Insignificant

There are organs in the grass surrounding Klias. 

They bleed in ways that it doesn't understand, the bugs underneath its body skitter around in an attempt to get away from the former star. 

There's a pain in Klias' body, bumping in a newly born chest, a feeling of liquid rushing under a skin once made of flames that ran so hot, being near them would kill someone. 

The grey line made of rock is lifeless, and Klias seeks that feeling. Lifeless is what it used to be. Lifeless is something it will never be again. 

It can sense that something has fundamentally changed in it. It used to have a core in the place where the bumping was coming from.