[EXT. SOLTHERION – NIGHT]
Cosmo waddles from her ship, Above, massive rings groan — echoes in spacetime. The sky burns with fire from Soltherion’s core, stolen from Stephenson 2-18. The planet, the size of TON 618, hums with holy gravity. Cosmo scans the silence... then — A twig Snaps. Her ears perk.
COSMO: (in Russian accent) “Hello...? I am not looking for fight. Just... signs of life.” She lifts her head, sniffing the air. “Come out, da? I won’t bite... unless you make me.”
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