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Now reading: Chapter 1738: Story 1738: The First Great Fracture from Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition, a Action novel by Sir Faraz.

Chapter 1738: Story 1738: The First Great Fracture

The bridge narrowed as they ventured deeper into the Weave.

What had once been a radiant path now dimd to a thin strand of glimring light, stretching into a darkness that shimred like oil. The further they walked, the heavier the air beca—dense with unspoken fears and mories too fragile to touch.

Marra shivered. “This place… it feels wrong.”

Tovin nodded. “Like stepping into soone’s grief.”

Erian didn’t answer. The Dreamfire’s mory pulsed steadily, guiding them forward like a heartbeat echoing in the void.

Soon, the strand beneath them widened into a platform woven from frayed threads—many snapped, others discolored, so trembling as though rembering sothing terrible. At the center of the platform hung a single suspended tear of crystallized light, cracked through its core.

The First Great Fracture.

The Weave’s voice murmured in the distance, low and mournful:

“A dream so powerful it shaped a life… and shattered when its hope died.”

Erian approached the fractured tear. Inside it, scenes flickered like broken lanterns in a storm. A child running toward a door. A woman reaching back with trembling hands. A man shouting a na through fire and smoke.

Marra stepped closer, eyes softening. “This isn’t just a dream. It’s a mory.”

Tovin swallowed hard. “Whose?”

Before the Weave could answer, the fragnts inside the crystal swirled violently—as if aware of their presence.

A voice pierced the air.

A child’s voice.

“Don’t let go.”

The tear cracked wider, releasing a shockwave that knocked all three siblings backward. The light burst outward, and from it erged a figure shaped from mory and sorrow. A small girl, no older than six, holding a charred doll. Her eyes were hollow—deep puddles of grief where dreams once lived.

Marra gasped. “She’s… she’s the fracture?”

But as the girl took a step forward, the air around her warped. Shadows poured from her feet, extending like long, reaching arms. The threads beneath her curled up like dead leaves.

Erian steadied the Dreamfire’s mory. “She isn’t the fracture—she’s what remains of it.”

The girl’s lips parted.

“He promised he’d co back.”

Shadows behind her churned, rising into towering silhouettes—massive forms with burning eyes, born from abandonnt, loss, and promises broken by fire.

Tovin stepped in front of Marra. “These aren’t dreams. They’re regrets.”

The ground shook as one of the giants lunged.

Erian dodged, rolling across the frayed threads. “She’s trapped in the mont her world broke.”

The Weave’s voice echoed urgently:

“Do not fight the regrets. Heal the mory.”

Marra knelt slowly, lowering her dagger. She reached out toward the little girl.

“Hey… what’s your na?”

The girl looked up, trembling. “L-Lyra.”

“It’s okay, Lyra,” Marra whispered. “You’re not alone anymore.”

The shadows recoiled, wavering.

Tovin approached next, hands open. “What happened to the one you were waiting for?”

The girl clutched her doll. “My brother… he said he’d co back before the fire…”

Her voice cracked into a sob.

The shadows writhed, weakening.

Erian stepped forward, lowering his sword until its light reflected in the girl’s hollow eyes.

“Lyra,” he murmured, “your brother didn’t leave you. You’re still holding on to him. That ans he’s still with you… right here.”

He gently touched her hand.

Light blossod around her—soft, warm, golden.

The towering shadows behind her dissolved into dust, unraveling into threads of silver that returned to the Weave.

The fracture began to nd.

The crystal tear sealed slowly, glowing brighter with every mont Lyra allowed herself to breathe.

She looked up at them—eyes no longer hollow, but shimring with faint hope.

“Thank you.”

And with that, she faded gently into the Weave—her dream finally at peace.

Erian exhaled. “One fracture healed.”

Tovin looked at the now-stabilized threads. “How many more are there?”

The Weave answered, its voice stretching across infinity:

“As many as humanity has ever broken.”

Marra lifted her chin.

“Then we’d better keep moving.”

Together, they stepped off the platform—toward the next wound in the world of dreams.

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