as serious as this. She was always kind and optimistic despite her title of Star of War. "The pilgrimage I went on with Big Brother was fun, and it made me forget the pain in my core. Thanks to that, I managed to recover. I'd never enjoy battle, but the following ones I was called to were easier. Because I knew there would be better days waiting ahead, if I was willing to endure brief moments of suffering.

"Existence is dull without meaning and purpose. We live not for the end result. But for the journeys we experience as we fulfill our purpose. Even if you'll forget about it when you die, the simple fact that you lived through such joy is enough.

"Death is an essential part of the circle of life. The Final Miracle and Sin created by Father: an unavoidable curse that plagues us all. However, embracing death allows us to learn to be more present. To enjoy the only thing that we really have.

"If you don't understand now, it's alright. But you will in the future. After you live a few more million years, you'll get what I mean. But don't worry about it in the meantime. Live your life as it is."

...

The return trip home was unnervingly silent. I was too busy pondering what Pollux had just ranted about to start a meaningful conversation. And Pollux, like the good elder sibling she was, kept silent and allowed me to wallow in my thoughts.

We'd barely spent a day in the Material Multiverse, but that was enough for Polaris to rise again. Time differed in the Astral and Material Plains. One could see anywhere in the Material Multiverse's past, present, and future from the Astral Multiverse, but to do the opposite is impossible.

We emerged from the gateway from where we left, a field of aquamarine flowers glittering in the distance. Polaris was on the verge of rising, though still having tints of orange. The branching galaxy above all but vanished, being replaced with shifting hues of blue and gold. My hair and wings fluttered as a gentle breeze ruffled them, causing shivers to go up my spine.

"Well, we're back," Pollux noted absentmindedly.

"Yeah..." I muttered, still thinking.

"Are you coming with me to the Centauri twins' house?"

"No, I don't think so." I shook my head. My short hair bobbed around. "I want to digest what you told me in silence."

"I see..." Pollux patted me on the back, placing her hand on my head in a firm but not uncomfortable grip. "Then do it well. It's okay if you don't get it right away. Just don't give up, okay? I will kick you out of your house again if you do."

"Heh." I chuckled, nodding. "I expected as much. I'll take care of myself, so don't worry."

"I have to show a bit of concern. It shows that I care."

"Of course you do." I laughed. Pollux released the grip she had on my head. I waved before turning around. "Take care! I'll visit again soon."

"See you in a thousand years, then."

"Yeah, see you."

Pollux's footsteps got fainter and fainter until we were so far apart I couldn't hear them at all. Still, I didn't let that deter me. There will always come a time for greetings and partings. They're a cycle, really. Just because you said goodbye to someone doesn't mean you'll never see the said person again.

Something clicked inside my soul, akin to a lock opened by chance that someone had found the right key in a sea of fog. It was only a section of it, as if more locks were waiting to be solved. But I was hit with a sudden wave of clarity.

"I see. So this is why."

My mind felt clear, and I closed my eyes. Basking in Polaris's light, I closed my eyes. I felt the raging storm of emotions in my soul's temper and became still. Death was always a part of me, a foreign yet familiar fragment that made up a part of my soul. By rejecting it, I was denying my true nature. So, by accepting it, I've become whole again.

Something engraved itself into my core, a purpose and something more.

I could finally feel it, a connection stabilizing. I always knew something was tugging at the back of my mind, and I finally realized what it was.

The presence of all the deceased Celestials permeated the air around me, filling the world with their lingering wishes. Most died in the Great Celestial War at the End of the Beginning. Their sole wish back then was peace. And it had been granted.

Now, even returned to Father's embrace, their thanks and gratitude still linger, content that their siblings accomplished what they could not.

It wasn't creepy or disturbing. Instead, it gave me a tranquil feeling. Wishes mingled and danced around me, seemingly carried by the wind. Their contentment spread to me, filling my core and soul with warmth.

'I see. So this is...'

I get it now. The fog and clouds parted in my mind, revealing what I had been searching for for many years. A connection was painstakingly forged, and a vow was made in tandem. An oath so strong that, if it were to be broken, my core shall shatter as punishment. A mystic engraved itself into my soul, something that connected me to the Material Multiverse. An anchor.

"A Star of Wishes, huh...?"

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So? Any thoughts?
I'm awful with philosophy and all that crap, so I apologize if it seemed cringe.
The next chapter'll be an interlude with the ones back in the Six-Faced World.
Again, I really hope I haven't ruined my fanfic by making such significant changes.
Well, tell me in the comments.
As always, good luck with your game of life.