Roselia smiled faintly at Naval's words, the faint shimmer of her stars pulsing in rhythm with the bridge's glow. "It's responding," she murmured. "Not just to us—but with us." She raised a hand and let her light bloom once more, not as a weapon or shield, but as gentle threads of starlight. They spiraled outward, forming constellations that linked to the bridge's pulse. The aurora shimmered in answer, and for the first time, its song was warm.
Liliana stepped closer, her threads flickering like veins of living silk across the bridge. She extended her hand toward Roselia's starlight; where they met, a new pattern emerged—woven light that sang softly, almost like breath. Her eyes softened, a small smile forming through the exhaustion. "It's learning. Every voice we gave it, every rhythm we refused to surrender—it's all here."
