Stars. Little pinpricks of light many millions of miles away. Appearing to twinkle from light refraction in the atmosphere. The world's most brilliant picture book spread out along the sky.
Some of these stars may not even exist anymore. They may have burned out. But their light still shines. Traveling at three hundred million meters a second to the far reaches of the cosmos.
It was always the stars he found the most beautiful. Gazing out at the array of reds, blues, yellows and whites. Each moving in their own unique way. Never seeming to be in exactly the same place as the night before. He may look down at Earth like a god, but the stars looked down on him like titans.
He knew he was running out of oxygen. He could feel it. The decreasing amount of pressure in his lungs as he breathed in more and more emptiness. They would never get here in time. But, drifting among the stars, he knew he was at peace. He only regretted not getting to say goodbye.
His vision starts to narrow. He turns his head and looks at his Mother's star one final time. He would be joining her soon. Looking down upon his planet from above. From a star. He smiles and closes his eyes.
The read craft stops a few hundred meters away. The pilot gets out and speeds to his brother, laying among the stars. His face is peaceful, and with that, the pilot breaks down in tears.