Millions of years ago, in a distant corner of what we now know as our universe, within a massive, brilliant, and fiery ball, two colossal forces were locked in battle: one, perhaps governed by a principle of freedom, had been created to reach everywhere, to attain the unattainable, to bring something to those places where nothingness reigned.

Her name: Sera.

The other force, of equal power, sought the opposite: to unite, attract, and hold. In its irresistible drive, it gathered every particle, every element, every atom, striving to pull them toward the center and keep them there, forever and always—everything, and everyone, within one.

He was Renn.

Yes, Sera and Renn were in conflict; they differed and coincided always in everything and nothing.

Two formidable forces, in constant struggle, that existed and, above all, gave life to what scientists today insist on calling a star.

They had met millions of years ago, when Mor—such was the name of the star—was still a cluster of gases without light or heat.

Renn had been there for a long time, with no one to talk to, no one to argue with. He entertained himself by attracting every particle (mostly hydrogen) that dared to pass nearby.

—It’s a pretty decent ball of hydrogen —Renn said to himself (he had no one else to say it to). I’ll call it Mor.

It had been amusing for a few million years, but it was becoming quite monotonous. He yawned, attracted a few thousand more particles, yawned again, and suddenly, without preamble, he saw her coming: swift, beautiful, fleeting, fast.

Sera passed by, quick and distracted, always with her gaze set on the beyond, when suddenly something caught her attention. It was strong, wise, different, pleasant. She slowed her speed, curved in space (she didn’t know why), and approached.

—I’ll get closer —she thought—; after all, I can leave whenever I want. There’s nothing in the universe that can keep me in one place, at least not for long.

—It’s pleasant —she said to herself, not noticing that the speed at which she was approaching was increasing uncontrollably. In a fraction of a second, she realized she would crash into the surface. She panicked, tried to escape, took advantage of her speed to accelerate even more, and with all her might, attempted a deep turn.

—It works —she thought. She no longer had an enormous mass growing in front of her every second. She could already perceive part of the horizon. She wasn’t scared anymore; she could escape, and could have… but she didn’t. Something very pleasant attracted her, called to her. She looked toward the horizon, looked toward Mor, and, true to her spirit, wanted to experience more and let herself fall onto the surface at such speed that she caused Mor to start spinning rapidly.

And Mor ignited, and Renn burned with it, but he didn’t care. A sensation like he’d never felt before overwhelmed him. He wanted to keep her with him forever, and Sera wanted to feel that warmth—or at least that’s what she thought at the time—forever.

And so, millions of cosmic years had passed since they first met. Renn attracted her, and Sera made him grow; they couldn’t understand each other, but neither could they separate.

Until that moment…

A voice, from who knows where, deep, grave but sweet—a voice that, without shouting, rose above everything—spoke…

(Next: The Voice spoke, now Sera and Renn must decide)