Chasing my Luna
The starfield above warped, constellations bending toward the crimson star, as if drawn to its power.
The path opened into a vast, cavernous arena, its walls carved with glowing runes that pulsed red, forming a labyrinth of light and shadow. At its center stood a loom, its frame forged from dark metal, its threads crimson and taut, weaving a tapestry that didn’t show visions but a single, endless spiral—a vortex of choices, each leading to a different nexus, some thriving, others ash. The air was thick with heat, the pulse deafening, and Jessica’s hollowness screamed, as if the loom knew her void.
Bab Populer