The stars were no longer silent.
Somewhere beyond the Loom's reach, in the shadow between galaxies, something ancient stirred—not a god, not a demon, but a memory of what existed before the Thread.
Kael felt it first.
In the middle of the night, standing at the balcony of the Celestial Spire, he gazed into the sky, and his divine senses twitched—not with fear, but familiarity.
A thread had snapped.
Not on this world.
Not even in this realm.
But in another Loom—another reality.
Lyra found him there, motionless.
"You felt it too," she whispered.
Kael turned slowly, eyes distant. "A world's fate just unraveled. Entire civilizations—undone. Like they were never born."
Valen arrived moments later, dragging his cloak behind him and rubbing his temples. "I thought I was dreaming, but now I've got a headache shaped like a screaming timeline."
Kael clenched the balcony's edge. "It wasn't a dream. It was a signal."
From the center of the Spire, the Celestial Loom shuddered. A single thread—blackened, frayed, and foreign—began weaving itself into the web.
Tyrnex appeared, stepping from a gate of starlight. His voice was tense.
"The Weavers are not responding. Something's interfering with the Looms. And now... new threads are being written. Ones no god, no flame, and no Weaver created."
Kael approached the corrupted thread. It was unlike anything he had ever seen—woven not from light or fate, but from fracture.
And at its end… a name.
Nyros.
A whisper echoed across the chamber:
> "The Threadless King rises. And with him, uncreation shall follow."
Kael's heart pounded.
"I know that name," he said slowly. "He was sealed before the Weavers were born. Before even Tyrnex."
Tyrnex's new form trembled slightly.
"He was the first to reject the Loom."
Lyra's eyes narrowed. "And if he's back?"
Kael turned, face hardening with divine resolve.
"Then someone out there opened the wrong thread. And now the one who once sought to undo existence itself is no longer just a myth."
He turned back to the Loom.
"We need to find the source of the signal. The Looms aren't just broken. They're being rewritten… by something older than fate itself."
Valen's spear shimmered into his hand. "So what's the plan?"
Kael raised his hand—and the Loom responded. Threads parted, revealing a gateway between realities, shimmering and unstable.
"We cross the boundary," he said. "Into the lost threads. Into realms forgotten by time. And we find whoever dares call themselves a godkiller."
He stepped through the portal, light swirling around him.
And thus began a new war—not to save the world, but to defend the concept of reality itself.
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