~ "Not all shortcuts are lies. But some truths wear masks." ~
The path beyond Nyxi's grove was quiet, too quiet the kind of quiet that watches you, listens to your heartbeat, and counts your every step.
Spidey walked slower now.
Ever since Nyxi's confession that she had once been human, a weaver who sacrificed her form to protect the Web something had shifted. In Spidey's heart. In the air. Even the threads under her feet thrummed with a deeper ache.
> "You okay?" she whispered.
Nyxi nodded from her shoulder, but her runes dimmed like an ember trying not to fade.
They didn't speak much after that.
---
The fog thickened as they reached a place the Web did not name a valley between forgotten memories and twisted intentions. The threads here were tight and tangled, forming an eerie maze of webbed arches. Symbols pulsed faintly beneath their feet, shifting like oil on water.
Then came a sound.
Not footsteps.
Not whispers.
A giggle.
Spidey stopped mid-step.
> "Did you hear that?"
> "Yes," Nyxi said stiffly. "He's here."
> "He who?"
Nyxi didn't answer.
---
From behind one of the arches stepped a figure tall, graceful, wrapped in layers of shimmering silk. He wore a porcelain white mask painted with a perpetual grin. His robes swayed like curtains in wind, stitched with silver thread that writhed as if alive.
> "Ahhh... you must be the girl with sharp threads and sharper choices," he cooed, bowing low. "We've been watching you, Spidey."
> "We?" she asked.
> "Oh, I mean me," he smiled wider. "But isn't it always more comforting to pretend the darkness is shared?"
Nyxi stepped in front of her.
> "Silkrin. Leave."
> "Rude, as ever," Silkrin said, feigning offense. "I come bearing gifts and riddles, not curses. But fine. I'll talk to the girl."
He turned his masked face toward Spidey.
> "You've walked far. Paid in memories, in laughter, in loss. But what if I told you the Web could be mended faster? That you could skip the suffering no trials, no threads traded just results."
> "What's the price?" Spidey asked flatly.
> "Trust."
She snorted. "That's it?"
> "Oh, no. Trust... and a single thread from you. A memory. One you choose."
> "I'm already doing that."
> "Ah, but I won't ask for something painful," he said softly. "In fact, I'll take something light. A smile. A name you once whispered into the dark. Something small."
He extended a gloved hand, silk unraveling from his wrist like smoke.
Nyxi hissed. "Don't."
> "What happens if I give him a thread?" Spidey asked.
> "He binds it into his web. His story. And you never know what part of you he'll keep."
Silkrin chuckled. "You wound me, Nyxi. I keep my promises."
> "Yes. It's how you keep them that ruins people."
---
Spidey studied him the perfect mask, the warm voice, the too easy kindness.
> "Why are you helping?"
> "Because I like weavers. I was one, too, once. Until I chose a prettier face."
He turned his head, and for a moment the grin cracked.
Beneath it was nothing. No mouth. No skin. Just empty silk stitched tightly in the shape of a smile.
Spidey's breath caught.
> "You see?" he whispered. "Masks make monsters gentle."
He stepped closer. "So what will it be, dear girl? One small thread, and I mend ten for you. You'll reach the heart of the Web tomorrow."
Spidey stared at his hand.
Something shimmered in her mind — a memory flickering.
A face.
Soft eyes.
A laugh in the dark.
Someone she... loved?
But she couldn't see it clearly. Already, it was slipping.
> "No," she said suddenly, stepping back. "You don't get to take something I don't even remember yet."
> "You sure?" he asked, voice gentler. "You won't even notice it's gone. Not until years from now when you hear a voice and wonder why it breaks your heart."
Spidey hesitated. Just a breath.
And in that breath, Silkrin's threads shot forward too fast, too quiet.
Nyxi shrieked, lunging to shield Spidey.
But it was too late.
A flash.
A burning in her mind.
Then silence.
---
Spidey stood still, dazed.
Nyxi's voice sounded far away.
> "What did he take?! What did he take?!"
Spidey blinked slowly.
> "I... I don't know."
She tried to summon it the face, the warmth but there was nothing. Just a dull ache.
Silkrin chuckled from the shadows.
> "A memory of love. That was all. A face you swore never to forget. Such delicate things, promises."
> "Give it back!" Spidey yelled.
> "Ah, but you never gave it. You trusted. That was the deal."
His mask gleamed in the dark.
> "And remember, little spider... not all demons lie. Some just forget what truth is."
And then he was gone a blur of silk unraveling into the maze.
---
Spidey sank to her knees, fists clenched.
> "I should've listened. I should've seen—"
> "No," Nyxi said, crawling close. "You saw. You chose. You fought. And that's what matters."
> "But I forgot someone."
> "Then remember why you're here. And when the Web heals, perhaps that face will return."
Spidey wiped her eyes, breathing slow.
> "He wanted me to doubt myself. That's how they win."
She stood up.
> "But I'm still here. Still weaving."
And from her chest, a golden thread emerged not stolen, not stolen, offered.
She placed it into the Web herself.
And it glowed brighter than ten others.
---
The path forward opened again glowing threads parting like curtains, inviting her deeper into the realm.
Nyxi looked at her, eyes soft.
> "Even wounded weavers stitch truth."
Spidey took a breath, stepped forward.
> "Let's keep going. He got one thread. I'll give the Web a hundred more my way."
---
TO BE CONTINUED…
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