The golden threads pulsed with quiet contentment.
Marcus stood at the threshold of the clock tower, watching the city breathe. Auren was free. The Foundation was held by all. The oneness was truly complete. Havenport had become a sanctuary, a beacon of hope and love that drew seekers from every corner of the world.
But something was wrong.
It started as a faint tremor in the threads—a disturbance at the edges of the oneness, like a stone dropped into still water. Marcus felt it ripple through the connection, a coldness that didn't belong. The golden light flickered, just for a moment, and then steadied.
Anna noticed it too. She arrived at the clock tower one evening, her face pale, her eyes hollow.
"Marcus, something is out there. Something is hunting."
Marcus nodded slowly. "I know.
