The Kronos Plane.
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!
The gray-white light at the edge of the fissure churned violently. Each strike shook loose several strands of pale gold thread.
Tiny beads of sweat formed on Mira's forehead, sliding down her temples and dripping onto the collar of her white robe.
Her fingers were trembling.
But the light in her palm did not waver.
One by one, the scattered threads reconnected. One by one, they tightened.
The edges of the fissure slowly closed in her hands.
After what felt like an eternity, the thumping finally stopped.
And under Mira's effort, the fissure healed completely.
She withdrew her hand, turned, and knelt to look Sera in the eye.
"See? It's all right now."
She tucked a few strands of Sera's wind-tousled bangs behind her ear. A faint golden shimmer lingered on her fingers as she offered a faint smile.
Sera blinked, her eyelashes still wet with panicked tears. She sniffled.
"Is it closed?"
"It's closed."
"It won't open again?"
