Ally Threads Novels & Stories

Thread touched six feet. We did not mark this. We let it remain.

You’re mine and always will be. Press 1 to save the message Message saved.

The threads. The structure. The way everything connects. And I begin. “Remove fixed signature,” I say. “Introduce variable states.” “Range?” “Continuous.” “Pattern?” “Non-repeating.” “Control?” “Distributed across system.” Silence. Then— “Implementation… complex.” “I know.” “Failure probability significant.” “I know.” “Proceed?” “Yes.” The system reacts instantly. The core pulses differently. Not stronger. Not weaker. Changing. The threads shift. Not breaking.

When the last thread dissolved, the woman collapsed into a chair, exhausted but smiling. "That was... almost pleasant," Carol said wonderingly. "Like slowly waking from a nightmare instead of being yanked awake." The council murmured among themselves. Elder James leaned forward. "Can you do multiple threads simultaneously?" Wendy moved to the next volunteer. This time, she grabbed five threads at once, pulling them in different directions. The mark unraveled faster, but still controlled. Ten minutes this time. By the fourth volunteer, she'd reduced it to five minutes. By the eighth, three minutes with minimal discomfort.

To him, time was like an interloping of threads, all related to each other and the ultimate space, and in rare, yet possible cases, it was possible to bend those threads. Threads...threads of time...it rang a bell, but I wasn't sure where I had heard it from. I closed the book and fell on the chair. Time travel? Me? For what? So I can re-live some of the worst years of my life? I held my hair in handfuls and yelled, hoping that if I yelled hard enough, some miracle will take place and take me back to the time I belong. I have already lived past this. This is not my life any more.