A crack split down the cavern ceiling.
Another.
The world around them buckled.
Cain strained, muscles shaking, trying to force one arm upward. His fingertips brushed the thread—and pain shot through him like molten iron.
The Watcher tilted his head.
"Mortals don't touch their own fate. Their minds can't withstand it."
Cain didn't care.
He pushed again.
The Watcher raised a brow. "Stop. You'll tear yourself apart."
Cain pressed harder.
His hand closed around the thread.
The cavern detonated with sound and light.
The Watcher staggered back, shock flashing across his face.
"You—Cain, release it—"
Cain didn't.
He forced himself upright, gripping the burning silver strand with both hands. The heat scalded. His bones shook. His vision blurred into static.
But he didn't let go.
Not this time.
Not ever again.
His voice cut through the roar of collapsing stone.
"This is my story. If the world wants to break, let it. I'm not bending anymore."
The thread pulsed.
Once.
