Chapter Text
The Solar System was, for once, peaceful. Mercury drifted in his orbit, only occasionally huffing when Venus made a comment about his size. Luckily, Venus was in a good mood today, calling him by his real name instead of "runt." Further out, the Gas Giants were in their own worlds; Jupiter was lost in a book, Saturn was chilling with his rings, and the Ice Giants were simply being themselves in the cold dark.
Earth was positioned near Mars, with Luna tucked close by his side as always. Earth’s face was bright, his clouds swirling with excitement.
"Oh man, guys, you wouldn't believe the telescope my Earthlings just invented!" Earth beamed, his voice echoing with pride. "They’re talking about seeing other star systems better than ever. They’re so smart, Mars. I think they might actually—"
Mars watched Earth, a small, rare smile tugging at his red surface. He never said it out loud, but he loved it when Earth was happy. The blue planet’s enthusiasm was contagious. "Yeah? That’s cool, Earth. I can't believe they—"
"Auuu!"
Earth cut off mid-sentence, his body jolting.
"Earth? Is everything alright?" Luna’s voice was instant and sharp with worry.
Earth clutched at the side of his face, his frame trembling. "My... my left eye. It burns! It's burning!" his voice cracked, falling into a pained whimper. "What did they do this time?"
Mars leaned in, his eyes widening in horror as he looked at Earth's surface. "Earth... your ocean. There’s a leak. A massive oil spill is turning the water black right over your Atlantic plate."
Earth felt overwhelmed. Only seconds ago, he was praising his humans, his heart full of love for them. But now, the very things he bragged about were piercing him. "Why?" Earth started to sob, the tears causing storms to brew in his atmosphere. "Why don't they take care of me? Why do they always... why..."
He couldn't finish the sentence. He just curled inward, shaking from the sting of the "black blood" spreading across his eye.
Sun POV
From the center of it all, I watched.
I want everything to be perfect. All my children are good; I am proud of my older ones for staying in their orbits, each special in their own way. My younger ones... well, they need some adjusting. Sometimes they bring my temper to a flare with their "asteroid dodgeball" games, but they behave when I warn them.
But Earth... Earth is causing me such worry.
It was okay at first, but now it is worse. He loves his "Life," but it is only hurting him. Long ago, I was the one who spoke of Life as a treasure. I thought it would be a gift—a miracle that one of my children could develop. And Earth succeeded. He was developing so beautifully.
But I never thought my "treasure" would transform into a disease. My son is sick.
Because Earth was so proud of his humans, I forced the other planets to stay back. I told them to keep their distance, to stay in their orbits, all to protect Earth's fragile "Life." But as I listen to his cries today, I realize that protection was a mistake.
I have lived with this plan for a long time. A cure in several parts. A way to fix my son. I only needed the right signal to give the order.
Hearing Earth’s scream today... I knew the time had come.
I released a wave—a silent, unnoticeable ripple of solar energy that shot through the entire system. It wasn't heat; it was a command. *Let the cure for my son begin.*
I watched as every planet in the system stopped for a fraction of a second. The bickering ceased. The reading stopped. They felt the wave. They understood the order.
The quarantine was over. The healing was beginning.