The sky was whole again. But silence lingered—not the silence of peace, but the kind that settles after screaming. A hush where truth waits to be spoken.
Kael stood on the fractured remains of the battlefield, hands trembling. His blade had vanished, absorbed by the rift. Around him, the remnants of Null's army faded like bad dreams finally forgotten.
Aeris knelt nearby, her wings curled inward as if shielding something fragile. Her face was pale, lips slightly parted—not in pain, but in wonder. A soft glow pulsed from her chest, faint but steady.
Kael rushed to her.
"I'm fine," she whispered before he could ask, her hand catching his. "But something… something's changed."
Before Kael could reply, a low hum vibrated through the air. Not a threat—no, something older.
Time itself was breathing again.
Dray approached, leaning heavily on his staff. His robes were torn, and silver streaks now marred his hair, but his eyes were brighter than Kael had ever seen. "The cycle's been broken. Null was the convergence—a failed god built from our failures. We destroyed him, but…"
"But what?" Kael asked.
Dray looked at the sky, which now shimmered not with stars, but with windows. Thousands of them. Glimpses into other lives, other choices.
Veyra joined them last. Her face was bruised, her coat bloodstained, her jaw set in grim resolve.
"This isn't over," she said flatly. "You don't kill entropy. You redirect it. Null was never the beginning. Just a gatekeeper. And we forced the gate open."
Kael turned toward the horizon. There, rising like a second sun, was a structure unlike anything they had seen before—impossibly large, woven from raw light and memory. It pulsed with every breath the universe took.
"What is that?" Aeris asked quietly.
Dray replied, voice solemn. "The Loom."
"The what?"
"The Loom of Futures. Where all possible realities are woven—and unmade."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "And someone is sitting at the spindle."
Veyra's lips thinned. "Exactly. Null was a herald. The true architect... we haven't met them yet."
Aeris stood slowly, wings spreading as energy coursed through her. "Then what are we waiting for?"
A sudden scream shattered the moment—a sound that did not come from any of them, but from inside the Loom.
It echoed across time, rippling through the sky, twisting the reflections in the windows. One showed Aeris dying at Kael's hands. Another showed Veyra crowned queen of ruins. One window showed Dray smiling—while the world burned behind him.
The scream came again.
Louder.
Closer.
Kael gritted his teeth. "We broke the cycle. But now we've woken the weaver."
A long shadow stretched across the earth as the Loom began to spin faster, its light flickering wildly. The air became heavy, as if existence itself were watching them.
Then, a name slipped from Aeris's lips. A name she hadn't said aloud in years.
"Nytheris."
The others turned sharply.
Kael frowned. "Who is Nytheris?"
Aeris's hands trembled.
"She was my sister."
The ground cracked beneath them. And far above, in the heart of the Loom, a face began to take shape—one Aeris had buried deep in memory, now reborn in myth.
Dray cursed under his breath. "Looks like the past isn't done with us."
Kael drew a breath. "Then neither are we."
Together, they turned toward the Loom.
And began to walk.
Toward the scream.
Toward the truth.
Toward the next war.