Prologue
They say the Stars Are Archives of Time.
Beautiful things, maybe. Bright things, certainly. Something that often makes us stop in our tracks, as if the body understands what the mind refuses to name. Some believe that stars keep memories, while others say they are merely watching us from afar. No one ever agrees long enough to be truly certain.
But do you know what the strangest thing about this world is?
Death never arrives with screams, terrible accidents, or the sound of thunder that stops time. It comes as a small absence, so subtle that we choose to ignore it. We still call their names. We still leave an empty chair at the dining table, as if they merely stepped into another room and will return shortly.
We keep pretending... until the wind comes.
It has become a tradition that when the time arrives, some might lose their minds, and others will cry their hearts out. Because a star can fade when it is forgotten. Or perhaps, it is forgotten because it slowly fades. The order of it never matters to those who are already afraid. Try looking up there.
Those stars... they know when they are being watched.
