One evening, while threading a particularly stubborn strand of a sunset from the year 1042, he felt a sharp tug. It wasn't a fray; it was a pulse. Someone was pulling back from the other side of the timeline. This was impossible. The past was supposed to be silent, but this pulse sounded like a desperate heartbeat.
Elias decided to do the forbidden: he stepped into the loom. He descended into the fragment of time where the pulse originated. He found himself in a city made entirely of glass, frozen in the middle of a great storm. The rain hung in the air like diamonds, unmoving.
There, he saw her—a young woman named Lyra. Unlike everything else in this frozen moment, she was moving. But Lyra was different; she had no reflection, and her shadow was made of flickering glass. She was a "Time-Glitch," a person born from the friction of two colliding eras.
"You're the one pulling the threads," Elias said, his voice echoing in the breathless air.
"I'm not pulling," Lyra replied, her voice sounding like bells. "I'm unraveling. If I don't find the 'Original Second,' I will disappear, and this city will shatter into a thousand never-weres."
