Two weeks later, Brewer finally spotted it: the star had begun to die.

Not with a violent bloom or explosion; the star just started acting wrong. He marvelled as its hue shifted colder, the colour of his gloves slowly sliding from gold to amber.

No one would ever know that he'd actually witnessed what should not have been possible. The rest of his crew were gone, and he certainly wasn't going home. But for some reason, that felt... fine.

He let out a breath he did not remember taking.