The chamber dimmed behind him, and the heavy stone doors sealed with a final clunk, cutting off the world beyond the Heart of the Loom.
His hands still trembled slightly from the strain of Thread Manipulation — not from exhaustion, but from the sheer scale of what he had just seen. The Loom hadn't just tested him.
It had read him.
[Thread Affinity Detected: Sovereign Weave – Class: Unknown]
Hidden System Path Unlocked: ❖ [Sovereign of Strands] ❖
Warning: System Evolution Detected. Subroutines may destabilize.
So the System was evolving with him. Or maybe because of him.
He wasn't just a pawn moving through the board.
He was becoming the one weaving it.
A laugh—dry, short, humorless—escaped his lips. He had always been a planner, a manipulator. But now? Now, the System responded to that control. To that ambition. To that ruthless clarity.
And yet, there was still a gap — one he couldn't fully map.
A piece missing.
No.
A person missing.
Aboveground, in the crumbling corridors of the old magistrate's building, Sevan and Iri stood back-to-back, swords out, surrounded by masked figures clad in crimson and bronze.
The Red Accord had arrived — faster than expected.
Sevan's voice was calm. "This isn't random. They knew we'd be here."
"They smelled the Loom's awakening," Iri hissed, blood dripping from a cut across her jaw. "They're not here for us. They're here for him."
As if in answer, one of the masked enemies stepped forward.
"Return the Weaver," the voice said — metallic, androgynous, and cold. "Or die beneath the frayed edge of destiny."
Below, in the chamber, the Protagonist's eye twitched.
His System pulsed.
[Link Detected: Combat Scenario – Allies in Peril]
Skill Tree: Sovereign of Strands – Sub-Node Available: Thread Projection
Unlock Thread Projection? (Cost: 1 Soul Core)
Warning: Core Consumption is irreversible.
He didn't hesitate.
[Thread Projection – Activated]
The air split around him like glass shattering. And then, in a breathless moment, he was above — not physically, but through the threads that connected him to Iri and Sevan. Threads of loyalty, forged through shared fire.
His consciousness unfurled like silk across the battlefield.
And he wove.
Dozens of Red Accord assassins screamed as invisible threads lashed across their bodies — slicing tendon, binding limbs, tearing away weapons with surgical precision.
In the center of the chaos, Iri felt her blade guide itself, enhanced by the unseen touch of her ally. Sevan moved with precision no man had ever taught him — as if fate itself had rehearsed this battle for him.
It was not divine intervention.
It was the touch of a Sovereign.
When it was over, only ash and silence remained.
The Protagonist stood atop the stairs, now fully present, his eyes glinting with the eerie silver glow of activated Thread Sight.
"You two," he said. "We don't have time."
"Time for what?" Iri asked, breathless, still gripping her sword.
He looked toward the horizon — where three moons had begun to align.
"The prophecy of the Loom isn't a myth."
He turned, voice calm, but laced with an edge sharp as steel:
"It's a warning."