THE ECHO OF VOID

The figure stepped closer, the weight of their presence bearing down on Mildred like a storm. Though the shard within her flared with defiance, it could not dispel the oppressive air that surrounded them.

"I had to come," Mildred said firmly, her voice cutting through the silence. "Your realm severed itself, but the thread still exists. That means there's a chance to restore what was lost."

The figure laughed, a hollow sound that echoed like splintering glass. "Restore? You speak of restoration as if it's a gift freely given. But what do you know of what was lost? What do you know of the cost?"

Mildred clenched her fists, the cold seeping into her bones. "I know what it means to fight for balance, to heal what others deem broken. If you tell me what happened, maybe I can help."

The figure's face remained hidden, but their tone sharpened. "Help? You think you can mend centuries of unraveling? Do you even understand the void you tread upon?"

Mildred took a step closer, her determination unwavering despite the growing tension. "Then help me understand. I'm here because I refuse to believe it's too late."

For a moment, the figure was silent, their form flickering like a candle caught in a gust of wind. Then, they turned fully to face her, revealing eyes that burned with a faint, eerie light.

"This realm," they began, their voice softer now, "was not severed by chance. It was torn away by choice. A choice born of despair, of a belief that the Loom only binds us in chains. The others called it freedom. I called it folly."

Mildred frowned. "You didn't agree with them?"

The figure shook their head. "No. But I was too weak to stop it. I watched as our leaders cut the thread, as they cast us into this abyss. And now, I am all that remains—a shadow, a remnant of what was once whole."

Mildred's heart ached at the weight of their words. "If you regret what happened, then let me help. Maybe the Loom can still—"

The figure's voice rose sharply, cutting her off. "The Loom cannot undo what we have become! Do you think you're the first to try? The void consumes all who enter, Guardian. You may have the shard, but it will not save you from the truth of this place."

Mildred met their burning gaze, refusing to back down. "Then tell me. What truth am I missing?"

The figure hesitated, their light dimming as though the effort to speak was a burden. "The void does not hunger for the light, as you might think. It hungers for those who carry it. The stronger your connection to the Loom, the more it will seek to unmake you."

Mildred's hand instinctively moved to the shard at her chest, its warmth a stark contrast to the icy air. "If that's true, why haven't you been consumed?"

The figure turned away, their voice barely audible. "Because I no longer carry the light."

A chill ran through mildred as realization dawned. "You severed yourself from the Loom entirely."

The figure nodded, their form flickering again. "It was the only way to survive. But survival is not life. I exist, nothing more."

Mildred's resolve hardened. "Then let me bring the light back. Not just to you, but to this realm. If there's even a sliver of hope, I have to try."

The figure turned back to her, their eyes searching hers. "You're a fool, Guardian. But perhaps that is what this place needs—a fool who dares to believe."

As their words faded, the ground beneath Mildred began to tremble. The void seemed to shift, its darkness swirling like a living thing.

"You've awakened the void's attention," the figure warned. "If you wish to leave, now is your chance."

Mildred shook her head. "I didn't come here to leave. I came here to save this realm."

The figure's faint light brightened, a flicker of something unspoken passing across their shadowed face. "Then may the Loom have mercy on you, Guardian. For the void will not."

As the darkness surged toward her, Mildred planted her feet, the shard within her blazing brighter than ever. She gripped the energy of the Loom and prepared to face the void's fury head-on.