The familiar white space of the transmigration system pulsed back to life, and Alex and Anya emerged, weary but resolute. Their decades of service as weavers had etched stories onto their faces, each wrinkle a testament to a reality saved or a discord quelled. Yet, their eyes still held the spark of their first encounter – a shared belief in the power of music to mend the fragile threads of existence.
This time, the anomaly wasn't a single thread or a chaotic cacophony. It was a faint, shimmering ripple, emanating an unsettling dissonance. The voice boomed within Alex, its tone laced with concern, "Weavers, we face an anomaly unlike any encountered before. It appears to be a…tear in the fabric of time itself."
Anya, ever the pragmatist, frowned. "Time? Isn't that beyond even the Tapestry's reach? Can music truly mend the flow of time?"
