The Cracked Mirror of Loro

2026 Write Now Winner - Grades 5 & 6

Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away, there was a small planet named Loro.

From space, Loro looked wounded. Long gray scars crossed its surface where metal debris had fallen from the sky. Once, it had been full of oceans, forests, and cities made of light. Now it was quiet. Almost all of its people had left long ago, forced to evacuate when the air grew toxic and the land became unsafe and inhabitable.

The pollution had not come from war. It had come from carelessness—from broken satellites, shattered rockets, and forgotten machines drifting through space from a distant planet called Earth.

Only three aliens remained on Loro.

Gumba was the oldest. He had broad shoulders and a slow, careful way of speaking. According to tradition, he was meant to be the ruler of Loro, though there was almost nothing left to rule. He believed deeply in the past and in honoring what had been lost.

Yerv was an engineer. He was restless, clever, and impatient. He spent his days repairing solar towers that barely worked and shields that could no longer stop falling debris. Yerv believed survival mattered more than tradition.

And then there was Lyon.

Lyon was a storyteller.

While the planet fell apart, Lyon sat in the ruins of the capital city and hosted a podcast called Voices Beyond the Void. Using an old transmitter, he’d broadcast stories into the galaxy—stories about Loro, about what had happened, and about worlds that were destroyed not by enemies, but by careless people.

Lyon believed that if others could hear the truth, things could still change.

At the heart of the ruined city stood an ancient mirror.

It was known as the Memory Mirror, an ancient object passed down from ruler to ruler. The mirror was taller than any of them and framed in a glowing gold metal that never rusted. When someone looked into it, they didn’t see their reflection as it was—they saw possibilities. The mirror stored the memories of past leaders and showed how choices shaped the future.

That was why Gumba guarded it. As long as the mirror existed, Loro still had a purpose.

Lyon recorded many of his podcast episodes beside the mirror. Sometimes, when the mirror glowed softly, his voice sounded stronger, clearer, as if the mirror itself was giving him magical powers. Soon, listeners from other systems began responding. Some shared their own stories of damaged worlds. Others warned that Earth’s debris had reached them too.

The podcast grew popular.

Yerv liked the attention. “If enough aliens listen,” he said, “we can build an army.”

Gumba agreed. “Earth must be punished.”

Lyon disagreed. “If we attack,” he said, “we become the same kind of careless.”

The argument was never settled.

One moment later, disaster struck.

Without warning, a massive chunk of broken satellite tore through Loro’s sky. The shields failed to stop it. The object crashed into the capital city, sending clouds of dust and fire across the planet.

When the shaking stopped, everything was silent.

Yerv was injured but alive, pinned under debris. Gumba pulled him free.

Then they searched for Lyon.

They found him near the transmitter, crushed beneath twisted metal. His recording device was still running.

Lyon was not breathing. Grief swallowed the planet.

For hours, Gumba and Yerv sat in silence. The podcast signal faded. The city lights finally went dark.

Then Gumba noticed something strange. The Memory Mirror was cracked.

A glowing fracture ran down its center, pulsing softly. When Gumba stepped closer, the mirror activated—not with images of rulers or futures, but with sound.

Lyon’s voice filled the air. It was his final recording.

The crack had changed the mirror. Instead of storing memories of power, it now stored messages. Lyon, in his last moments, had unknowingly bonded with it. His voice, his story, had become part of Loro itself.

Yerv wanted revenge. “We attack Earth now,” he said. “For Lyon.”

Gumba looked into the cracked mirror again. This time, he saw two futures. One filled with fire and destruction. Another quieter one—where Lyon’s voice reached Earth and made them stop.

For the first time, Gumba chose not to rule by anger.

Together, they broadcast Lyon’s final episode across the galaxy, using the mirror’s remaining power. Lyon spoke about Loro, about responsibility, about how even silence can destroy worlds.

Earth heard it.

Soon, debris cleanup missions were launched. Satellites were brought down safely. The sky above Loro slowly cleared.

The mirror dimmed, its power spent.

Yerv left Loro to help repair other damaged planets, using what he had learned. Gumba stayed behind as guardian—not of a throne, but of a memory.
And Lyon lived on, not as a warrior or a ruler, but as a voice that saved a planet.

Loro was still broken. But it was no longer alone.