The woods changed as they traveled deeper.
What once felt alive — trees breathing, leaves whispering — turned still and heavy, like the world itself was holding its breath. Even the air grew thicker, weighed down by something unseen.
Theo tightened his grip on the strap of his satchel, his other hand brushing the hidden weight of the Origin Core under his coat. It buzzed faintly against his skin, alert.
Nova moved a half-step ahead, her shoulders tense beneath her traveling cloak.She felt it too.
"We're close," she murmured without turning.
Theo didn't bother asking close to what.
He already knew.
The second monolith wasn't hidden like the first.It stood out in the open, on a flat stone outcropping, as if daring the world to look at it — and fail to understand.
But this one was broken.
A deep crack ran from top to bottom, oozing a faint silver mist that curled into the air like a living thing. The symbol carved into its surface was jagged now, like a wound that hadn't healed properly.
Theo stepped closer, heart hammering against his ribs.
"Careful," Nova warned, but she didn't stop him.
He hesitated only a second, then placed his palm against the cool, cracked stone.
At first — nothing.
Then—
Voices.
Whispering at the edge of hearing, layered and distorted like echoes bouncing off endless walls. Not words he could understand, but emotions thick enough to drown in.
Regret.Desperation.Resolve.
He staggered back, gasping.
Nova caught him again — this time gripping both his arms firmly, anchoring him.
"What did you hear?" she asked, steady.
Theo shook his head, trying to clear the lingering fog.
"Not just memories," he said hoarsely. "Choices. The kind that... broke things."
He looked up at the broken monolith, silver mist curling around its base.
"This was where someone made a decision," he said. "One that shouldn't have been made."
Nova's expression darkened.
"And now the crack's still bleeding."
Theo wiped a hand over his face, grounding himself.
They had to fix it. He knew that much instinctively.But how do you mend a choice already made? How do you sew shut a wound the world itself refused to heal?
"Someone's watching," Nova said suddenly.
Theo stiffened, reaching for the short blade hidden in his coat.
From the edge of the clearing, a figure stepped into view.
Not a scavenger. Not a merchant.
An old man, wrapped in worn traveler's robes, with eyes too sharp and too knowing for comfort. His hair was a tangled mess of white and gray, and a long scar ran from his temple to his jaw.
But it was the feeling he gave off — that pressure — that made Theo's hand freeze on his weapon.
The man was tied to the threads. Deeply.Wrongly.
"You're meddling in things you don't understand," the old man rasped, voice low but carrying easily across the stone.
Theo didn't move. Neither did Nova.
"Maybe," Theo said. "But we're still going to fix it."
The old man chuckled, dry and cracked like dead leaves.
"Fix it?" he echoed. "Boy, you don't even know what 'it' is."
Nova's stance shifted subtly, a question in the tilt of her shoulders.Talk or fight?
Theo gave the smallest shake of his head.
"Then tell us," he said to the man. "You know something."
The old man's smile was tired. Not mocking — almost... regretful.
"I know enough," he said. "Enough to know that once, long ago, the threads were pure. Woven tight. Unbreakable."
He gestured at the cracked monolith.
"And then someone pulled too hard. For power. For love. For reasons that felt right at the time."
He let his hand drop, eyes glinting in the dim light.
"And once a thread snaps, boy — it can't ever truly be made whole again."
Theo's mouth was dry.
"And the Collapse?"
The old man's smile faded.
"You haven't even seen collapse yet," he said softly. "You're just standing on the first falling stone."
Before Theo could speak again, the old man turned — and in a way that shouldn't have been possible, simply wasn't there anymore. As if the threads themselves swallowed him whole.
Theo stared at the empty clearing.
Nova stepped up beside him.
"That wasn't just a man," she said.
Theo nodded. "No."
An echo.An anchor.
Someone — or something — that remembered what the world tried to forget.
Theo looked at the cracked monolith again, the silver mist still leaking into the air.
He clenched his hands into fists.
They couldn't save what was already broken.But maybe — just maybe — they could stop the rest from shattering.
He felt Nova's gaze on him, steady and unwavering.
"We keep going," Theo said.
And this time, she didn't argue.
They turned from the broken monolith, leaving behind the first true sign that this fight would be far bigger — and far older — than either of them had ever imagined.