I couldn't sleep.
Not because I wasn't tired—but because the moment my eyes closed, I saw it.
The Loom.
Not broken, but reborn—twisting itself into something new, something monstrous. Its threads no longer golden and serene, but writhing, dark, and sharp like thorns. It stood in the middle of an endless void, and at its heart…
…was me.
When I opened my eyes, the realm had changed again.
We had set up camp by a waterfall of shimmering stars, but it had dried during the night. The sky above had turned crimson, and strange black blossoms were growing out of the air like thoughts made physical.
"Something's wrong," Kael said. "This place reacts to you, Sera—but now, it feels like something else is pushing through you."
I nodded silently.
I could feel it too.
There was a presence inside me, older than memory, heavier than time. It wasn't the Loom itself. No. It was the consciousness buried deep in the threads—the original will behind destiny. A being that had ruled silently for millennia, using desire as a leash. Now it was free, and it was looking for a vessel.
And I had opened the door.
"You were chosen long before you were born," the voice whispered again. "You are the final Threadbearer. My heir. My hand."
"I didn't choose this," I growled aloud.
Kael and Riven looked at me.
"Sera?" Kael asked cautiously. "Who are you talking to?"
I looked at him, tears pricking the corners of my eyes.
"I think I'm talking to the thing that used to control the Loom."
Riven cursed under his breath. "That explains why this place is twisting more violently now. You didn't just break fate. You awakened its creator."
The air thickened. A shadow formed above us—tall, towering, cloaked in threads that shimmered like oil.
It didn't have a face. It didn't need one.
I felt its hunger. Its longing.
It wanted me back.
"You are the Desire Engine," it hissed in a voice like unraveling silk. "And without you, chaos will swallow all."
Kael stepped in front of me, blades drawn.
"No one's taking her."
Riven pulled a rune-dagger from his coat, planting his feet beside Kael.
"She's not yours."
I stepped between them.
"No," I whispered, voice shaking, "she's not even mine right now."
Then I turned and faced the being of threads.
"If you want me," I said, raising my arms as my mark began to glow white-hot, "then come and see what I've become."
The sky split open again.
And the battle for my soul began.
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