The golden threads hummed with contentment.
Marcus stood at the clock tower window, watching the light pulse through Havenport like a living heartbeat. The city had transformed in the weeks since the oneness had reached the future. The threads were visible to everyone now—golden strands of connection weaving between buildings, between people, between everything. Children played among them, laughing as they touched the light. Adults gathered in circles, sharing their experiences, their feelings, their hopes.
The weeping was gone. The hope had arrived.
But Marcus couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming.
It wasn't a threat exactly—not like the void or the Watcher or the Breach. It was more like a presence, a gathering, a convergence of something new. He'd felt it building for
