"...remembered."
Velis's presence thickened the air—if there was air in this place where nothing truly lived. The Source churned behind Hira, its light now uncertain, flickering like a heart in doubt. She stood at the edge of a revelation that had no bottom, staring into the only being that could make her question everything she had just become.
A memory unfolded—not one of Hira's lifetimes, but something deeper. Something cellular, coded into the bones of the universe.
She remembered a time when there was no time.
Two forces born from the first fracture.
One was made to shape.
The other was made to destroy.
But neither asked for it.
They had danced at the beginning. No names, no bodies—just impulse and echo, curiosity without consequence. Hira had always reached outward. Velis had reached inward. Together, they created the beat before the first word was spoken.
Then came the Pattern.
The Gods.
The Laws.
And in their fear, the new weavers chose only one.
Hira.
