The world was still. Too still.
The remnants of the Loom were scattered, its broken threads drifting like ghostly wisps in the winds that now swept across the land. Elara stood at the center of it all, her body aching, her breath shallow, but her mind was alert, every fiber of her being attuned to the subtle tremors beneath the earth. Something was wrong. The world felt too quiet, as if it were holding its breath.
Aiden's voice cut through the silence. "Elara, we need to move. Now."
She turned to him, her eyes narrowing as she tried to focus. The landscape around them had shifted, distorted by the collapsing of the Loom. The horizon was jagged, the sky a strange, swirling mass of light and shadow. But it wasn't the world itself that unsettled her. It was the feeling that something was watching them. Something worse than the Weavers.