The blizzard had sharpened into fine glass shards, each flake cutting like the edge of a blade.
Malik and Zyren found the fort by accident—half-buried in the snow, its obsidian walls cracked, its gate leaning on rusted hinges.
Inside, the cold was quieter.
"Cozy," Zyren said, stepping over the skeleton of a long-forgotten banner. "If cozy means ghost-haunted and smelling like wolf piss."
Malik ignored him. The place had weight to it—like the air itself was thicker, heavier. His breath felt… slower.
They pushed deeper into the fort until they found a central chamber. Broken weapon racks lined the walls, and at the center was a stone table, carved with spirals and sigils.
Malik's eyes traced the patterns—lines curling inward, then out, forming shapes that made no sense and yet felt familiar.
That's when she spoke.
"Don't stare too long. The Flow doesn't like to be watched."
A woman stood in the archway opposite them. She was tall, wrapped in a dark crimson cloak, with a shaved head except for a single braid that trailed over her shoulder. Her eyes were a deep gold—not brown, not hazel, but gold, like sunlight caught in honey.
"Who are you?" Malik asked, tightening his grip on his spear.
"The caretaker," she said simply. "Name's Sura. And this…" She gestured to the stone table. "…is a Flow Nexus. You're standing in a dead cultivation pool."
Zyren puffed his pipe. "Dead? Kinda like me before my morning smoke?"
Sura didn't laugh. "The Flow is the current beneath the skin of the world. Everything alive has a Thread in it. Cultivation isn't just about strength—it's about tuning your Thread to the Realms beyond this ice. You break through, you change the way the world answers you."
Malik frowned. "So it's like… levels?"
"No," she said. "Levels are for games. The Flow is for the living. You open one Realm, it leads to the next. But each Realm demands a cost—memories, pain, parts of yourself you didn't know you could lose."
She knelt by the table and traced one of the spirals. "There are Ten Realms known to us. Five before the Ice Walls. Five beyond."
The Known Realms:
Thread Awakening – Feeling your own Flow for the first time.
Thread Forging – Tempering it into a weapon or shield.
Thread Binding – Tying your Flow to an element, concept, or will.
Thread Walking – Moving through the Flow, bending space and time.
Thread Shattering – Breaking your old Thread to create something new.
The Beyond Realms:
—"Not for you to know yet," Sura said with a small smirk.
Zyren leaned on the wall. "So where's Malik on this cute little ladder?"
Sura's golden eyes scanned Malik, and for a heartbeat, he felt like she was peeling him open.
"…You're dormant," she said finally. "Not even Awakened. But your Thread is… strange. It's braided, like two cords twisted together."
"Two?" Malik asked.
"Either you were born with a double-thread… or something tied itself to you before you were ready."
Her words made the froststeel shard Nia had given him feel heavy in his pocket.
Before Malik could ask more, a crash echoed from above—ice breaking, voices shouting.
Sura's head tilted. "Company. Hunters. Ten at least."
Malik stepped forward. "Then I guess it's time to wake my Thread."
Sura's smile was slow and dangerous. "If you live, I'll show you how."
The walls trembled with the first impact. Zyren took a slow drag from his pipe. "Guess recess is over, my guy."