Chapter 2: A Thread Unraveled, II
The next morning, the thread returned.
Only this time, I didn't wake up right away.
I held it again, let the golden strand curl through my fingers, impossibly light but carrying a weight I couldn't name. I wasn't falling through the void like before. I was still. As if I stood at the center of something. Something vast and unfinished.
The thread pulsed faintly.
And then it unraveled.
I woke up with my hand outstretched.
***
Outside, the scent carried the weight of early autumn—damp earth, fallen leaves, faint charcoal from the nearby blacksmith's forge. The shop felt colder than usual, like the warmth of the ticking clocks hadn't reached yet.
Shuji didn't greet me when I came downstairs.
He was hunched over a cluttered table, poring through old maintenance ledgers. His brow furrowed as his finger moved slowly across a line of names. When he noticed me, he closed the book without a word and nudged a half-disassembled clock toward me.
"Balance wheel's off. Fix it"