Chapter Forty-Five – Echoes of the Threadless

The wind was no longer wind.

It whispered in voices—ancient and new—all speaking in echoes of freedom and fear. The world was changing, and it knew who was to blame.

Me.

We stepped through the glowing rift left behind by the Loom, entering a realm that had no name. A place between time, between the threads of reality. Floating islands drifted above seas of starlight. Storms of memory brewed in the distance. Every law of magic, of nature, twisted into something unfamiliar.

"This… isn't just a new world," Riven murmured. "It's the raw version of our world—before the threads were ever woven."

Kael nodded slowly. "Unwritten space. A place where desire alone can manifest."

I stood at the edge of a cliff, watching a mountain form in the sky—then collapse into ash seconds later. Nothing here was fixed. Everything responded to will.

And that was the danger.

"This place reflects us," I said quietly. "Our desires, our fears. It can be shaped—but it can also shape us."

The ground beneath us trembled. A roar echoed across the realm.

From the horizon, shadows surged forward—not beasts, not people. Threadlings. Echoes of the Loom's will, fragments desperate to stitch the world back together. Their eyes glowed with the same runes that once circled the Loom.

"They want to reverse what you did," Kael warned, blades already in his hands.

"No," I said, eyes narrowing. "They want to trap us back in fate."

And I wouldn't allow it.

I stepped forward, the mark on my hand pulsing like a heartbeat. Energy surged from beneath my skin—gold and black spirals swirling up my arm, crackling through the air. The Threadlings hesitated.

"Not this time," I said. "This world bends to desire."

I raised my hand—and with a whisper, I commanded the shadows to break.

A pulse of light exploded outward. The Threadlings shrieked as they unraveled mid-charge, fading into dust.

Riven stood beside me, silent. Kael slowly lowered his blades.

"You're not just changing the world," Riven said. "You're becoming something more than mortal."

I turned toward them.

"No. I'm just becoming myself."

But deep inside, I felt it.

The mark was spreading.

And power—real, ancient, limitless—was waking up inside me.

This was just the beginning.

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