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My treasured guest has asked if I hear the Stars. Such precious beacons, spirits that defy the dark by casting their precious Light. Not as loud as The Great Machine but only a fool ignores those with the will to speak. Great Kell of Wolves hears them, as do the rest of her ilk. They channel the Sub-Light of the Stars, somewhere between the Empty and the Flame. This precarious balance, dear eavesdropper, is what gives Great Kell her power. She hears those that speak, and listens. Takes their Gifts, leads her people. Here in this nebula, she hears even their Spark, with her elite advisors she channels powers not unlike Guardians. But those not forged by a power are bound to be changed by it. This was the birth of those Awoken by the Stars whispers. Warped by the messages, empowered by the stars. The Chittering rails against them endlessly, seeking their warmth. Their destruction. In the end no light will escape the Chittering, no matter how bright nor how quiet. But the Stars fight still, a bulwark in the deep dark of space. They don’t have the luxury of The Great Machines running, so they find other ways to fight. And, not unlike Eliksni, they adapt in a vain attempt to survive.