"The Clock of Possibilities"

The thread shimmered faintly in Mira's hands, its light no longer vibrant but still present, like an ember waiting to be fanned into flame.

"Can I fix it?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and fear.

Elias studied her for a long moment. "Perhaps. But to restore a thread, you must step into its world, live the possibility it represents. Only then can you decide whether it's worth saving."

Mira frowned. "Step into its world? Like… relive the past?"

"Not exactly," Elias replied. "You won't be reliving it. You'll be experiencing the possibility as if it were real. But remember, Mira, it is not your reality. It is a shadow, a path not taken. Losing yourself in it could cost you everything."

The words sent a chill down her spine, but the thought of letting Kian's thread fade filled her with an even deeper dread. She tightened her grip on the glowing strand.

"I need to see it," she said firmly.

Elias sighed, his expression darkening. "Then brace yourself. The clock does not grant second chances lightly."

Mira closed her eyes and let the thread guide her. The room of threads dissolved around her, replaced by the familiar streets of her village. It was the day Kian had asked her to leave.

She saw herself again, standing by the fountain in the marketplace, her arms crossed defensively. Kian stood in front of her, his dark hair ruffled by the wind, his eyes pleading.

"You don't have to stay here, Mira," he was saying. "We can leave tonight. Start over somewhere new. Don't you want more than this?"

Her younger self hesitated, her lips parting as if to speak. But instead of answering, she glanced toward the bakery where her mother worked, her face filled with doubt.

"I can't, Kian," she said finally, her voice barely audible. "I'm not ready."

Kian's face fell, the light in his eyes dimming. "You'll never be ready," he said quietly. "Sometimes you just have to jump."

The scene shifted. Suddenly, Mira was no longer an observer. She was herself again, standing in Kian's path as he turned to leave.

"Wait," she called out, her voice breaking.

He paused, his back still turned to her.

This isn't how it happened, she realized.

But it didn't matter. She took a step forward, her heart pounding. "I'll go with you."

Kian turned, his eyes wide with disbelief. And then he smiled—a smile so radiant it made Mira's chest ache.

The world around her changed again, the marketplace dissolving into a blur of colors. She saw fragments of the life they might have shared: long nights under the stars, laughter and whispered dreams, the two of them navigating a city far from home.

But the visions weren't all bright. She saw struggles too—empty pockets, harsh winters, arguments that left her feeling hollow. She saw Kian's smile fade over time, replaced by a weariness she didn't recognize.

And then, she was back in the room of threads, gasping for air.

Elias stood before her, his arms crossed, his expression grim. "Now you understand," he said.

Mira sank to the floor, her hands trembling. "It wasn't perfect," she murmured. "Even if I'd gone with him… it wouldn't have been perfect."

"No path is," Elias said. "Every choice comes with its own joys and its own sorrows. The question is, which path are you willing to walk?"

Mira stared at the golden-blue thread. It glowed a little brighter now, but it no longer held the same allure it once had. She realized she wasn't just chasing a life with Kian—she was chasing the idea of escaping her regrets.

For the first time, she wondered if the answers she sought could be found not in the threads of the past, but in the choices she still had to make.