God's Blessing is a Curse

The ground changed beneath our feet.

One moment, it was void. The next—thread.

Woven lines of gold and black spiraled underfoot, tightening with each step like a loom snapping into place.

Then they faded.

And the world reformed.

Not all at once.

First came the smell—pine and soot and wet earth. Then came color—ashen reds, storm-grey blues, gold like lantern light reflected in water.

Then sound.

Distant. Echoing.

Steel.

We stepped onto a battlefield made of memory.