The bridge no longer shuddered like brittle glass.
It sang.
Each trembling thread became a note, each fracture a chime.
At first, it was faint, a whisper in the void—like dew dripping into silence. But when the twin Elara stepped forward, hand in hand, the resonance deepened. It was no longer noise. It was harmony.
Light's golden blade hummed with crystalline tones, delicate as strings of a celestial harp.
Shadow's dark flame pulsed in answer, like drums echoing from the abyss.
Together, their power was no longer discord, but duet.
Elara of Light exhaled sharply, her chest rising as courage steadied her.
Every step she took sparked brilliance into broken cracks, weaving fractures into glowing lines.
> Tiiiinnnggg…
The note rang clear, vibrating across the endless dark.
Elara of Shadow turned, eyes wide, her breath caught between awe and disbelief.
The song was not theirs alone—it was the Loom itself answering, resonating, becoming alive.
> "This bridge… it is no mere path. It is an instrument. A harp of the cosmos."
And with each step, the song grew.
Threads once severed wove back into being, shimmering with unseen patterns—patterns not crafted by the Weaver, but born of defiance, of unity, of choice.
The abyss trembled.
Even the storm of black threads behind them faltered, hesitating, as if the music itself defied its dominion.
The Loom sang because they walked.
And the cosmos listened.