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Chapter 1776: Story : The Choosing of the New Weaver
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Chapter 1778: Story : The Loomchild’s Stand
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... hat felt wrong.
Not rhythmic.
Not ancient.
But hungry.
The Loomchild lifted their newly woven hands, threads of multicolored light spiraling around their small frame. Their eyes—now shimmering with the full spectrum of the Weave—darkened at the edges.
“Something is pressing against the boundaries of the First World,” they whispered. “Something that should not exist here.”
Erian stepped protectively in front of them. “The Hollow.”
Marra drew ...
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