Stars look at people. In the past and in the new world there are those who owe everything to the stars. When celestial bodies look especially closely at a person, noticing potential in him, they endow him with a gift. Simple or complex, they decide. Someone still gains in the womb the ability to find a way among deserts, swamps and dense forests. Someone is born a born blacksmith or a curmudgeon, that is, I wanted to say a merchant, of course a merchant. In a past life, I was lucky. I was born the heir to the imperial throne. My life was spent in convenience and luxury. Marked from birth by the largest cluster of stars, I became the youngest Pleiades Voice in the history of my world. And yet, I lost. I died protecting a star stele of sorts. And the generic star thanked me. My new life begins in another world, where the stars still look closely at people, but for some reason they like to look at smartphones more.