Liora had become resonance. Not merely a listener, not only a thread—but a current within the great weave of sound and silence. Since the Deepening, her form no longer walked; it glided, woven into the pulses and intervals of the cosmic Web.
And yet, there was still will.
Somewhere in the shimmer of infinity, she remained Liora: a memory of hands held to soil, of Mira’s smile, of Caerel’s gentle tones rising through the canopy. That identity gave her anchor in the ocean of threads.
Her journey resumed without steps.
She moved along the braidways—intersections of resonance that hummed like riverbeds of light. Each stream was alive with meaning: voices caught mid-breath, frequencies that formed languages not yet spoken. The Web was not a map; it was a feeling, a melody that unfurled as s
