A tiny capsule skitters to a stop on a glittering plain. Inside, Captain Nibbles — a plucky hamster in a slightly scorched spacesuit — peeks through a cracked visor at a sky no larger than a marble. The surface underfoot is spongy and sprinkled with luminescent moss that puffs soft, glittering spores when touched.

The ship's instruments blink uncertainly. There’s a faint hissing from the fuel line and a soft thrum from the damaged thruster. Outside, something moves: a cluster of miniature creatures, no bigger than dandelion seeds, peering curiously at the capsule. Nibbles' whiskers twitch with a mix of fear and curiosity.