Chapter Text
The universe had been silent since Earth disappeared.
It wasn't a true silence. The stars still burned brightly, comets continued to streak across the void, and the planets still orbited the Sun as if nothing had changed. But to Mars, everything sounded distant and dull, as though the cosmos had lost something essential and was now trying to conceal the emptiness by pretending everything was normal.
Nothing truly felt normal anymore.
Conversations became shorter after that. Venus no longer argued with her usual energy, and Jupiter spoke less than before, choosing his words carefully as if afraid that saying the wrong thing might break whatever fragile balance they still had left. Even Mercury, normally restless and impossible to stay still, seemed unable to remain near the others for very long before disappearing somewhere into the silence again.
It was as though the entire system had learned how to continue moving without ever truly recovering.
And the moons…
The moons were never the same after the revolution.
No one really spoke of what had happened. Not because they didn't want to, but because the pain was too great to express in words. They had longed for freedom. They had longed to be heard. They never wanted that. They never wanted to see the Earth shatter before their eyes. Mars still remembered the exact moment.
No matter how much time passed, the memory haunted him like an indelible scar.
The chaos. The screams. Gravity trembling violently around them.
It had all happened too fast, altered orbits, fragments streaking through space at terrifying speeds, voices overlapping amidst the mounting panic. No one seemed to truly understand what was happening until it was already too late.
Mars remembered racing desperately toward the center of the disaster, ignoring the pain shaking his own surface as he searched for Earth through the chaos.
And then he saw him.
Damaged. Motionless.
The entire universe seemed to stop in that instant. Mars felt something inside him break as he watched Earth floating among scattered debris, faint cracks glowing across his surface. It was such an unnatural sight that, for a moment, his mind simply refused to comprehend it.
Because Earth should not have looked like this.
He was always moving, always talking, laughing, arguing with someone about something.
But there he was.
Still.
And Mars had arrived too late.
He still remembered the terror that froze him completely when he finally reached him. His hands trembled as he held him, as though some desperate part of him still believed everything would be okay the moment Earth opened his eyes.
But that never happened.
Sometimes, Mars still thought he could hear the echo of that despair, the voices calling out to him, the sound of fragments colliding through space, and the weeping that followed afterward.
The moons had been there too.
Mars knew he would never forget the look on their faces.
Some could barely approach, paralyzed by horror. Others wept desperately, trying to say something he couldn't even understand amidst the screams. They had wanted to be heard. They had wanted freedom. Never this.
Luna was clinging desperately to one of Earth's hands, trembling so much she could barely stand.
"No... no, please..." her voice broke through sobs. "Earth, wake up... please wake up..."
Tears streamed down her face as she tried to gently hug him, terrified of hurting him even more. Her breathing was ragged, desperate, as if she were about to collapse in front of them.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." Mars still remembered how Luna repeated those words over and over.
As if apologizing could turn back time.
As if that could fix anything.
The other moons were also weeping around them, consumed by fear and guilt. Some argued amongst themselves in a panic, others simply stared at the motionless Earth with utterly devastated expressions.
And Mars… Mars could barely hear anything.
Although the voices continued to echo around him, although the moons wept desperately and the sound of colliding fragments continued to pierce through space, everything began to feel distant to him. As if something inside his mind had suddenly shut down.
Everything sounded far away.
As if the entire universe had been submerged underwater. Words ceased to have meaning. The screams distorted into incomprehensible echoes. Even the gravity trembling around him seemed less important compared to the single image that Mars was unable to banish from his mind.
He could only stare at Earth, at the cracks spreading across his surface, and at his motionless body floating among scattered debris, while that unbearable silence grew with each passing second until Mars could barely breathe.
Because a part of him still hoped that Earth would open his eyes at any moment. That he would speak. That he would smile wearily and say that everything was alright.
But that never happened.
Mars still remembered the faint warmth lingering in his hands, the cracks slowly spreading across Earth’s surface, and the unbearable silence that left every passing second unanswered.
He remembered the way the entire universe had seemed to freeze for one unbearably long moment, and the horrible realization settling inside him as he understood he had arrived too late.
No matter how much time passed, the memory continued to haunt him.
Because there was something worse than losing someone: arriving just in time to see them shatter before your eyes and understanding, slowly and horribly, that you could no longer save them. From then on, sleep became the only thing Mars looked forward to each day, the only part of his existence that didn't feel completely empty, because in his dreams, Earth was still alive, and the countryside always appeared the same, covered in golden flowers swaying gently in that warm, eternal light.
Tagetes flowers covered the entire horizon, swaying gently in a warm, eternal light. Intense golds. Soft oranges. The air smelled of something sweet that Mars could never quite describe upon waking. There were no asteroids, no ruins, no remnants of the tragedy. Only that endless place bathed in an impossible tranquility.
Sometimes the wind carried petals around him like tiny flames drifting through the air, while other times the field stretched endlessly beneath an orange sky, warm like a sunset that never seemed to end.
And at the center of it all was Earth, asleep among the flowers.
Mars walked slowly toward him each time, as if afraid that any sudden movement might make him disappear. But Earth was always there, lying on the golden field, with a tranquil expression, breathing slowly as if he were simply resting.
Intact.
Beautiful.
Real.
It was cruel how real it felt.
Because Mars knew all too well the difference between ordinary dreams and this. Normal dreams were confusing. They constantly changed. They shattered the moment you tried to hold on to them.
But this place remained the same night after night, unchanged in every detail.
As if Earth had been waiting for him all along.
Mars knelt beside him once more, feeling his chest tighten at the mere sight of him. He reached out with a trembling hand and gently brushed some orange petals from his hair.
Earth didn't wake up. He never did.
Even so, Mars continued to caress his hand in his own, slowly tracing his fingers with his thumb. It was a small, almost desperate gesture. One he repeated every night for fear of forgetting what it felt like to touch him.
Because time kept moving on out there.
And Mars hated to admit that he was beginning to forget certain things: the exact sound of his laughter, the way Earth pronounced his name, or the warmth of his voice when they spoke alone. There were nights when he tried to remember him while awake and couldn't, and that was what scared him most. Not the loneliness, nor the grief, nor even the guilt that constantly haunted him, but slowly forgetting the person he had loved most in the entire universe.
Slowly forgetting the person he had loved more than any star in the universe.
But here, he could still remember...
Here, he could still feel the warmth of Earth’s hand in his own.
Mars watched Earth's sleeping face for a long moment. The wind rustled through the golden flowers, making the entire field ripple gently around him.
It was strange; even asleep, Earth still looked tired, as if something within him continued to carry the weight of the universe even there, in the middle of that tranquil field where nothing should be able to reach him.
Mars swallowed hard. “I’m sorry…” he finally whispered, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.” The words came out weak.
Insufficient.
Because no matter how many times he said it, it would never change the fact that he wasn’t there. That while Earth suffered, he couldn’t reach him in time.
Mars looked down at his clasped hands. “I should have arrived sooner…” The silence didn’t answer.
Only the soft sound of the wind rustling the tagetes around them remained as Mars slowly closed his eyes, trying to contain the pain that continued to build in his chest.
“Everyone keeps trying to carry on as if things can be fixed… but they can’t. Nothing feels the same without you…”
His voice began to break even more. “The moons keep blaming each other. Venus barely speaks. And I… I don’t even know how to go on existing without hoping to see you again.”
The wind blew a little harder, sending orange petals swirling softly around them both.
“Sometimes I wonder if it should have been me.” The words escaped before he could stop them.
Mars immediately felt guilt crush his chest. “No… I didn’t mean that…” he murmured quickly, though deep down he knew he had thought it, more times than he cared to admit, on those silent nights when the pain and absence of Earth seemed too much for him to bear alone.
Because Earth had always been the center of everything. The one who united everyone else. The one who continued to believe in everyone even when the entire system seemed to be breaking down.
And now he was gone.
Mars barely squeezed his hand in his. “You would have known what to do.”
The silence continued to envelop the field.
And yet… Earth’s hand seemed to close just barely around his.
Mars remained motionless.
His breath caught for a moment as he slowly raised his gaze. Earth was still asleep, peaceful among the golden flowers, but that small pressure was still there on his hand: soft, warm, and terribly real.
As if he had heard.
Mars’s eyes began to burn. “Earth…?”
There was no answer.
Only that unbearably sweet peace that enveloped the entire field, silent and warm, as if even the wind feared breaking the moment between them.
But then Mars noticed something else.
Earth’s breathing seemed a little deeper, steadier, as if he were slowly returning from some distant place Mars could never follow. His fingers trembled slightly against Mars’s hand, a movement so small that anyone else might have mistaken it for the wind rustling through the flowers.
But Mars felt it clearly.
And for a fleeting second, under that warm, golden light that covered the endless field of marigolds, he thought he saw Earth's eyelashes move gently, as if he were trying to wake up.
His heart began to pound, so violently that Mars felt he could barely breathe.
“Please…” he whispered, his voice breaking, though he didn’t even know exactly what he was asking for.
For Earth to wake up.
To speak.
To tell him he didn’t hate him.
Anything that would prove he was still there beside him, in the middle of that endless field of golden flowers.
Mars bowed his head, resting his forehead against their clasped hands as pain pierced through his chest once more. And yet, for the first time since the tragedy, he didn’t feel the emptiness completely devouring him.
Because perhaps Earth was still finding a way to reach him too.
Perhaps that place didn’t exist only inside his mind, but somewhere in an impossible corner of the universe where they could still find each other, far away from the pain, the chaos, and everything they had lost.
The wind swept once more through the golden flowers, gently stirring the marigolds around them as orange petals drifted softly through the air.
And then… a faint caress brushed against his knuckles, so soft that Mars almost convinced himself he had imagined it. But the warmth remained. Real.
Mars’s eyes widened as he slowly looked up. Earth’s hand had shifted ever so slightly, his fingers now resting weakly against Mars’s own. It was such a small movement, almost imperceptible, and yet painfully real, real enough to make something inside Mars ache all over again.
Mars felt something slowly break inside him as he watched that tiny caress, as if his heart had endured too much pain for too long and was finally beginning to give way.
"I miss you..." he whispered desperately. "I miss you so much..." For the first time, his voice sounded truly broken.
Tears began to slowly slide down his face as he squeezed Earth's hand against his own, as if letting go would mean losing him all over again.
And yet, Earth remained there, still asleep, waiting silently for him in the middle of the endless field of golden flowers swaying gently beneath the warm breeze.
For a moment, Mars wanted to stay there forever.
But then he awoke.
The dream vanished instantly. The flowers, the golden light, the warmth of Earth's hand, everything slowly dissolved into a cold, silent darkness that enveloped him completely once more.
Mars opened his eyes slowly, only to find himself once again facing the silence of space and the unbearable reality of Earth's absence. The emptiness around him returned immediately, wrapping itself around his chest like something familiar and impossible to escape.
For a long moment, he remained motionless, staring into the darkness before him while desperately trying to cling to the remnants of the dream before they vanished as well.
The flowers slowly began to fade from his memory, their golden and orange hues blurring into distant recollections. The sound of the wind disappeared too, dissolving into a faint echo impossible to hold onto.
And even Earth's face was beginning to feel distant again, as if waking up itself were trying to steal him away.
No.
No, no, no…
Mars closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold on to even a small part of him, as if the simple act of clinging on could prevent the dream from completely crumbling.
And that’s when he felt it, a soft touch against his hand.
Weak.
Warm.
So real that it was impossible to ignore.
Slowly, he lowered his gaze to his trembling fingers, as if he feared that by looking at them too closely, that last vestige of the dream would disappear as well.
He could still feel the faint touch of another hand intertwined with his own, a delicate brush that refused to fade even after he had fully awakened.
As if the dream hadn't truly ended, as if a part of that golden, silent place had remained trapped in reality, clinging to his skin with an inexplicable stubbornness.
As if, in some way Mars couldn't comprehend, they were still connected through that fragile instant that resisted vanishing completely, suspended between what had been dreamed and what now ached in the emptiness of space.
Mars swallowed, feeling that invisible echo linger in his fingers, like an impossible promise or a memory not yet ready to die.