Two weeks had gone by, he was currently in the country of Thal. This was second time he had been to Thal, first it was years ago when he came training under Marcus and now he comes as a prisoner.
Although to the normal person it did not seem like that, Neil knew better. For the past two weeks he had been mourning his brother in silent, refusing to eat or leave his designated room.
Maids would enter his room three times a day to clean and bring food yet he did not budge. He lay on the floor unmoving.
He only moved once when Marcus had complained about him stinking up his place, that was when he began to bath. Yet apart from bathing he did nothing else, he would stay on the bed staring at the ceiling with a distant gaze.
The scene of his brother dying repeating countless times each day, he replayed the scene so many times that he became numb to it.
Today was different, his mind had decided to stop torturing him with the scene of Kyle dying.
The last two weeks he felt although he was too drained to dwell on the subject, it started right after his parents left the reinforced cell he was placed in.
At first he thought himself to be crazy yet the voices became louder, each day taunting him, some praising him and some pleading with him.
A metallic shriek, rang in his ears. Thousands distorted voices screamed in his head, he clutched his head trying to silence the noise.
The he heard his brother's voice.
And then it was whispers that weren't his brother's.
He began questioning his sanity.
Then the whispers began answering him.
(You should not have touched it.)
(You broke the thread.)
(It bleeds now, because of you.)
And then, the world stopped.
No sound.
No wind.
No heartbeat.
Only a silence so heavy it felt like gravity had tripled.
Then came the distortion.
The walls folded inward, warping like reflections in molten glass. The bed bent, stretching infinitely and collapsing in the same instant. The floor beneath him pulsed like a vein.
The shadows peeled off the walls andslithered upward.
Neil couldn't breathe.
His lungs moved, but the air refused to follow.
Then—
[FRAMEWORK INITIALIZING ]
The words didn't appear in front of him, they carved themselves into his vision - black text bleeding through light along with the slightly mechanical, yet soft as breath voice.
Horrified, he stumbled back.
[stitchpoint Located]
[Signal Source: Human Vessel — Compromised]
[Initializing Integrity Sequence…]
The words bleed through the light again and the voice spoke once more:
[Framework Synchronization — Commencing.]
Neil clutched his head again gasping. The sound vibrated inside his skull like grinding metal.
Just like the last time the air itself seemed to split, forming a black fissure that pulsed with red light.
The fissure bled light.
Glass-like fragments formed before him, floating mid-air — black, reflective, edged in silver veins that pulsed like veins beneath translucent skin.
Each panel flickered between reflection and code, glitching like reality itself was rendering.
His reflection appeared in one panel — fractured.
[Integrity: 61%]
[Essence Flow: Instable]
[Host Cognitive Resistance: Low
Neil shut his eyes yet the panels were still there, floating in darkness.
"Stop... Please."
He trembled slightly as tears fell down his face.
[Command Recognized.]
[Boot sequence: complete]
[System Online.]
[WELCOME, NEIL THORNE.]
[FRAMEWORK NETWORK: USERS ONLINE — 5 / 5]
...GLITCH...
...RECALIBRATING...
[FRAMEWORK NETWORK: USERS ONLINE — 4 / 4] ⚠ ANOMALY: SLOT MISSING
[REGISTERED PATHS — ACTIVE NODES]
1) Reality Stitcher ....... Status: ACTIVE
— User: NEIL THORNE
2) Dusk Herald ........ Status: ACTIVE
— User: nil
3) Ashbound ......... Status: ACTIVE
— User: nil
4) Dreamforger ......... Status: ACTIVE
— User: nil
[ORPHAN SLOT: #5 — ENTRY: ERASED / UNRESOLVED]
[NOTE: EXTERNAL SIGNATURE: NULL]
[CONSENSUS PROTOCOL: SYNTHESIZING]
[FRAMEWORK NOTE: "The Loom breathes with fewer hands. The stitch must be remade."]
[MODULES ONLINE: STITCH | ANCHOR | THREAD TRACE]
[INTEGRITY: 64%] [ESSENCE BALANCE: RED 72 : BLUE 28]
"what is happening to me?"
He asked, and the mechanical voice respond
[User has awakened the framework.]
Neil slowly got up, the voice spoke in his head yet he could hear the echoes in his ears.
"What is the framework?"
He asked after a few minute, this time the voice's responses were short and direct.
[The Framework System is a metaphysical structure that is tied to the beginning of everything.]
Neil sat on the bed and contemplated what he was told, the answer was vague and he doubted he could get a clearer answer if he asked again.
"What abilities does framework grant me?"
He asked the question after looking at his registered path a couple of times and not understanding it's core function, unlike the twelve systems which were direct the framework appeared to be more elusive and slightly Sentient.
[The framework does not grant you anything, it awakens.]
The mechanical voice then added:
[Framework note : "You see what others ignore — the strands that hold the world together."]
[Unlocked Abilities:
Threadsight (Basic):
Can glimpse faint silver-red lines between people, objects, or ideas when emotionally heightened. Causes headaches, nosebleeds.
Minor Stitch:
Temporarily binds simple concepts — e.g., seal a bleeding wound, link a flame to a touch. Duration: 10–30 seconds.
Thread Trace (Embryonic):
Can sense the faint presence of recent actions or emotions tied to a place or item.
Costs:
Each use drains Integrity (2–5%). Overuse distorts sight and sound; reality starts "whispering" to him.]
Neil stared at the interface in shock, what was this? He had never heard of a system path that granted or using the Framework's voice "awakens" such abilities.
"What about physical stats? Does the Framework not improve one's physical stats, and what about the Framework'S destructive capabilities?"
In the world he lived in where the threat of the Conspiracy continued to grow, strength was everything especially for him. Having enough raw capabilities to be able to defend himself and possibly others was something he had always wished for.
[Reality is within your grasp.]
The Framework's tone suggested it was mocking him. These abilities he gained had a lot of room for growth that is if the framework could grow.
"Does the Framework support growth or does it have a threshold, which can't be bypassed similar to the Systems of the Blessed?"
Intrigued by the possibilities this syststem might grant him Neil began asking important questions, The framework answered every single one of his question
[The Framework System is a metaphysical structure that governs progression. So to answer your question, yes there is room for growth without a threshold.]
Before Neil could get more answers from the Framework, the door to his room opened revealing Marcus. The old man regarded him with a calm gaze, eventually smirking.
"You look like you have some life in you today, in that case shall we take a walk?"
Neil looked around the spacious room and eventually nodded, he had been in the place for two weeks and he had not once took time to take in his surroundings.
The guest room was wide and open, with plenty of space to move around. The walls were plain, painted a soft, light color that made the room feel brighter. In one corner stood a simple bed, neatly made with clean sheets, and a small nightstand beside it.
There wasn't much else—no clutter, no extra decorations—just enough for someone to stay comfortably for a short visit. The floor was smooth and clear, and a window let in sunlight, making the space feel calm and easy to be in. Yet this was Neil's prison, this is where he was confined even though the shackles binding him was in the form of a skinny old man with a cane and a head full of gray hair.
"sure."
...
When Marcus suggested they took a walk he thought maybe it was a walk down the garden or something like that. He did not expect the old man to drag him down Thal's capital city, Warhold, Neil knew the history of all the countries in the world and his parents made sure he knew all of it by heart.
Thal is a country steeped in history, it was once a battleground where the main war between The Twelve champions and the Conspiracy had been concluded thousand of years ago. Now, it was a peaceful land that housed the direct descendants of a legendary champion. The country had many ancient ruins and old fortresses scattered across the landscape, and the cities that were habitable were not a lot.
The people in Thal had different traditions than, those of the ones in Vanderholt and the most important piece of information was that there were no social classes in Thal every citizen was of great importance to the country and it only had one leader whom Neil was currently taking a stroll with down the streets of Warhold.
The people of Warhold, stared at them in awe and some even gave Marcus gifts as they were walking. The stone walls surrounding Warhold weathered but sturdy, remnants of a time when defense was paramount. The city blended practicality and history—narrow streets winding between low, terraced buildings with clay-tiled roofs, and occasional watchtowers to keep an eye out for low ranking conspirers. Cobblestone roads carry the impressions of carts and horses, the faint scent of smoke and baked bread hanged in the air.
Unlike Vanderholt they were not a country involved in technological growth, they preferred their old yet fixedd ways compared to the ever-changing ways of technology.
The people of Thal dress simply. Men wore tunics of muted earth tones—brown, ochre, and grey—paired with durable trousers and leather boots worn soft by long use. Women wore long skirts and linen blouses, often layered with shawls or aprons for work in the fields or at home. Hoods and wide-brimmed hats shield them from sun and wind alike, belts often carry small tools, pouches, or knives for daily tasks. Their clothing is practical first, decorative second.
The streets were busy, their stroll was slow and unbothered besides the occasional stops they made when citizens would come to greet their leader.
Neil's mind was still reeling with questions, from his brother's death to his awakening but now was not the best time to look for answers.
"As you might have guessed, you are currently a prisoner. Although I am against it, it was the only way to keep you alive."
Old man Marcus started the conversation with a direct approach, his straight forward character was thhe reason why out of all the rulers the old man was his favorite.
"The conspiracy have already infiltrated every single country including my own, we still don't truly know what their motive is except for the one everyone is told-"
Neil interjected.
"To devour our world."
Old man Marcus nodded, he seemed to be leading him somewhere. They soon reached the outskirts of the city, they were near the colossal gates. When the guards saw them they all bowed, mainly to the old man.
"Open the gates"
The old man instructed, he glanced over to Neil and winked. I am going to take you to a place where the final battle concluded thousands of years ago.