The air was different now. Not thinner, not heavier—just aware. As if reality itself was holding its breath, waiting to see what Kazenari Rei would do next.
The shrine that had once served as their resting point now shimmered with faint markings—runes once dormant had begun to pulse in rhythm with Rei's presence. The Oath had changed more than him. It had rewritten the way the world saw him.
Rei stood at the center of the courtyard, flame dancing calmly around his frame, not as a weapon, but as a witness. He wasn't thinking of war.
He was thinking of truth.
Eirenne leaned against a cedar post, arms crossed. "You haven't said much since the Hollow Oath."
Rei glanced at her. "Because words weigh more now."
Noira whistled from the shrine roof. "Cryptic Rei is back. I missed this version."
Mireille, always observant, tapped her finger against a map projected from her spirit crystal. "The lines have shifted. All of them. Every known spirit leyline just bent a few degrees south."
Rei stepped toward the map, watching as glowing lines spiraled inward toward a single location on the edge of the Underworld.
"The Ruined Loom," Mireille said. "It's activating."
Karasu landed nearby, talons clicking against the stone. "The Sovereigns built the Loom to weave new destinies after wars shattered the first ones. No one was meant to approach it anymore."
Rei closed his eyes. "But someone has."
Elsewhere — The Ruined Loom, Outer Fringe of the Underworld
The Loom had not breathed in centuries. Its metal bones curled inwards, twisted like roots grasping for a future that would never come. Now, its threads trembled. Ghosts of forgotten timelines seeped from every fracture.
And in the center stood a man cloaked in sigils of rust.
Vereth, the Forsworn Weaver.
Once a Sovereign. Now, a heretic.
He spoke to the Loom with a voice cracked by time.
"You gave up too early. Let me remind you what it means to defy endings."
In his hand, a shard of corrupted spirit crystal pulsed. Not forged. Not inherited. Stolen.
He stabbed it into the Loom's heart.
Reality blinked.
Shrine of the North Wind
Mireille collapsed, clutching her head. "He's forcing a thread override!"
Rei caught her before she hit the ground. "Who?"
"Vereth," she gasped. "He's pulling spirit fragments from the broken timelines and binding them to himself. He's trying to become a Sovereign... without the balance."
Eirenne unsheathed her blade. "Then we stop him before he succeeds."
Karasu hissed. "Not yet. Not like this. If you move now, you'll trigger a cascade. The Loom will collapse, and every Sovereign echo will be unleashed without anchor."
Rei stood, flame rising to his palms.
"Then we'll anchor them."
Noira blinked. "You're suggesting we capture Sovereign echoes?"
Mireille nodded slowly. "Not capture. Harmonize. The Hollow Oath gave us that right."
Rei summoned his system interface. Across its surface appeared fractured fragments—new spirit profiles, incomplete, unstable. They were neither born nor named.
[New Protocol: Echo Integration — Experimental. Risk Level: Catastrophic.]
He turned to his companions. "We start with the weakest. Stabilize what we can. Then we take the fight to Vereth."
Eirenne smirked. "Back to the hunt."
Noira drew her twin daggers. "About time."
Mireille looked to the sky. "We'll need new spirit slots."
The system chimed in response:
[System Update: Spirit Path Expansion Granted. Maximum Units: 9.]
Rei whispered, "Then let's find the echoes who never had a voice."
The Threadbearer moved.
And the Sovereign War resumed.