The First Thread cracked.
A sound unlike anything in existence echoed across the Citadel of Origins.
It was not a roar.
Not an explosion.
It sounded like reality tearing apart.
The Sea of Threads reacted immediately.
Countless timelines began trembling.
Worlds flickered.
Entire histories distorted.
For the first time since arriving at the Citadel, the Curator looked genuinely alarmed.
"We're too late."
His words sent a chill through the chamber.
The shadow within the First Thread moved again.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Like something awakening from an endless sleep.
Then a hand emerged.
Not a physical hand.
A hand woven from thousands of glowing threads.
Past.
Present.
Future.
All intertwined.
The moment it touched reality, every clock in every universe stopped.
Silence
