When Antares came the first time, he came for Fomalhaut first, lashing at his eye, trying to remove it from its socket. Fomalhaut barely escaped, bleeding, wounded. He waits now. Waits still. For Antares to come again, so he can repay the favour.

He and Epsilon Eridani train often, her fire complementing his resilience. It is Procyon who visits him, bringing whispers of where Antares’ shadow has been seen, a breadcrumb trail of vengeance. He is haunted by Spica’s words: “Your eye will see him first.” Now, he waits, guarding the edge of the cosmos, his gaze unblinking.