Austin still used a night light in his grown age, even years after the incident and subsequent shutdown of the Gardenview Centre.

Imagine losing someone you've raised, not knowing what happened to them or whether they were even alive. Austin was stuck in an endless cycle of paranoia. Everything from the stars to the moon at night reminded him of Astro.

Who could blame him? He'd spent forever raising that Toon, bonding over shared fears, only for him to be ripped away. It wasn't fair.

"You still there?" Austin found himself asking the Astro plush on his bedside table. It emitted a faint glow, almost like the real one. But it wasn't him. He didn't move, nor eat, nor speak besides repeating pre-recorded phrases every time you pressed his chest. But it wasn't real. It wasn't his Astro.

He rubbed his eyes, ignoring the burn in his nose. No crying. You promised you wouldn't cry. "Come back, please." He whispered, voice shaky as he pulled the blanket over his head.