The passage closed behind them with a soft sigh, swallowing the light of the ruins and plunging them into a twilight realm where time and space bent unnaturally.
Here, stars hung low like lanterns, their light casting fractured shadows that danced across walls of woven light and darkness. The very air shimmered with raw creation and destruction, as if the fabric of reality was exposed and vulnerable.
Aloysius's shard pulsed urgently, guiding them deeper into the labyrinthine expanse. "This is the Weaver's domain where the curse began."
Elyon's eyes scanned the surroundings warily. "Power this ancient is never without cost."
Kaelis tightened her grip on her sword, senses alert. "We've come too far to turn back now."
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shifting mists neither fully human nor divine, clothed in threads of shimmering light that twisted and reformed like living tapestry.
"I am the Weaver," the figure intoned, voice echoing with the weight of countless ages. "You seek to undo what was woven long ago. But unraveling the tapestry risks unraveling all."
Aloysius stepped forward, determination blazing in his eyes. "We don't want destruction. We want balance restored on our terms."
The Weaver smiled, threads of light weaving intricate patterns in the air. "Then prove you are worthy. The final trial awaits."