They say in the beginning, when stars were still forming their names, there was one that did not wish to burn in place.
This star—small, dim, and wandering—wove between its brethren not by chance, but by longing.
The other constellations were proud and still, each one fixed in their truth:
• The Scale of Action, forged from Judgment.
• The Wheel of Inevitability, born of Acceptance.
• The Silent Pair, two in opposition, bound by Duality.
• The Fire of the Lost, a flicker of eternal Hope.
• The Dense Crown, keeper of Knowledge.
• The Serpent's Embrace, the inevitable curve of Betrayal.
But the Thread was none of these. It moved. It chose.
And in choosing, it became the story between stories—not the action, but the freedom to act; not the fate, but the divergence from it.
Wherever a soul dared to defy the heavens, the Threads of Choice passed overhead.
They say it was this star that taught mortals to speak against the silence.
To step left when the path bent right.
To ask, "What if?"
To refuse the crown—or to claim it before time.
But all choices come at a price.
And so the Threads did not only pass through Hope, and Judgment, and Betrayal—
They carried pieces of each, collecting truths and lies alike.
Some say when the sky turns quiet, and the stars go dim, the Threads weave anew—
Unraveling lives just to see who dares tie them back together.