Chapter 3703: The Two Thousand Nine Hundred and Seventy-Second Echo: The Void Where a Story Had Been

The silence that followed the fading of the story was unlike any that had come before.

It was not the generative silence of the Listeners, nor the expectant silence of the Weavers, but a void—a chilling, absolute emptiness where something had once been.

The story, a simple tale of a Weaver who learned to sing the song of a particular stone, had been a bridge, a first attempt to weave together the two warring philosophies of their people.

And now, it was gone, not just from memory, but from the world itself.

The stone it described sat inert and silent, its song extinguished.