Chapter 71 The Weaver's Defiance

• To weave is to choose. And every choice has a cost.
• The platform cracked like ice underfoot, glowing fissures racing outward as the abyss roared. Rivers of thread—once feeding the Core—spiraled toward Kira instead, lashing around her arms, her waist, her chest. They didn’t burn. They sang.
• A thousand voices, each one a possible life, whispered through her veins. She felt the strength of victories not yet won, the sorrow of losses she hadn’t faced, the weight of paths never taken. And the fire-woven loom in her hands pulsed, demanding she decide which threads to bind.