I. The Loom's Whisper
The thread burned in Kael's palm—not with heat, but with something deeper, more primordial. It pulsed in time with his symbiont, resonating with the echoes left behind in the Weave.
He had held fragments of the Veil before—shards, relics, remnants of Lyra's essence. But this?
This was alive.
Veyra's holoreel scanned the thread, its projections flickering erratically. "This isn't just Veil energy. It's…" She hesitated. "It's rewriting itself in real time."
Kael exhaled slowly. "Then it's a guide."
Jara folded her arms. "Or a trap."
Seris studied Kael. "Either way, it's a thread you can't ignore."
Kael tightened his grip.
Find the Lost Thread.
The Loomwalker leader's last words echoed in his mind. Whatever this path was, it wouldn't be a straight one.
And the first step was already unfolding.
The thread tugged.
Not forward, but down.
And beneath the Nexus, the Rift opened.
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II. Descent into the Rift
The ground trembled as the Nexus parted, revealing a spiraling abyss of tangled light and shadow. This was not a natural chasm—it was woven, a deliberate construct threading itself into reality.
The Loomwalkers stepped back.
Tarek scowled. "And let me guess. We're going in."
Kael nodded. "We don't have a choice."
The descent was weightless. The deeper they went, the less gravity held sway. Time itself felt… stretched.
Shapes flickered in the abyss—fragments of other places. Ruins from forgotten civilizations. Skies that never belonged to this world.
Seris reached out. "These aren't illusions. They're… memories."
Kael frowned. "Memories of what?"
A voice answered.
"Of those who came before."
And the Rift awoke.
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III. The Riftborn
They landed in a chamber of shifting realities, where the walls breathed with celestial light. But they were not alone.
Figures emerged from the fractured edges, their forms marked by Veil-woven scars. Not like the Hollow Ones—there was no madness here. Only purpose.
A woman stepped forward, her gaze locked on Kael.
"You are the one who carries the Thread."
Kael's symbiont flared. "Who are you?"
The woman's presence was ancient, yet she looked no older than Kael himself.
"We are the Riftborn. The last who remember the Loom as it was."
Jara tensed. "Survivors?"
The Riftborn woman's expression darkened. "Exiles."
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IV. The Riftborn Oath
The Riftborn had been keepers of the Loom, long before the Veil's fall. When the first fractures appeared, they had tried to warn the Architects, but their voices had been drowned in the echoes of war.
So they had done the only thing they could.
They had sealed themselves away, anchoring themselves within the Rift—to preserve what little remained of the old world.
Veyra narrowed her eyes. "If you had the power to stop the collapse, why didn't you?"
The Riftborn leader—the woman who had spoken first—stepped closer.
"Because the collapse was not an accident."
The room stilled.
Kael's heartbeat thundered. "What are you saying?"
The Riftborn woman met his gaze.
"Someone unmade the Veil."
And suddenly, the war Kael had fought—everything he had lost—was no longer just a tragedy.
It was a crime.
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V. The Lost Thread's Secret
The Riftborn guided them deeper into the Rift, to a sanctum where Veil-shards hovered like dying stars.
Here, the truth lay waiting.
Seris brushed her fingers over one of the fragments. It pulsed with recognition.
Memories unfolded—not visions, but records, woven into the fabric of the Rift itself.
They saw the Architects in their final moments, not fighting to preserve the Veil, but shattering it with their own hands.
They saw Lyra—standing at the heart of the Loom—pleading with them to stop.
And then, a name echoed through the Rift.
A name Kael had never wanted to hear again.
Eos Veyra.
Veyra went rigid beside him. "…No."
The Riftborn woman's voice was quiet, but firm. "The Veil did not fall on its own. Your mother destroyed it."
Silence fell like a dying star.
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VI. Betrayal's Shadow
Veyra's breath was unsteady.
Kael turned to her, his mind struggling to process. "You… you knew?"
Veyra's hands clenched into fists. "I suspected. But never this."
Jara's voice was low, sharp. "Then why the hell didn't you say something?"
Veyra's eyes flashed. "Because it didn't make sense."
She turned to the Riftborn. "Why would my mother destroy the very thing she spent her life protecting?"
The Riftborn woman's gaze was unreadable.
"Because she saw what lay beyond the Veil."
And in those words, Kael felt the horror lurking just beneath the surface.
The Veil had been a barrier. A shield between their world and something else.
And Eos Veyra had chosen to break it.
Tarek exhaled. "So what's on the other side?"
The Riftborn woman's expression darkened.
"Something that should never have been woken."
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VII. The Path Forward
The Rift trembled. The Frayed Ones had followed them here, drawn to the Thread in Kael's grasp.
The Riftborn warriors readied their weapons.
But Kael was no longer thinking about the battle.
He was thinking about his mother.
About the choice she had made.
And about the Lost Thread—Lyra's presence, hidden within the Loom.
Because if the Riftborn were right, then Lyra had known.
She had tried to stop it.
And that meant she might be the only one who still could.
Kael clenched his fists.
"We find Lyra."
And this time, he wasn't just searching for a sister.
He was searching for the truth.
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