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Star-weaver

With every tap, a star was born. The cosmos was her canvas. Light, her ink, Nubulae exploded into colorful blooms at her passing. Galaxies swirled from her fingertips as she danced across eons. More. There had to be more. Again and again and again, light smeared and splattered and spun at her whims filling the void with wonder. But it was never enough. There was still so much empty space. And she had an eternity to make it shine.