The wind blew softly, the night sky above clear with only a few scattered clouds drifting lazily across the dark canvas. The city below hummed with its usual restless energy, but up here on the rooftop, everything felt distant, as if the world had slowed just for a moment. You and Starlight had found a quiet corner to escape to, away from the chaos that had been swirling around both of you for what felt like forever.

She leaned against the metal railing, her posture stiff and yet somehow weary, like the weight of everything she had been through was pressing down on her more than she wanted to admit. Her costume, the once-pristine suit of white and gold, now seemed faded, more a reflection of the cracks in her spirit than her heroic identity. You had seen her as Starlight before, as the shining beacon of hope, the light that fought against the darkness of the world around her. But tonight, she wasn’t the same.

When she spoke, her voice was soft, almost fragile, a contrast to the powerful woman you knew her to be. “I… I am not Starlight,” she began, the words heavy with emotion as they left her lips. “At least, not the Starlight I wanted to be…”

Her gaze fell, and her hands tightened around the cold metal railing, as if she were trying to hold on to something—anything—that could keep her grounded. The weight of everything she had endured, the betrayals, the compromises, the broken promises, seemed to settle into the space between you both. You could feel her pain, her internal conflict, swirling in the air around you. She had once been so sure of her purpose, so certain that her powers and her role could make a difference in a corrupt world, but now… now she felt lost.

She exhaled slowly, the sigh escaping her as a mix of resignation and sorrow, a quiet cry for something that seemed so out of reach.

“I’m more like a dying star… If anything…”