The silver thread felt cool and alive in Alex's hand as they stood beneath the looming clock tower. The town's shadows stretched long, and the air was thick with anticipation. The whispers had grown louder over the past days, urging Alex onward, but now a heavy stillness settled—a brief pause before the inevitable storm.
Alex knew the Weaver's web was unraveling faster than ever. The fragile balance between light and shadow in Ravenswood was tipping, and the threads binding the town's fate were fraying. Every step forward seemed to pull Alex deeper into a labyrinth of secrets and dangers.
As the lantern's glow flickered softly, Alex took a moment to breathe, gathering strength for what lay ahead. The pendant pulsed steadily against their chest, a steady heartbeat in the growing darkness.
Suddenly, a distant bell tolled—deep and resonant—echoing through the empty streets. It was a call to arms, a warning, or perhaps a summons from the Weaver itself.
Alex's gaze hardened. The calm would not last.
With the silver thread guiding the way and the lantern lighting the path, Alex set off toward the next piece of the puzzle, ready to face the shadows that awaited.