STARHEIR

The money was always meant for this

Your father put a little aside after every run for nineteen years and never told you why. Now you're nineteen, he's gone, and there's a wallet with your name on it and a letter that ends: don't come back famous — come back with a story that belongs to you.

Starfall Station is where it starts. Zix runs the bazaar, and everything on his stall is a decision: a heavier blaster, a shield belt, hull plating, grav boots, a relic scanner that lights up buried treasure from across a valley, a warp core that halves what a jump costs you. Hale runs the shipyard, and the difference between the tired little Vagabond and the Sovereign is how far you can reach and how much you can carry home.

Five worlds, five ancient Vaults

Burn fuel, pick a star, and drop onto a desert of wind-carved arches, a jungle that breathes, a frozen plain, a volcanic shelf, or a crystal void that only opens for someone already carrying four relics. Every world hides three Glyph Shards. Find them all and the Vault wakes up — and something very large wakes up with it.

Crack loot caches, fight the things that live out there, and get back to your ship with the haul. Die out there and a salvage drone hauls you home minus half of everything, and it always keeps its finder's fee. Bring all five Star Relics back to the Chronicle and the multiverse learns your name.