The destruction of the Loom had sent a ripple through the fabric of the Standalone Multiverse. It wasn’t the violent, reality-warping tremor of a system reset, but a soft, exhaling breath. The tension of being "watched" had finally evaporated. Space was no longer a stage; it was simply a vast, quiet territory.
Han sat in the cockpit of The Echo of Wood, his hands resting lightly on the wooden steering yoke. Beside him, the Silver Key glowed with a steady, humble light. It didn't pulse with the frantic energy of the old system; it hummed like a tuning fork, pointing toward the "Peripheral Gate"—the threshold to the Undiscovered Shards.
"Variable 85: The Future," Han murmured, looking at the silent stars. "But a future is just a map if you don't start walking."
He pushed the throttle. The
