Chapter 28 — The Silence Between Threads

Yusuf woke to quiet.

Not the comforting quiet of a library closing time, nor the quiet of early morning before the streets came to life. This quiet was heavy, immense, and unnaturally quiet. It pressed against his ears like water.

He lay on his back, staring up at a non-ceiling—a endless plane of gray, gently churning like smoke. When he sat up, the Codex beside him, closed and cold. No faceless child. No Rae. Just him.

It wasn't until now, when this journey had begun, that Yusuf realized how heavy his breathing was, how human his footsteps were when he walked. Alone.

He bellowed once, twice. No answer. His shout was swallowed by the gray.

The Codex moved in his hand, its pages creaking open by themselves. But instead of the familiar threads, there was only a lone word inscribed on the blank parchment:

WAIT.

Yusuf clenched his teeth. "Wait for what? Wait for whom?"

The quiet offered nothing.

He began walking. The earth was soft, close to sponge-like, and did not leave footprints. His legs were in motion, but distance didn't change. It was like walking in an unbound memory—a space between one story and another.

With every stride, Rae's loss pressed upon him. She had stood by his side, and now—gone. And the child. For all mystery, all strangeness, faceless child had been a constant presence. The thought of that small hand grasping at his sleeve and being nonexistent made his chest ache.

He clutched the Codex in his hand. "I cannot lose them both."

A ripple moved across the gray horizon. Shadows coiled into indistinct shapes. Yusuf thought at first they were humans—but they had no details. No faces. No names. Only voided silhouettes passing by him like ghosts.

He stood still. They did not notice him.

But when one drifted close, he could hear the whisper.

". Yusuf."

He did not move. The shadow's head turned his way. Its body stretched, twisted, reformed—and for an instant, it was Rae's shape.

"… don't… forget…

And it fell apart, scattering like ash in water.

Yusuf backed away, pounding heart. His fingers brushed the Codex, seeking something to cling to. The book unfurled again, trembling, ink coalescing on the page.

This is the Between. Threads severed. Decisions echo here.

Below that, in the thinnest of lines, another followed. Half-doubtful.

Find them. Or be destroyed.".

The gray beneath Yusuf's feet began to roil wildly, as if tearing fabric. The earth gave way in patches, revealing not one—but thousands of threads beneath him. Some pulsed faintly, some split in two, some ran together in veins.

It was blinding.

One thread pulsed brighter than the rest. Blood-red.

The Codex vibrated in his palms.

And Yusuf knew—he had to jump.

He looked once more at the silhouettes moving by, hollow figures of the people he had lost, and then he leaped.

Silence was broken.

The world consumed him.