Astreya

The plaza quieted after the Earth newcomers left, but the air still buzzed, like static that hadn't decided which way to jump.

Astreya lingered for a few more moments, watching a fragment of the marble floor mend itself lazily, then turned away. The Assembly Grounds were massive, and the crowd was already drifting toward new distractions. She'd had her fill of shouting gods and theatrical declarations.

She needed something less... lightning-prone.

A few floating stairways and probability-bending hallways later, she found herself in one of the lower-tier marketplaces. A place where lesser Constellations and divine oddballs bartered in concepts, relics, or snack food that could rewrite your emotions if you chewed too long.

It was quieter here. Less ego. More flavor.

A stall caught her attention, glittering under a curved canopy of shell and stardust. A sign above it blinked lazily in three languages, one of which she didn't recognize.

CRABBY'S CRACKLING TREATS

Snacks Good Enough to Make a Star Cry

Behind the counter stood a crab.

Well… A Constellation in crab form. Massive pincers, beady celestial eyes, and a pair of antennae that twitched like they were listening to music she couldn't hear.

He noticed her looking and clicked his claws once, a crisp snap that echoed like a polite thunderclap.

"Welcome, welcome," he said, voice warm and gravelly, like waves breaking over old stone.

"I'm Crabby. Proprietor, cook, occasional oracle. You hungry, or lookin' for somethin' deeper?"

"Hungry."

Crabby's eyes gleamed.

"Good," he said. "Hunger's honest."

He turned, his massive shell shifting with a creak like tectonic plates. Steam hissed up from a small brazier behind the counter, where constellations of spices floated weightless above the fire, orbiting lazily like moons. With a practiced flick of his claw, he plucked a few from the air and crushed them into a sizzling pan.

"You strike me as a sun-drop type," he muttered, grabbing a scoop of shimmering flakes from a jar marked BRIGHT.

The scent hit her first. Sweet and sharp, like candied citrus wrapped in starlight. Her mouth actually watered.

He slid the bowl toward her. Crystallized slivers, glowing faintly, crackling with heat that didn't burn. She picked one up.

It fizzed on her tongue like it remembered being sunlight.

She blinked, a slow warmth blooming in her chest, rising behind her eyes like the last five seconds before a sunrise.

"…Okay," she managed.

Crabby chuckled, a dry, clicking sound. "She likes it. Good. Means your palette's not jaded yet."

Astreya popped another flake into her mouth and leaned an elbow on the edge of the stall. "You always cook with orbiting spice?"

"Only when I'm showing off," he said, casually flipping a star-prawn with one claw. "Which is always."

-

"So," she said between bites, "what happens when a world hits saturation?"

Crabby's antennae stilled. One of his claws kept stirring something in a pan, but slower now, absent, like his focus had drifted.

"You're asking about that new one," he said. "The quiet blue orb. Earth, was it?"

She nodded.

He gave a dry chuckle. "Funny name. Sounds like dirt."

"When saturation hits a certain point," he continued, "the world changes. Not just the land or the air. The rules. Things that weren't possible start happening like they were always there. Power leaks into places it wasn't meant to. People start doing things they don't understand. Some survive it. Some rewrite themselves trying."

He clicked softly, then added, "Sometimes worse. Myths, memories, broken ideas that think they're real. Some of them were real, once. Some are just hungry enough to fake it."

Astreya tapped the edge of the bowl. "And the people there?"

Crabby glanced at her with one eye stalk, his voice dry. "They'll change too. Magic doesn't just alter the world. It asks things. Pushes. If a person's close to the edge, it might push them over. Or give them just enough power to push back."

He flipped something in the pan, sizzling sparks jumping like fireflies. "Some will become heroes. Some, monsters. Most won't have time to decide which."