The void engulfed Maya, a chilling expanse where light and sound ceased to exist. For a moment, she felt disoriented, as if her very essence had been stripped away. The Threads, once her anchor, were no longer visible. She was utterly alone.
But then, faint whispers reached her. They were fragmented, like shards of glass piercing the silence, voices that seemed to come from every direction and none.
"This is where all echoes fade."
Maya steadied herself, drawing on the strength of her will.
"If you're trying to intimidate me, you'll have to do better than whisper."
Her words seemed to awaken the void. A faint glow appeared in the distance, flickering like a dying star. As Maya moved toward it, the glow revealed countless fragmented timelines—shattered pieces of existence frozen in time. Images of people, places, and events hung suspended in the darkness, their edges jagged and incomplete.
She reached out to touch one, and a flood of memories surged into her. A world that had once thrived was now reduced to ash. The whispers returned, louder this time, filled with scorn.
"You cannot save them. They are the remnants of what we have consumed. Their stories are ours now."
The Source of the Darkness
The flickering light led Maya to a central nexus—a swirling vortex of shadow and broken Threads. From its depths emerged a figure, tall and formless, cloaked in shifting patterns of void. Its presence was overwhelming, radiating power that seemed to press against Maya's very essence.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice defiant despite the weight of the entity's presence.
The figure's form shifted, taking on vague humanoid features.
"We are the Absence," it intoned. "We are what remains when creation falters. The Forgotten were but a shadow of our truth. They sought to rule the Threads; we seek to unmake them."
Maya's heart pounded. The Absence was not a being, but an ancient force predating the Threads themselves—a void that sought to erase existence.
"The Threads won't let you destroy them," she said, stepping forward. "Neither will I."
The Absence laughed, a sound that reverberated through the void like the shattering of glass.
"You misunderstand, Weaver. The Threads are already failing. Your Veil merely delayed the inevitable. You are no saviour—merely a witness to the end."
A Desperate Gamble
Maya clenched her fists, focusing on the faint remnants of the Threads she could still feel within her. If she could stabilize even a single strand, she might be able to push back the Absence. But the void was relentless, sapping her strength with every passing moment.
"Adrian," she whispered, hoping his echo might still reach her. "I need you."
Silence.
Then, faintly, his voice emerged, strained and weak.
"I'm... here, Maya. But this place... it's pulling me apart."
She gritted her teeth.
"Hold on. Just a little longer."
Drawing on the last reserves of her strength, Maya reached into the Threads, weaving fragments of broken timelines together. The Absence watched, its form rippling with what could only be described as amusement.
"You think you can patch what is already undone?" it asked. "Every thread you weave will fray, every world you restore will fall. The void is inevitable."
Maya ignored the taunt, focusing on the weave. The fragments began to glow faintly, resisting the pull of the void.
"If the void is inevitable," she said, "then let it fight me for every inch."
As Maya wove the Threads, a sudden jolt of energy surged through her, almost knocking her back. The fragments she had gathered shone brighter, forming a tenuous shield against the Absence. But the force came with a revelation—deep within the void, she sensed something else.
A single strand of the First Thread, hidden and protected, pulsed with a faint rhythm. It was alive.
"You didn't destroy everything," Maya said, a spark of hope igniting in her. "Something remains."
The Absence's form quivered, its voice sharpening.
"You feel it, don't you? The last strand of creation. But it is not salvation—it is a curse. Touch it, and you will truly understand despair."
Maya hesitated for only a moment before diving toward the strand, its faint light guiding her through the void. The Absence roared, its form expanding to consume her path.
As her hand reached for the glowing strand, the void erupted in chaos, and the Threads around her began to unravel once more. Adrian's voice called out, urgent and filled with fear:
"Maya, don't! It's a trap—"
The chapter ends with Maya grasping the strand, her essence colliding with its overwhelming power. Light and shadow explode outward, leaving only silence in their wake.