The peace lasted two weeks.
Marcus stood at the threshold of the clock tower, watching the golden threads pulse with steady light. The oneness was complete. The truth was revealed. The Foundation was whole. Everything was as it should be.
But something was stirring.
It began as a flicker at the edges of the threads—a darkness that moved against the light, a shadow that didn't belong. Marcus tried to ignore it at first, telling himself it was just a trick of the light, a remnant of the past. But the shadow grew, spreading through the oneness like ink in water.
Anna noticed it too. She arrived at the clock tower one evening, her face pale, her eyes hollow.
"Marcus, the shadow is back. I can see it in the threads. It's spreading."
Marcus nodded slowly. "I know. I've been watching it."
