Not a star. Not a planet. A glow —soft and golden, pushing back against the deep violet of space. It grew as she floated closer, until she realized what it was: a sun. Small. Almost shy. Nestled in a pocket between three larger, colder stars, as if it had wandered into the wrong neighborhood and decided to stay anyway.

Then she saw it.

Sometimes the light you need isn't the biggest one. Sometimes it's the one that simply refuses to stop shining.

"Sunny," she whispered, her voice crackling through the suit's comms. "You're sunny. Entre estrellas. "

Elara laughed—a real laugh, the first in weeks. Around her, the other stars loomed with their ancient gravity and their quiet dignity. But this one? This one danced . It flickered with the joy of simply existing, undimmed by the giants on either side.

Sunny entre estrellas.

She felt found . Not by a rescue ship. Not by a map. But by a little sun that had no business burning so brightly in a place so cold.

That was the first thought that crossed Elara’s mind as she drifted through the void. Not cold. Not silent. But warm, as if she had stepped into a hidden patch of summer while the rest of the universe shivered in darkness.

As she drifted in its glow, Elara closed her eyes. She wasn't saved yet. The ship was still broken, and help was still light-years away. But for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel lost.