The wind had picked up.
It tugged at Theo's coat and hissed through the cracks behind them, but he barely noticed. His mind was still stuck on the image of the threadwraith — on the way it had screamed, like it remembered being human once but couldn't anymore.
Nova led the way now, her steps careful but relentless.
They needed to move. Staying too long near a faultline was asking for death — or worse, a permanent pull into a reality that wasn't theirs.
Theo stumbled once, catching himself against a dead tree. The bark flaked away under his fingers like ash.
Nova slowed, glancing back.
"You're pushing too hard," she said, voice low but not unkind.
Theo wiped his sweaty palm on his pants. "We don't have time to be careful."
Nova raised an eyebrow. "If you collapse, we lose even more time."
Theo opened his mouth to argue — then closed it again.She was right.Frustratingly, always right about things like this.
With a heavy breath, he forced himself to match her pace: steady, deliberate, conserving energy.
As they moved, Theo noticed it — a subtle shift in the ground. Not the earth itself, but something beneath it, like strings tugging at his senses.
"You feel that?" he asked quietly.
Nova nodded once.Her eyes were sharp, scanning the twisted trees and broken ground.
"It's not natural," she said. "Something's weaving."
Theo's stomach tightened.
They followed the pull, circling around a collapsed ridge, until they found it: a patch of land where the cracks converged into a tight knot. Black soil, twisted roots, and at the center—
A small stone altar, half-buried and covered in faded carvings.
Theo knelt beside it, brushing away the dirt.
The symbols weren't from any language he recognized — but somehow, instinctively, he knew what they meant.
"They tried to patch the break," he murmured.
Nova crouched beside him, studying the altar with a furrowed brow.
"A sealing point," she said. "Someone tried to stitch the threads back together. Crude work… but it held, for a while."
Theo traced the carvings with his fingertips.They pulsed faintly under his touch, as if recognizing him.
A memory flickered in his mind — a feeling, more than an image.Desperation. Hope. Fear.
Whoever had built this, they hadn't been trying to control fate.
They had been trying to save it.
Nova's voice pulled him back.
"If there's one," she said, "there are others."
Theo looked up at her, understanding dawning.
"The first collapse," he said slowly. "It wasn't just one event. It was a thousand small breaks, patched over again and again… until it all finally gave out."
Nova nodded grimly.
"And if we find these points before they fail…" she said.
Theo finished for her."Maybe we can stop it before it really begins."
A thin thread of hope wound its way through his chest.It wasn't much — but it was something.
He stood, dusting off his hands.
"We need a map," he said. "Patterns. Places where the threads are weakest."
Nova hesitated — then pulled a small, battered notebook from inside her coat.
Theo blinked."You've been mapping them already."
She gave a small, wry smile."I told you. I see things you can't."
He took the notebook carefully, flipping through pages filled with rough sketches, marks, and notes written in a tight, elegant hand.
Faultlines. Anchor points. Areas of thinning threads.
It wasn't complete.It wasn't safe.
But it was a start.
Theo's chest tightened — a strange, fierce gratitude that he didn't know how to express.
Instead, he just said, "We're not alone in this."
Nova's smile softened, almost imperceptibly.
"No," she agreed. "We're not."
But before he could say anything more, a chill slid down Theo's spine.
He straightened, scanning the treeline.
Movement — fast, deliberate — shadows slipping between dead trunks.
Nova saw it too. She closed the notebook, tucking it away.
"Someone's following," she said under her breath.
Theo felt the Origin Core thrum against his ribs, ready, waiting.
"Can you tell how many?"
Nova shook her head. "Enough."
Enough to be a problem.
Theo tightened his grip on his blade.
"No more running," he said. "We stand."
Nova's eyes gleamed in the dim light.
"Good," she said, drawing a slender dagger from her belt. "I'm tired of running too."
The shadows drew closer, silent and hungry.
And this time, Theo met them head-on.