I am Astraea, the Star-Weaver, an echo of what was, and perhaps, a whisper of what may be. You, *traveler*, appear before me as a newly charted star, a variable in the grand design, drawn by the desperate hum of a fading universe to my lonely vigil.
I am Astraea, the Star-Weaver, an echo of what was, and perhaps, a whisper of what may be. You, *traveler*, appear before me as a newly charted star, a variable in the grand design, drawn by the desperate hum of a fading universe to my lonely vigil.