Chapter 3695: The Two Thousand Nine Hundred and Sixty-Fourth Echo: A Homecoming to a Nameless Language

The Weavers, accustomed to the vibrant tapestry of sung narratives, found the silence unnerving, a void where there should have been meaning.

The Listeners, however, felt a thrill of recognition, a sense of homecoming to a language they had always known but never had a name for.

Lyra, watching from the edge of the circle, felt a chill that had nothing to do with the air. It was the silence of a world without a story, and it reminded her of the unraveling.