The sky pulsed with lightless clouds, and the air held no wind—only pressure. Luna, Rae, and Aelius stood inside a ring of floating thread symbols, facing the mirrored versions of themselves.
The Seamstress' voice echoed across the void:
"To weave new fate, one must untangle old lies. Face yourselves—or vanish."
First: Rae
He stood face-to-face with his younger self.
The boy trembled, blood on his hands. Behind him, a burning loom, and Yuna—collapsing.
"You said you'd protect her!" the boy shouted. "You said you'd never let them touch her!"
Rae clenched his jaw. "I tried. I gave up my fate to keep her alive—"
"—And in doing so, cursed her path," the boy snapped back. "You made a deal with the gods that twisted her thread before she was even ready to weave it herself!"
Images flashed in the sky—Luna crying, Luna lost, Luna bleeding in the forest.
Rae fell to his knees.
"I thought I was saving her."
The boy stepped forward, eyes full of hatred and sorrow.
"You saved her from fate. But you never saved her from you."
Second: Aelius
He faced himself—not as a boy, but as a godlike version, cloaked in silver flame. Eyes glowing with destruction.
"You can't protect her," the doppelganger said. "You were made to end her."
"I won't," Aelius growled.
"You will. Your thread was forged by divine order. Every time you care, you risk killing her."
The fake Aelius raised his blade. "The gods made you their weapon. You love her? Then finish her now, before fate does."
Aelius screamed in fury, slamming his blade against the clone's—steel clashing against soul.
And then—he did the unthinkable.
He dropped his sword.
"I'd rather die than raise my hand to her."
His thread flickered—just for a moment—back to silver.
Last: Luna
She stood before the younger version of herself.
Tangled. Crying. Afraid. Her silver thread was coiled around her neck like a leash.
"I don't know who I am," the younger Luna whispered. "I'm just a thread someone else pulled into the world."
"You were made," adult Luna said. "But I chose who I became."
The girl looked up. "Then prove it."
The thread around her neck tightened.
Luna reached out, hands glowing silver.
And pulled.
The thread snapped.
The younger Luna smiled—then vanished into light.
The field began to shake.
Threads swirled wildly, then stilled.
The Seamstress floated down, gaze unreadable.
"You broke your pasts. But fate is still wounded. It demands a cost."
She looked at Luna.
"You have one more choice. Return to the Loom… or rewrite fate—but if you do, one thread among you must be cut."
Luna's eyes widened.
"A sacrifice?"
The Seamstress nodded.
"One thread. One life. One choice."