Chasing my Luna
The orb pulsed, and a voice—not a whisper, but a chorus—echoed, layered with every weaver’s tone yet wholly new: *“Jessica, heart of the nexus, come. See your truth.”
The orb flared, and the path dissolved, the group standing within a boundless space, the golden orb now a loom, its threads weaving a tapestry of their journey—not just their battles, but their moments of joy, grief, and love. Jessica saw herself, not as a guardian but as a girl, her spark alive, her mother beside her. The hollowness ached, but the tapestry shifted, showing her now—hollow but glowing, her companions at her side.
Sikat na Kabanata