An Invisible Thread Novels & Stories

I’m already reaching. The connection surges. The threads respond. I find his. Weak. Fading. Barely there. And I try to hold it. To stabilize it. To do what I did before. But this— This is different. The thread doesn’t resist. It doesn’t fight. It doesn’t even react. It just… Slips. Like trying to grab water. “No, no, no—” I whisper, pulling harder. The thread flickers once. Twice. Then—

But this time, I now understand his plan. I teleported to Ailestair's location and immediately hold his hand to teleport him to different location. When I did that, I witness how the acid wall releases some fumes. That explains one thing, the invisible rope that the vice-president released to attack Ailestair, touches the acid. "What the hell was that?!" Ailestair shouted. "It's his invisible weapon. Stop shouting, I can't think straight." "What the fuck?! How do you think I'm going to stop shouting if I don't know the power of my enemy?! Im more excited to check how strong that power of his." Ailestair is now smiling like crazy.

That had been broken and wrong since the memory loss. I could feel it there, buried deep in my chest. That burning presence that felt like a second heartbeat made of fire and possibility. But it was unstable. Flickering. Like a flame trying to survive in a hurricane. The Enforcer lunged again. I didn't have time to be careful. Didn't have time to do it right. I just grabbed for my power and pulled. The world tilted sideways. I could see the threads. Those invisible lines connecting everything to reality. The Enforcer had millions of them—thick, reinforced, protected by administrator technology. But they were still just threads. Still vulnerable to someone who could see them.

he murmured, his voice rough even in wolf form. Her chest burned. Suddenly— Snap. Something invisible locked into place. A thin red thread appeared. It shimmered into existence, glowing softly under the moon. One end wrapped gently around Kylie’s wrist. The other slid around Elijah’s wrist without force, without resistance. The bond settled. Alive. Real. The crowd exploded. “What! what is that?!” “A red thread?!” “That’s impossible!” “No... no way!” Merilyn staggered back a step. Her eyes widened in pure shock. “A… mate bond?”

“Then, why do you do it if it brings bad luck to people? “I’m just thinking in advance! They said, if two people died, it would bind lovers together in the hereafter.” Clayton sighed and surrender to her. He doesn’t want to see her sad. “Alright, after all those are just beliefs.” Barbara smiled as she attached the other end of the thread to her wrist then they held hands. “Yeah! We have nothing to lose by trying.” “I will make you believe that this red thread will tie us together forever. Until death do us part.” Clayton pinched her nose. “Silly! Even if it doesn’t have a thread, I won’t be lost by your side. I will always be with you forever.”

It looked similar to the Moon Goddess's red thread of fate. Sharina frowned as she stared down at the unusual color of the thread binding us together. “The bond must have been formed,” Sarah said, since a third party couldn't see the thread. “It's... purple thread,” Sharina blurted. “Purple?” Sarah's expression hardened as she turned to me. “That means you never broke your bond with Emily.” “I told you I wasn't going to,” I cut in. “Malric–” “What does the purple thread mean?” I interrupted again.

His fingers hovered over my wrist but never quite touched it. A sudden sharp heat pulsed through my chest, the same heat from the ceremony. I gasped, across the bondless emptiness… something answered; second heartbeat. I staggered back. “That’s impossible,” I whispered. The stranger’s jaw hardened. My mind reeled. “No… I felt it break.” “You felt the rejection,” he corrected softly. “Not the end.” I shook my head. “You’re wrong.” For the first time, his composure cracked slightly in concern.

Motive would invite correction. The world thins by half a breath, and I am no longer inside any human place. I am inside function. The sensation is not darkness. It is clarity stripped of comfort. Everything here exists in terms of relation and weight. Threads stretch outward in every direction, faint lines of tension drawn across an invisible frame. Some glow with probability. Some tremble with impending endings. Some already fray, already loosening. And then the pressure focuses. Fate does not appear. It never has.

Morgana stood over them both, her expression a mixture of awe and concern. But what captured Aria's attention were the threads. The entire chamber was full of them, invisible to everyone else but blazingly clear to her now-opened sight. Bonds of every color connecting people throughout the room. She could see Landon's bond to his pack, strong silver threads connecting him to every Blackthorn wolf present. She could see Marcus's severed bond to Shadowmoon, a ragged, broken thing that still caused him pain.

"The assumption was always that everything reset." The projection continued. "New universe." Another cycle. "New people." Another cycle. "New history." Another cycle. The pattern repeated over and over. Then Mira pointed toward one specific thread. A tiny thread hidden beneath the others. One that stretched through every cycle. The same thread. Unbroken. The room became silent. Because everyone could see it. One thing had survived. Not perfectly. Not completely. But enough. The thread glowed softly. Blue. The same shade as Lily's eyes.