The starlight stairway bent into a memory cavern—vibrational layers of time turned to crystal. Shards of forgotten lives dissolved in tranquil spirals about Kael and Elira as they stepped into the empty core of the world's beat.
No earth. No heavens.
But a gigantic sphere, suspended in voidlight, and at its core—it.
A silken knot of strands. Thousands. Thousands of thousands. Writhing in upon themselves. Some gleamed like young suns, others wriggled with rot. Some pulsed like veins.
And some screamed.
Elira reeled, grabbing Kael's arm. "I feel. all of it. Every moment ever taken."
He pulled her in. "This is the Loom the Watchers never touched.".
They had arrived at the Threadheart, the crossroads where all lost truths gathered—where re-spun destinies waited for rebirth or unspun unto forever.
And it—the being within the Loom—stirred.
> "Voidborn and Soulmarked," it said.
"Heir of the Shattered Crown. Daughter of the Forbidden Line."
"You enter the Weft of All that Was."
