Behind her, Rae screamed.
She turned just in time to see one of the Thread Eaters wrap around him—and his thread flashed blue, not red.
Blue?
But he said—he swore...
Luna touched the mirror.
It shattered inward.
When she opened her eyes, she was somewhere else.
Not in a cave, not in a mirror world—but inside a room made of woven light. Floating symbols glowed around her, spelling nothing yet whispering everything.
In the center stood a throne of threads, and on it—a woman.
Long black hair. A scar over her brow.
"Luna," she said softly.
Luna's breath caught.
"…Mom?"
Back in the cavern, the shattered mirror slowly reformed—like it had taken something with it.
Rae lay on the ground, motionless. Thread burns etched across his chest and arms like sacred script.
The Thread Eaters had vanished.
But one last strand hung in the air above him—his thread.
It twisted, flickered.
And changed.
From blue, to black.
A cursed thread.
He opened his eyes, barely breathing, and whispered to the dark:
"Forgive me, Luna… before you find out what I really did."