Shoko sat on the edge of his bed, hands clenched in his lap. The strange thread he had felt in Lunareth earlier still pulsed in his mind, almost like it had its own heartbeat. He tried to ignore it, but something deeper told him it would not let him rest.
A soft breeze drifted through the open window, carrying the faint shimmer of light that seemed to move on its own. The air grew thick and warm, like it was charged with power. Shoko stood slowly, feeling a strange pull toward the center of his room.
Suddenly, the thread pulsed again, stronger this time. It rose from the floor, weaving and stretching into a figure.
A presence unlike anything Shoko had ever seen formed in front of him. A humanoid figure, entirely transparent, shimmered with a mixture of gold and white light. Its wings were vast and ethereal, glimmering like liquid sunlight. The hair was similar to Shoko's, white with a faint silver tint, flowing around shoulders with almost the same length. Its eyes were hidden behind a smooth, featureless mask, but Shoko could feel their gaze as if it penetrated directly into him.
The figure's movements were fluid, deliberate, almost regal. The thread that had called him now seemed to emanate from this being.
"Shoko," the figure said, its voice echoing inside his mind rather than through the air. "You have awakened. You are ready."
Shoko froze, his chest tightening. The figure radiated a presence that felt both comforting and terrifying.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.
"I am what you are becoming," the figure replied. "And what you must face. I am your reflection, yet not you. I am the path your threads can reach if you dare to extend them fully."
Shoko swallowed hard. His hands trembled, but he straightened his back. He could feel fear gnawing at him, but there was also determination rising.
"I… I am not afraid," he said, voice steadier than he expected. "If you are like me, I will face you."
The figure tilted its head slightly, wings rustling like silk. "Brave words for one so young. Few would dare speak them to what is inevitable."
Shoko's chest rose and fell. "I am not a boy who hides anymore. I have lived in fear long enough. I will learn, I will fight, and I will grow stronger. You will not scare me."
A faint hum of energy pulsed through the room. The figure shifted closer, the golden light of its body reflecting across the walls. The wings unfurled wider, and the mask over its eyes gleamed like polished ivory. Its presence pressed against Shoko, and yet he did not back away.
"You feel it, do you not?" the figure said. "The thread of your potential, the power waiting within your veins. You are no ordinary mage, Shoko. You are something the world has not seen before."
Shoko's fingers itched with the need to extend his string magic. He closed his eyes for a moment, picturing the threads weaving from his hands. They moved on their own, glowing faintly, as if responding to the figure's presence.
"I feel it," he said. "And I am ready to control it. To learn everything I can. Show me… show me what I need to see."
The figure's wings flexed gracefully, and its voice softened slightly. "Very well. You must see the path before you, and understand what it means to wield the threads of creation. You are both the weaver and the woven."
Shoko's eyes snapped open. His threads rose from his hands, stretching outward, intertwining in patterns that shimmered with pale gold and silver. The figure mirrored the threads, and Shoko realized that it was guiding him, showing him what he could do if he allowed himself to reach further than he ever had.
The threads of the figure intertwined with his own, almost as if they were extensions of each other. Every movement Shoko made was sharper, more precise. His confidence grew with each weave.
"You are stronger than even you realize," the figure said. "Your bravery is what will allow you to surpass every limitation."
Shoko straightened. "I will not hide. I will not run. I will grow stronger, and I will protect the people I care about."
The figure paused, tilting its head in acknowledgment. "Then you are ready. But remember this. Every thread you weave, every choice you make, will shape the world in ways you cannot yet see. Power is not just strength. It is responsibility."
Shoko nodded, feeling his resolve solidify. "I understand. And I accept it. I will carry that responsibility."
The figure's form began to fade, the golden light dispersing into countless threads of energy that lingered in the air. Its voice echoed one final time.
"Do not fear what you are to become. But never forget what it means to be Shoko. The world will challenge you, and you must rise."
Shoko's threads slowly retracted to his hands, leaving him alone in his room, yet different somehow. His chest still raced, but there was no fear, only a determination he had never felt before.
He clenched his fists, eyes glowing faintly purple. "I will not run. I will face everything that comes. I am Shoko, and I will grow stronger."
The faint traces of golden thread lingered in the air, pulsating like a heartbeat. Shoko reached out instinctively, and a shiver ran down his spine. He knew that the figure's appearance was only the beginning. Something greater was calling him, testing him, waiting for the moment he would be ready.
Shoko's eyes hardened. His bravery had begun. And he would not falter again.
The night passed quietly, but Shoko could feel it in the back of his mind. The figure, his reflection, his future, was waiting. And the threads of fate had only begun to unravel.