Roam Contacts the Weaver

The fractured orb rested in a reinforced cradle at Roam’s side, its dim glow a reminder of the peril it held within. Roam adjusted its transmitter and sent the signal into the void of the ether.

Fractured orb recovered. Transporting to sanctuary for immediate repair. Redirect as necessary.

Far to the south, the Weaver moved with unerring grace, its shimmering form a stark contrast to the bleak expanse of the plain. It had been tracking faint echoes of the fractured orb’s presence, drawn by the whisper of its disruption.

When the signal reached it, the Weaver slowed, strands of its body vibrating in recognition. A moment of stillness passed, as though it were deliberating. Then, it shifted course, its fluid motion carrying it toward the sanctuary instead of its previous destination.

Roam began the next leg of its journey. The fractured orb pulsed faintly, but Roam could feel something—an alignment, a sense that unseen forces were converging to set things right.