Chapter 2 - Threads of Glass

The moment Rael touched the shard, the world screamed.

Not aloud—not in sound—but through pressure. A sharp, impossible weight pressed against his thoughts, like a hundred fractured timelines trying to force themselves into one skull.

His knees hit the earth.

ThreadSight flared out of control. The faint silver strands that once flickered at the edge of vision now burst across his sight in chaotic spirals. They spun, twisted, knotted—each one a possible future fraying at the edge.

The shard in his palm pulsed red, bleeding heat into his skin.

[System Sync: 42%]

[ThreadSight Lv.1 → Lv.2]

[Stability Margin Increased]

[Temporary Resonance Detected: Anchor Shard Sync Spike]

Rael gasped.

The shard didn't feel like an artifact. It felt like a scream trapped in crystal. Thousands of memories—not his—pressed against the inside of his skull. Echoes of decisions, regrets, timelines that had long since splintered.

His fingers trembled.

Then—

A voice.

"You're not supposed to be down here."

Clear. Calm. Female.

And something about it cut through the spiraling static in his thoughts like a blade through mist.

Rael forced himself to look up.

A young woman stood a few steps away, barely visible through the veil of flickering threadlines. She wore travel leathers and a long gray cloak, silver-threaded around the edges—not a courtier's robe, but something practical. Meant to move in. Her eyes were gold, steady and unreadable, and her dark braid glinted with a streak of silver in the dim light.

"I said," she repeated, tone neutral, "you're not supposed to be here."

Rael blinked, trying to speak. But the words caught, tangled in the weight of a dozen not-quite-real timelines.

She stepped closer.

The threads pulsing around him slowed.

Just slightly.

Rael noticed it immediately. The fraying threads that surged when he touched the shard—the ones he couldn't stop from tearing—softened near her.

The system flickered.

[External Influence Detected]

[Thread Interference Level: Reduced]

[Stabilizer Potential: Present]

Stabilizer?

Rael's breath caught.

A stabilizer was… what? A system role? A person? Or was the system just slapping a label on something it didn't understand? The word tugged at something deeper, older. Like he'd seen it before—somewhere far behind the veil of fractured memory.

"Who… are you?" he asked.

She studied him. "Someone trying to keep fools like you from killing themselves with untested relics."

Rael chuckled, though it came out ragged. "Too late."

She didn't laugh. Just extended a hand.

He hesitated—then took it.

Warm.

Grounded.

And the moment their hands touched, the chaos of threads receded just a little more.

They sat under the ruined stone canopy just beyond the buried shrine.

Rael's fingers still tingled where the shard had melted into his palm. The weight in his skull had dulled, but the echo hadn't faded completely. He could still feel the paths—the broken choices the shard had stored.

"Most shards are sealed for a reason," the woman said, glancing at him. "Anchor shards, especially."

Rael rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It called to me."

She raised a brow.

"I don't mean that metaphorically," he added. "I saw it through ThreadSight. It was… tangled. Like it didn't want to stay buried."

She leaned forward slightly. "ThreadSight. That's what your system gave you?"

Rael hesitated. "You know about systems."

Her lips curved faintly. "Everyone here does. Most just don't talk about them in public."

"…Mine's not normal."

"I figured."

They sat in silence for a beat.

Then: "Rael," he said. "My name."

"Elira," she replied. "And if you're serious about touching shards without protections, I'm going to have to start walking ten steps behind you in case you explode."

He huffed a laugh.

It hurt to laugh. But it helped.

Rael studied her out of the corner of his eye.

She didn't look like a noble, or a scavenger. And the way she moved—measured, deliberate—suggested she'd seen real battle. But more than that, it was the way the threads reacted to her presence.

Near Elira, the chaos dimmed. Even his system's flickering interface seemed more stable.

And deep down, something clicked.

Not logic. Not instinct.

Recognition.

She was tied to his path. He could feel it, even if he didn't yet understand why.

Later, back in the outskirts of Kareth's outer district, Rael sat in the shade of a weathered tower. Elira leaned against the stone nearby, arms folded.

"You're not from around here," she said.

Rael shook his head. "Not exactly."

"Let me guess. You don't remember where you're from."

His silence gave her the answer.

Elira sighed. "You're not the first. Not here. Kareth attracts all kinds—runaways, broken systems, forgotten names. People who... slipped through the cracks."

Rael looked down at his hand. The shard's burn had left no mark, but he still felt it there. Pressed into his skin like a second heartbeat.

"My system is... wrong," he said quietly. "Glitched. Or incomplete."

Elira tilted her head. "Still working, though."

"Barely."

A pause.

Then she said, "I've seen a few like you before. Not many. But enough to know you're not a fluke."

Rael looked up.

"You have that look in your eyes," Elira continued. "Like you're being unraveled from the inside. But you're still holding on."

The system responded.

[Stabilizer Link: Inactive → Partial]

[System Sync: 42% → 46%]

[Mental Strain: Reduced]

Rael blinked at the message.

A moment later, a softer one followed.

[Emotional Anchor Identified]

[Stabilizer Traits Compatible — Monitoring Link Stability Over Time]

"…What is it?" Elira asked.

Rael looked at her.

And for the first time since awakening, the static in his mind eased enough for him to smile.

"You really might keep me from exploding."

As night fell over Kareth, the wind shifted—carrying with it the scent of rust and rain.

Rael stood at the edge of the tower, watching the flickering city lights below. Threads pulsed faintly through his vision. Calmer now. More coherent.

He could see lines leading toward noble houses, flickering around towers, coiling through the slums. But the brightest thread wasn't any of those.

It was the one trailing from his hand—thin, steady, and gold-tinged.

Leading to Elira.

She hadn't said much since dusk. She simply sat nearby, watching the horizon.

Rael finally spoke.

"You said this city attracts the broken. What does it do with them?"

Elira's eyes never left the skyline. "Some mend. Some rot. Some vanish."

"And the rest?"

"They change the city."

Rael nodded slowly.

Then, more quietly: "I think I need to become one of those."