The Weavers could not ignore the echoes of the Architect. To do so would be to cede their new reality to the ghost of the old. They had to make a stand. The first stand was not a battle, but a choice. It was a choice to weave a thread of hope in the face of fear, a thread of love in the face of anger, a thread of creation in the face of destruction. It was a choice to weave a new pattern, a pattern that would be strong enough to withstand the echoes of the past.