You wake up with a strange sensation. Your arm feels lighter... and numb...

At first, you think you slept on it wrong. You move your fingers, expecting the feeling to pass, but it does not. Instead, a faint golden glow flickers beneath your skin.

You stare at your hand and realize, in shock, that you can see through it. The tips of your fingers are almost fully transparent. You rub your eyes. Surely, you are still half-asleep. It must be a waking dream.

But no. No matter how many times you look, no matter how hard you pinch yourself, the strange transparency remains. It is as if some invisible part of you has been quietly removed.

Then something appears beneath the glow.

A thread.

It is thin, golden and almost impossible to see. It seems to run beneath your skin like a hairline crack in the light. For a few seconds, it trembles inside your fading hand.

Then it snaps.

The sound is soft. But it is there.

And you feel the twitch in your muscles.

For a moment, nothing else happens. You sit there, frozen, staring at your hand as if staring long enough might force it to become normal again.

Then the room begins to fade. The walls grow thin. The ceiling dissolves into a vast, endless black filled with stars. The floor beneath you becomes transparent, then disappears entirely.

Suddenly, there is nothing below you.

Only the universe.

Your stomach drops. For one terrifying second, you think you are about to fall into it... down through the stars, past worlds and moons and distant lights you cannot name.

You reach for something. Anything. But there is nothing to hold on to. The golden glow in your hand burns brighter. Threads appear everywhere. Millions of them.

They stretch across the darkness like paths of light, crossing between stars, wrapping around planets, vanishing into places too far away to understand. Some are bright. Some are dim. Some tremble. Some have already gone still.

Then the broken thread beneath your skin pulls sharply. And the universe vanishes. You are back in your room.

The walls are solid again. The floor is beneath you. The morning light looks ordinary.

But your hand is still transparent. When you lift your fingers, the movement feels slightly delayed, as if your body has to remember that they are still attached.

In panic, you hurry to the nearest healer.

The woman examines your hand in silence. She turns it carefully, presses two fingers against your wrist, then holds a small crystal over your palm. The crystal remains clear.

"That is not an infection."

She tries another charm. Then another. A bowl of silver water. A strip of blessed cloth. A needle held near the glowing thread beneath your skin.

Nothing reacts.

Her concern deepens.

"I have never seen such an affliction. I am afraid there is nothing I can do. My powers are limited. If only I could determine the source of your ailment..."

She sighs and rubs her temple.

"You should consider seeking the assistance of greater forces. Let me think... The Oracle is said to harness the wisdom of the Cosmos. And the High Priestess speaks on behalf of the Gods. If you obtained an audience with either of them, they may be able to provide you with more insight."

The healer looks at your hand again.

"Go. Quickly. You need to find the source of the affliction before it can be treated. And you need it treated before you disappear."