Damian Stone — In the Shadow of a Great Nation

Part 14: The Silent Crossroads

Before me rose a towering structure, shrouded in white mist.

At its peak, a golden clock ticked in erratic, broken motions—

time itself had lost its order.

I stood at the base of the tower, waiting for someone.

Eventually, a figure emerged from the fog, draped in a black robe.

It uttered no words, yet it seemed to gaze into the deepest recesses of my soul.

Then, silently, it extended its hand.

In that hand was an ancient scroll.

As I unrolled it, I found a map of the world—and upon it, a golden spider.

Its legs stretched across many nations, each thread converging toward a single point.

“All lines converge on him.”

Was it the voice of my own thoughts,

or a whisper from within the mist?

I looked up toward the tower.

The hands of the golden clock had shifted—now pointing straight down.

As if to say: the time has come.

I nodded quietly, held the scroll to my chest,

and stepped into the tower.

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