The screen buzzed, static dancing on the edges, a cruel dance without rhythm. On the shattered glass, the stars whispered tales of yore, tales untold.

"Where do we go when the last light fades?" she asked, voice swallowed by the vacuum of a million lights.

"They follow us," he replied, gaze lost among the pixels, "in endless chase across the void."

Beneath the static storms, a quiet path unfurled, leading to another realm, where shadows held the truths of long-lost constellations.

The stars blinked, a chorus in silence—a reminder, a promise. And somewhere deep within, the flickering ceased to be mere glitches, becoming a language of its own.