Have you ever dreamed of ruling the world? Dream bigger! “Cosmic Migraine” takes you to a galaxy where claiming the stars isn’t a victory—it’s a headache. This collection of four works imagines cosmic overlords grappling with the absurd burdens of interstellar rule. From managing eccentric courts of aliens to untangling the chaos of star systems, each piece humorously captures the paradox of galactic power. Inspired by the irreverent tone of “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” this Orangehare In-House Production fuses the medieval themes and striking imagery of Chae Tongyull’s work with a cosmic twist. Every crown may glitter, but as these rulers show, the weight of infinite oversight comes with its own migraine-inducing price.

Ruling the galaxy sounded great on paper—until the council meetings started. Who are these creatures? Why are they pointing at charts? And why is everyone speaking Glorkeay in my ear, a language that sounds suspiciously like burping?

They said the crown chooses its ruler—but forgot to mention it can also run away screaming. When every claw, tentacle, and appendage is reaching for the throne, you might wonder: is being bald underneath the real reason for the panic?

Everything is fine. Really, it is. The screaming clouds, the frantic aliens, the guy juggling stars in the corner—totally normal galactic leadership stuff. Wait… is that a fire over there? No worries. This is fine. Probably.

They said heavy is the head that wears the crown, but this one feels like it might just launch me into orbit. Between the mushroom advisors and the floating pink rabbit, I’m starting to wonder—does galactic rule come with a seatbelt?

Have you ever dreamed of ruling the world? Dream bigger! “Cosmic Migraine” takes you to a galaxy where claiming the stars isn’t a victory—it’s a headache. This collection of four works imagines cosmic overlords grappling with the absurd burdens of interstellar rule. From managing eccentric courts of aliens to untangling the chaos of star systems, each piece humorously captures the paradox of galactic power. Inspired by the irreverent tone of “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” this Orangehare In-House Production fuses the medieval themes and striking imagery of Chae Tongyull’s work with a cosmic twist. Every crown may glitter, but as these rulers show, the weight of infinite oversight comes with its own migraine-inducing price.

Ruling the galaxy sounded great on paper—until the council meetings started. Who are these creatures? Why are they pointing at charts? And why is everyone speaking Glorkeay in my ear, a language that sounds suspiciously like burping?

They said the crown chooses its ruler—but forgot to mention it can also run away screaming. When every claw, tentacle, and appendage is reaching for the throne, you might wonder: is being bald underneath the real reason for the panic?

Everything is fine. Really, it is. The screaming clouds, the frantic aliens, the guy juggling stars in the corner—totally normal galactic leadership stuff. Wait… is that a fire over there? No worries. This is fine. Probably.

They said heavy is the head that wears the crown, but this one feels like it might just launch me into orbit. Between the mushroom advisors and the floating pink rabbit, I’m starting to wonder—does galactic rule come with a seatbelt?

Have you ever dreamed of ruling the world? Dream bigger! “Cosmic Migraine” takes you to a galaxy where claiming the stars isn’t a victory—it’s a headache. This collection of four works imagines cosmic overlords grappling with the absurd burdens of interstellar rule. From managing eccentric courts of aliens to untangling the chaos of star systems, each piece humorously captures the paradox of galactic power. Inspired by the irreverent tone of “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” this Orangehare In-House Production fuses the medieval themes and striking imagery of Chae Tongyull’s work with a cosmic twist. Every crown may glitter, but as these rulers show, the weight of infinite oversight comes with its own migraine-inducing price.

Ruling the galaxy sounded great on paper—until the council meetings started. Who are these creatures? Why are they pointing at charts? And why is everyone speaking Glorkeay in my ear, a language that sounds suspiciously like burping?

They said the crown chooses its ruler—but forgot to mention it can also run away screaming. When every claw, tentacle, and appendage is reaching for the throne, you might wonder: is being bald underneath the real reason for the panic?

Everything is fine. Really, it is. The screaming clouds, the frantic aliens, the guy juggling stars in the corner—totally normal galactic leadership stuff. Wait… is that a fire over there? No worries. This is fine. Probably.

They said heavy is the head that wears the crown, but this one feels like it might just launch me into orbit. Between the mushroom advisors and the floating pink rabbit, I’m starting to wonder—does galactic rule come with a seatbelt?