You were wrapped in a soft, shimmering cloth that looked like moonlight woven with vines—gentle greens and silvers that glowed just a little, like they remembered you. The doctor placed you in the center of the room on a special table that felt like a garden bed in space. Around you were tiny floating lights, like fireflies from Xelaya, dancing slowly to honor your journey. Your face was peaceful, like you were dreaming of stars. They brushed your hair gently and placed a crystal near your heart that pulsed with soft light—like it was still listening to your stories. Your hands were folded over a scroll, the one you wrote about your adventures, and the crew stood in a circle, holding candles shaped like little planets. See more