The chamber fell silent as the glowing figure stepped forward, her veil of light rippling like liquid thread.
No footsteps. No sound.
Just presence.
The Seamstress.
An ancient enforcer of the Loom. Not a god, not a human—something in between. She existed to keep balance, and Luna? Luna was the imbalance.
Her voice echoed through their bones, not ears.
> "Final Thread. You were never meant to awaken. Return to the Loom, or suffer unweaving."
Luna stood her ground, silver thread pulsing at her side.
"I'm not going anywhere."
The Seamstress raised her hand. A beam of golden thread shot toward Luna—but Rae dove in front of it, taking the full hit.
He dropped to the ground, gasping, thread unraveling from his shoulder.
"Rae!" Luna rushed to him.
The Seamstress didn't flinch. "He is already cursed. Sacrifice would be merciful."
Aelius stepped in, blades drawn. "You'll have to go through me too."
The Seamstress tilted her head. "Your thread is unstable. The gods marked you to become a Reaper. You cannot defy your nature."
"Watch me."
He charged.
Blades met threadlight. The impact shattered the ground. Aelius moved like a storm—fast, angry, wild. The Seamstress countered every strike with grace, her fingers weaving mid-air sigils that bent time.
But even gods could be caught off guard.
Luna joined in.
She raised her hands and felt it—the Loom inside her. Her silver thread moved not like a weapon, but like a force of nature. She willed it forward—
And it wrapped around the Seamstress' attack, redirecting it mid-air.
The Seamstress faltered.
"Impossible… You control it?"
Luna's voice rang clear. "I am it."
A surge of silver exploded outward, knocking the Seamstress back. Cracks formed in the cavern walls as ancient glyphs flickered.
But the Seamstress wasn't done.
She stood tall, eyes now visible under the veil—blinding white.
"You have chosen rebellion. Very well."
She raised both hands.
"Then let the trial begin."
A thread circle formed around Luna, Aelius, and Rae. The floor beneath them vanished—pulling them into a new realm.
They landed in a vast empty field. Nothing but sky, clouds… and threads, floating in space.
The Seamstress hovered above.
"This is the Trial of Weaving. Survive, or be erased."
Three figures began to rise from the field.
Copies.
One of Rae—young, bloodied, the night he betrayed Yuna.
One of Aelius—eyes glowing, his Thread Reaper form.
And one of Luna—crying, confused, bound by silver strings.
Each of them faced their past.
Each of them had to break their fate—or be broken by it.
Luna's breath trembled.
This wasn't just a battle.
It was judgment.