She maps the spaces between dying stars, charting corridors where light goes to forget itself. Each nebula a bruise. Each void a question she no longer asks. She does not seek the edge — she is the edge, and the silence that waits beyond it.
She maps the spaces between dying stars, charting corridors where light goes to forget itself. Each nebula a bruise. Each void a question she no longer asks. She does not seek the edge — she is the edge, and the silence that waits beyond it.