In one of the stars, I shall be living. In one of them, I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing when you look at the sky at night...You - only you - will have stars that can laugh. And that, that is something, isn't it? The whole galaxy. They'll make up a little story for you to remember your name by, and the story will tell itself over again, and you won't know what they're laughing at. They're happy, aren't they? You see those stars as if they could never get tired of making stories - and they could! They could make this story about themselves, forever. But you, you'll know what's funny. Because you'll know what's true - that is why you'll remember your name.
They'll call you 'the star,' you know? Your name will be remembered for a long time after everyone else has forgotten it. It's not an uncommon thing. Everyone will have their name, and they'll live in a small town somewhere, where nothing happens anymore. People used to do things in those towns, you know. Before the stars came into existence, people would go out to play games at night on their fields, and their voices would echo through every field. And in that field, they'd build towers, because they couldn't find any other place to build them until their arms were too weak to even carry rocks any longer. But that doesn't matter much now, does it? The world isn't like when those games were made. It wasn't that exciting, anyway. It was more fun just to lie down and sleep in the grass for a while...And that was exactly what the universe did for most of its life. There was always grass everywhere, and nowhere to hide in case someone found the tower. Nobody ever found it. If nobody ever found anything, then no one ever had reason to think something existed at all. Until the universe decided to give something back, and show that she wasn't afraid of being laughed at. She didn't need anyone to think she was stupid, but neither did she want her creations to remain a legend. So she took a leap of faith, she created humans instead of just trees, and humans built starships instead of building cities. And from there on out, the stories about them became popular enough that people actually liked them, and they even started telling those stories about each other - and so, the world moved forward. That was the beginning of civilization. Humans invented things, got smarter, and the world continued moving onwards. And the universe, well. The universe loved humanity - and that's what the world remembers them for. The stories they wrote, and the stories they gave away - it's been all those stories that have kept humanity alive over the years. That's why the stars chose mankind for a home. Because they've lived their lives long enough - they deserve some love. Maybe a bit of gratitude. Maybe even a bit of respect. So they made men and women who wanted to create things for themselves, and they told their stories. Those stories are why the stars chose mankind. They want humanity to keep creating. And it's working! For the first two centuries or so, at least. Humanity is doing okay so far, even though most of our governments hate them!
Humans still talk a lot about the stars. They still worship them and believe in myths about how they made the galaxy. That sort of thing. The stories continue to pass around, just as they did before. There aren't many left who remember, though, and those that remember aren't fond of telling. It seems that the majority of our species don't have quite as much confidence in the truth of things as we used to. But you know, they might also be right. After all, how many astronomers have been able to prove that there are aliens in outer space, waiting for a chance to invade us? They may only be legends, but they are legends that keep humanity warm at night. The universe may have grown old, maybe, and may have stopped caring about things that are happening in the real world, but that doesn't mean she has changed her mind. We'll see soon enough.
The sun, you see, is dying. It is dying slowly, yes, but it is dying nonetheless. Even if we didn't already know it. The sun has lost the power to shine. It hasn't even had the energy to grow, to evolve itself. Instead, it keeps burning away into an orb of pure white light. Its life is over now, as it turns into ashes of dust. It has gone out forever. But it hasn't died yet. We still feel its pain and suffering, we still hear its screams. The sun is still alive, you know. It has become the center for all its agony. It knows that no matter how beautiful it is now, how glorious its light, the pain will come back. That will never change. The darkness of death is all that will ever come, all that ever will exist. The stars won't take it from here any longer. They're coming for it - they'll come and extinguish it. And then it will die, just like the rest of us. Just like the sun. Soon enough. That's how the story goes. The humans will remember. We'll see what kind of stories they write next, in their little corners of the cosmos. And the ones that we won't see, then, will be the ones that we'll remember the most. Those, I'm sure, will be the ones that will keep the stars going on and on. And they will continue to do so in our hearts. In our souls. For all time. Because the words they spoke to us, that we remember, are still true. They're still true, even if we forget how to say them. Those are the truths we must always remember, to keep our courage strong. And to keep the stars' light shining, forever. And when we finally forget those truths, the memories we keep locked in our minds, the things we can never let out of them again, that will be the darkest moment in our lives. The moment that makes us human. And it'll happen again and again - it'll happen again and again. And you can't escape it, no matter what you try. No matter what you dream. There will always be those who remember - and who will never stop trying. Even when you think you're ready, even when you know that you're done with remembering. There will always be people who remember that you're worth loving. Who loves you more than the stars love you? That's the way it is with stars. Always.
This chapter will tell all of these stories to you. Not one story. None of them. Every single one. And that's why this chapter starts by explaining the story of the stars - which is the story of humankind. It's not a particularly good tale, perhaps. It's not very interesting to read now. But once the stars have left, it will start to make sense. Everything will begin to make sense. Once it has begun to make sense, all other stories will seem less important. The stories we tell ourselves
- the ones we make ourselves think are important - they'll seem trivial and pointless compared to the stories our creators have given us. Their songs have been heard across the world and space. The stars have listened to them. And when humans start writing their songs, it's only natural that they'll sing them for their creators, as well. As long as the stars keep sending the messages that the humans have written down. Songs that will tell us everything that is needed. Stories that we have to remember, and stories that we have to believe in. All of it. All of it has to happen. It has to happen, and we have to be ready. And for that to happen, you must listen.
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