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1070. Graveyard of Strung Husks
🕑 Added 2025-09-17 10:18:21 +0000 UTCHowever, she could not bring herself to grasp the strand.
The others that were also presented behind that strand promised better futures. But she had seen them before, and worse, she had once lived in servitude as a puppet to a higher being.
“… Malgam…”
Joy came to understand why Frost’s light was not here. Frost’s light didn’t guarantee anything. It was but a luminary light rather than one that revealed everything in its way. In a sense, it was imperfect, yet it was that same light that had released her from her shackles.
“Can’t…”
She remembered the life she spent in servitude.
Though she felt no pain and was given purpose, she never lived a life she could call her own.
That same light allowed her to struggle. Without it, would she be any different to what she was as a Corrupted? A being bound to nothing but a purpose? Joy couldn’t see a future where she could ignore her actions.
The future couldn’t be known. It was impossible to account for everything. The Fate Mechanism was capable of bypassing this law. But through it, she would become a puppet.
She wouldn’t have to think again.
No longer would she have discretion.
“Stay with the Sovereign Star…!”
Her declaration was weak. But she was certain of this. A small claw formed at the end of a finger.
“O’ Child of conceptual creation, our origins are alike. Brought in from a collective beyond understanding and made to wander bare of purpose.”
“You deny a strand of fate hoping to wander all the same?”
The voice did not judge her. It took Joy aback. She had expected it to admonish her. But its tone remained curious, as if it was trying to understand why she had rejected its offer.
“A piece of destiny, an adlib in your woven fate. O’ Untethered Child, a future without a thread is one of insurmountable struggle. Your mind can be protected by the Voice of the Void and the light of sky sigils.”
“I only need one.”
Joy cut the strand with a desolate slash. Her power, for that one instant, returned to her. The cut let out a shockwave that rippled through the field of dandelions, and millions of balls of strings flew into the air. The light intensified, and strands that held up the island began snapping.
The world shook as the island tilted to one side, sending debris hurling over the edge where an endless ocean waited beneath. She plunged her arm into the ground to keep herself from falling.
“G-Gam…!”
The rock around her wrist loosened with cracks as she gazed upwards, seeing the celeste light of the Fate Mechanism.
Her eyes acclimated to the intensity of the light, and beyond those clouds she witness structures resembling spools, and platforms made of colossal gears. Ornate towers made in the image of the cylindrical drum used in music boxes rose to impossible heights that were enshrouded by fog and light.
It loosely resembled Act X’s headquarters, only that it was not made from strings.
The amalgamation of instruments was no more than the foot of a place she could not begin to fathom.
And beyond it was the light of the beast that had spoken to her.
“It reveals itself even in mine sovereign domain. Inhabitants of this era call it a Corrupted Zone. Our Weft was called a Zone of Arbitration.”
The rock cracked, and she slipped along the terrain. Joy desperately clawed at the earth, hoping to stop her descent, but the daffodils clumped at her claws like glue. It weighed her, causing her to slip faster until she could only move left and right to avoid boulders.
Strands continued to snap. The force saw the untethered strands leave lashes across the landmass. The end drew near. She could not bring out her other arms to aid her, nor could her tail move anymore with the amount of silk binding her.
Joy struggled to no avail. By a miracle, the bindings caught her on a sharp piece of hanging stone. She hung from the edge of the floating island, its shadow casting the sea beneath in an impenetrable darkness.
“M-Mal… Malgam…”
She was safe, she thought. So long as she didn’t move then it was possible to free herself from her bindings. But when she attempted to remove the gunk between her claws, another array of strings snapped above, and the island plunged several meters before bouncing back up.
“G-Gam!”
“It is not too late to accept my gift.”
“Show me a fate through the strand.”
“Let this one see what your fate looks like.”
The strand dangled in front of her face. She could be saved by just taking it.
“… Never…” Joy’s fear turned into frustration. Seeing the string appear when she was on the verge of falling made her aware of this being’s intentions. As a result, she lashed out with a clumpy hand.
The strand flickered into hair-like motes before disappearing.
“W-Whaaa!?”
Joy had forgotten in that moment of rage that she was precariously hanging on the edge of a rock. That swing had caused it to saw through her bindings, and after several snaps, she plunged straight into the depths beneath.
“MALGAM! MALGAM! MALGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!”
Howling winds drowned her voice. Hidden beneath the island were the outlines of transparent columns made of azure thread. Their thickness expanded as she fell at terminal velocity for over a minute straight. The sea became a unified color of dark blue moments before it became a spot of pure darkness.
It swallowed her with an unceremonious gulp. Not even a splash was made as she tumbled into the sea. She flung her arms around as bubbles violently escaped her lips. A dim light generated from her eyes like searchlight as she swam through the silent waters.
Her hands brushed against something smooth. She turned in its direction and she was faced with what appeared to be the shell of a colossal insect. Looking around, she noticed that there were more hollowed husks hidden behind the darkness.
It was a graveyard of husks.
Most were gigantic insects of varying species. Bees. Spiders. Wasps. Worms. Locusts. Others were bizarrely in the shape of shells, or even organs. Machines also existed. Puppets of steel, ice, wood and stone. They were hollowed out cleanly, and they were attached to a single strand of celeste-colored thread.
The columns continued further beneath. They seemed to dig into the very recesses of the world.
“Observers are born from concepts of optimism. They can only exist in the protection of guarantees. He who guided with his light in the Northern skies despised primordial callings.”
“His name was Polaris.”
“You and that Observer of Hope carry a familiar essence.”
“Do not despair Untethered Child. This grave belongs to those who have served their purpose. They continue in death.”
Joy’s lungs were overfilled. She could no longer breathe, and her vision began to wane. Death was unavoidable, and she could only flail her limbs until she floated in place, unmoving.
All sensation left her, and her mind drifted away as did her body. An invisible current took her deep into the darkness. Strands that would get in her way warped to avoid touching her.
A somber melody rang from somewhere behind the veil of darkness.
It was the last thing she heard before succumbing to it.
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Trivia: Weft is part of the name of an irl technique called 'Warp and Weft' which is used to create cloth/fabric.
