The celestial device was discovered in the quiet wreckage of the orbital arrays—the last functional signal decoder built to read the heavens. It translated the light of distant stars into a soft pink and indigo grid that overlaid the perpetual gloom of Old Earth.

This device offered direction. It beams a constant, pure signal: not of salvation, but of a quiet belief that something vast and untainted still exists beyond the fracture. It is a moment of fragile hope, reflected in the light of a planet that is only a memory, a quiet, beautiful lie in a future defined by despair.