Threadless : A growing novel

"When shadows don't match, something is rewriting the light."

They followed Mei through the outer corridor — the one past the paper hallway, where chalk lines turned soft and threads in the wall hummed too quietly.

"This place isn't on the map," Aro said.

"It is," Mei replied. "Just not on your version."

She tapped a spot on the wall. A shimmer passed through it like thread tension snapping — and a door unfolded sideways, revealing a narrow room lined with thread-monitoring lenses.

Inside, floating chalk runes glowed faintly on the far wall, displaying what looked like real-time loop shadows. One of them pulsed faintly behind Rin's frame.

It didn't mimic her.

It waited a moment longer.

Then copied.

"I isolated the delay signature," Mei explained. "It's a shadow stitched from old loops. It means… something of you got left behind."

Rin stepped forward, watching the mimic twitch just off-sync.

"That shadow knows me."

"Or knew you before you changed," Mei muttered.

Suddenly, the runes blinked.

A new pattern was forming. Mei leaned in, eyes narrowing.

"Someone else just entered the shadow field."

They turned—

And Jun walked in.

Unannounced.

Unshaken.

Eating a lemon bun.

"You're terrible at sneaking, Mei."

Mei glared. "You weren't even on the scanner."

Jun grinned, chewing slowly. "That's because I wasn't in this part of the loop."

Rin stepped forward.

"Where did you go?"

"Side-thread," he said casually. "You're not supposed to be able to walk sideways. Unless someone stitches an exit."

He pointed at Rin.

"And you stitched one."

Rin blinked. "No, I didn't."

"Exactly," Jun said.

"But your other shadow did."