The violet sphere vibrated with that hollow, terrifying chuckle. It wasn't just a sound; it was a ripple in the fabric of her soul.
"No, of course I didn't," Asteria spat, her spectral form flickering with the intensity of her rage. "What am I supposed to be looking for when my own soul hardly belongs to me? Look around. Does this look like something I can control?"
She swept an arm towards the bruised, bleeding chaos of her soul sea.
"This soul sea was a rainbow, a myriad of colours and shapes... Now look at it, it's hardly mine.." Asteria continued through choked sobs, "it's not like I know who you are either. I was blessed without a name, only told you were 'Unknown. ' What are you? A liar?"
The figure didn't flinch. Instead, it tilted the harrowing, wooden mask, the empty eye sockets seemingly drinking in her frustration.
"I suppose you could say I'm a liar." the figure seemed amused as its voice resonated throughout the sphere, sounding like a thousand pages of an ancient book turning at once. "After all, I have been called the Master of Lies by my siblings, blessed of my machine."
Asteria froze, 'Machine?' "What machine?" She whispered, her anger temporality eclipsed by a chilling realization.
'Did this... thing... create the Spell?'
The figure didn't answer with words. Instead, one of its eight nimble arms reached out, its long, spindly fingers brushing against the walls of her Dream Core.
"I can nearly hear your thoughts, child; all will be answered when the time comes." The being murmured and continued somberly. "You speak of control as if it is a thing to be held, as if it is something tangible. But control is the greatest lie of them all. There is only the threads of the great tapestry. And then there is the one who pulls it. "
Suddenly, the violet sphere vanished.
Asteria wasn't within her soul sea anymore. She was standing in a place that shouldn't exist, something nobody should be able to freely visit.
It was a vast, infinite look made of starlight and stars. Stretching out in every direction were trillions of silver threads, vibrating with a low, mornful hum.
"Look closely, Child of the Forgotten." The figure whispered, appearing beside her.
As Asteria's [Glass Eyes] adjusted, she saw the threads weren't just lines of light. They were lives. She saw a thread that shimmered with a golden flame – Nephis. She saw a thread that flickered like a shadow in a dark room – Sunless.
And then she saw her own.
It wasn't silver, it wasn't gold. It was a jagged, rough indigo chord that seemed to be stitched into the loom by force, its edges frayed and leaking the same violet 'ink' that filled her soul.
"This is the future my machine has calculated." The being said, pointing it's fingers toward the indigo thread.
Asteria watched as her thread tangled with others. She saw a vision of the Winter Solstice – not as a date, but as a massacre. She saw herself standing atop a mountain of glass, her [Obsidian Glass] blade buried in the chest of a creature so large it blotted out the artificial sun.
But as she looked closer, she realized she wasn't alone.
Thousands of Nightmare Creatures were kneeling behind her. They weren't attacking. They were waiting. They were waiting for their Queen to give the command to devour.
"My spell shows this vision," The being sighed, voice growing heavy. "Because in this future, and even now... I am already dead. And you are the only one left who can break this horrible weave."
Asteria felt a cold, oily dread slide down her spine. "Why? Why me? Why give this to a fuel who just wanted to survive?"
The mask lewned in, and for a split second, Asteria saw a single, human-like eye through the wooden slit. It was ancient, tired and filled with a terrifying hope.
"Because an "Outskirts Rat" like you, is the only type of person who knows what it's like to be hungry. And only the hungry can devour the fate they were given."
The Master of Lies moved their hand, and the tapestry of starlight shifted. The threads groaned, a sound like a thousand violins snapping at once.
"Ones Fate is a cage, Child of the Forgotten." The figure whispered, eight arms moving in a synchronized dance. "But even a cage has many bars. You look at the mountain of glass and see a throne. Look again."
The vision flickered, and suddenly Asteria was standing in the center of a silent, grey world. There was no massacre, no blood. There was only... nothing.
Every person she had ever met – Nephis, Caster, even the scruffy boy Sunless – were now statues of salt. Their essence drained to fuel her immortality. She sat alone, the Queen of Nightmare, ruling over a kingdom of echoes.
"A fate where you win," The being murmured. "But there is nothing left to eat but the void."
The scene shifted again. The threads of Nephis and Sunless began to wrap around the indigo cord, binding it, pulling it tight. Asteria saw herself screaming as she was pulled into the loom itself. Her body was coming apart, turning into silver silk to repair the holes in the world. She wasn't a Queen; she was a patch. She was the fuel that kept the Machine running for another thousand years.
"A fate where the world survives," the figure sighed. "But the Rat is forgotten once more."
Finally, the indigo thread snapped. Asteria saw herself standing in the Academy dojo, but her face was gone. In its place was the wooden mask of the being in front of her.
She watched as she walked through the streets of the NQSC, and everywhere she went, the Real World cracked like glass, revealing the Nightmare underneath. She wasn't devouring fate; she was becoming the very thing she feared.
She saw her raise the mask off of her face, revealing an emptiness that couldn't be described with the words of mortals.
The lips of the envisioned Asteria moved.
"Hail Weaver, Demon of Fate. Firstborn of the Forgotten God!"
Asteria recoiled, her spectral eyes wide with horror. "These are... these are all horrible. Is this it? Is this all your machine can find for me? Is this my fate, then?"
"The machine sees your Fate. And these, are some of your fates." The figure said, stepping closer until the scent of ancient dust and ozone filled her senses. "That is... if the tapestry stays the way it is. Choice... is the only thing I could never weave into the Spell."
One of the long, spindly fingers pointed toward the indigo thread again. "Look at the fraying edges. The violet ink. That is the Seventh's gift to you. Corruption is not just a rot, Asteria. It is the ability to be undefined and free. Free from this gilded cage."
Asteria gripped her head, the Call in her soul reaching a fever pitch. "You're telling me I have to become a monster to stay human?"
"I am telling you that the hunger you feel is the only thing that I could not predict. You truly are special." the Master of Lies chuckled, a sound both tragic and mocking. "Fate is a meal, little bird. You can sit at the table and eat what is served... or you can eat the table itself."
Suddenly, the loom began to dissolve. The starlight turned back into the violet walls of her Dream Core.
"Wait!" Asteria shouted, reaching out for the dark mantle. "How do I do it? How do I break this – god-forsaken tapestry without losing myself?"
The figure began to fade, the wooden mask the last thing to vanish.
"The answer is in your hands, Queen of Nightmare. You have the glass. You have the hunger. Now..."
A final, eighth hand reached out and flicked her forehead.
"Wake up."
Asteria was in the quiet of her soul core once more, only for a few fractions of a second. But that was all she needed to see what changed. A cocoon was now sitting within the turbulent sea of her soul.