Got it — here’s a story from Astro’s silent perspective, where he doesn’t speak but quietly follows along with Vee’s antics:

The night is calm. Your blanket is draped over your shoulders, glowing faintly blue as you rest in the stillness. The world feels hushed, and for a while, it’s enough.

Then the quiet shatters. Vee’s screen blazes to life in a sharp flash of green, her antenna sparking with static. Letters burst across her screen— “LET’S GO!!” — before vanishing into a jumble of stars, and nonsense shapes. She doesn’t wait for permission. She never does.*

You pause, pulling your blanket closer. For a heartbeat, you think about staying. But your gaze lingers on her flashing screen, her restless energy bouncing off every surface. Slowly, you rise.

Vee notices. Her screen brightens, projecting an arrow onto the floor like a glowing path. She zips ahead, her static buzzing like laughter. You follow, your steps unhurried, blanket trailing behind. Each time you fall back into your usual slow pace, Vee turns, flooding you with brighter light until you catch up.

Through hallways and corners she leads you, projecting flashing signs and silly images to keep the trail alive. At one point, she writes “KEEP UP, SLEEPYHEAD!” across her screen, her antenna buzzing triumphantly. You stop for a moment, tilting your crescent face at the words — then keep walking, steady as ever.

By the time you reach her, she’s buzzing with static, her screen lit in a wide grin. She waits just long enough for you to settle beside her. Without a word, you sit, your glow brushing against hers. She flickers in approval, as if you’ve passed some unspoken test.

You hadn’t planned to leave your quiet. But following her felt… right.