Chapter 3103: The Two Thousand Three Hundred and Seventy-Second Echo: The Thrill of the Blank Page

The weaver of twilight, now a silent observer, felt the being’s question resonate within its own consciousness.

It was a question that held no anxiety, no fear, no impatience.

It was the pure, unadulterated joy of the unknown, the thrill of the blank page.

The weaver smiled, a silent expression of contentment that rippled through the cosmos.

It had set in motion a story that was now writing itself, and it was a story more beautiful than it could have ever imagined.