LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 17: Soul of the Spin
Soul of the Spin
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### **I: The Fusion**
Tom Peters woke in a field of golden wheat, the sky pulsing with constellations he'd erased lifetimes ago. The Golden Roulette Wheel was gone. Instead, its symbols glowed beneath his skin, etched into his bones like circuitry.
**[System Reboot – Soul-Weaver Symbiosis]**
▸ *Host Integrity: 100%*
▸ *Warning: Entity Classification – Celestial Anomaly*
He flexed his hand, and the wheat rippled in response, stalks bending away as if avoiding his touch. A rabbit darted past—then tripped over nothing, landing at his feet unharmed.
"You're… different," Xina said, emerging from the haze. Her Sword of Sindore hummed warily.
Tom smiled. The air smelled like probability. "The Wheel's not a tool anymore. It's *me*."
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### **II: Unconventional Blessings**
They tested it in the ruins of Kaltara Prime.
Council drones ambushed them, firing entropy rounds. Tom yawned. A meteor struck the battlefield, crushing the drones—a rock from a long-dead asteroid belt, defying orbital logic.
Xina stared. "Did you *plan* that?"
"Nope. Things just… *lean* my way now." He pocketed a shard of the meteor. It crumbled into stardust. "Side effect."
**[Passive Luck Buff – Active]**
▸ *Manifestation: Improbable Salvage*
That night, a storm flooded their camp. Tom's bedroll stayed dry—perched on the only rock not submerged. Xina's rations floated away, replaced by a crate of First Weaver nectar.
"Unfair," she grumbled, drinking the celestial honey.
"Tell that to the universe," Tom said, tossing her a luck-bent spoon. It always landed upright.
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### **III: The Council's Hunt**
The respite lasted nine days.
On the tenth, a Council Inquisitor arrived—a living paradox, its body a mosaic of timelines where Tom had died.
"You are an error," it hissed. "A glitch wearing a soul."
Tom flicked a pebble. It ricocheted through seven dimensions, striking the Inquisitor's core in all of them.
**[Automatic Defense – Probability Redirect]**
▸ *Threat Neutralized*
Xina gaped. "Since when can you *do* that?"
"Since forever, apparently." Tom frowned at his hands. "But it's… instinctual. Like breathing."
The Inquisitor's corpse dissolved, leaving a message burned into the soil:
***"The First Loom spins again. You cannot out-luck destiny."***
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### **IV: Stacy's Warning**
Stacy found them at a luck-bent oasis, its waters defying gravity. Her Void Sovereign form flickered between human and horror.
"The Sanctum's shaking," she said, refusing the nectar. "Your fusion's destabilizing realities. Whole sectors are… *tilting*."
Tom waded into the oasis. Fish leaped into his hands, fully cooked. "Not my fault."
"It *is*." Stacy's claws gripped his shoulder, drawing golden blood. "The Wheel's hunger is yours now. You're pulling luck from *everywhere*, not nowhere. Enjoying picnics while galaxies fray."
**[Soul-Weaver Alert – Reality Strain Detected]**
▸ *Passive Drain: 0.003% Per Hour*
Tom tossed a luck-bent stone. It skipped seven times, then sank. "I'll fix it."
"You'd better," Stacy said. "Before the First Loom fixes *you*."
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### **V: The Calm**
For three days, Tom let luck lead him.
He napped in the eye of a hurricane, woke to a library of forgotten knowledge, and dined with a tribe who'd been praying for "the Gambler's shadow." Their elder grinned toothlessly.
"You're the first good omen we've had," she said, gifting him a dice carved from a dead star.
**[Artifact Acquired – Cosmic Die]**
▸ *Effect: Roll for a Fragment of Lost Time*
Tom rolled it idly. The die landed on **III**, and Diane's laughter echoed through the tent.
"Miss me?" her ghost teased, sipping spectral wine.
"Always," Tom said.
She vanished when the die stopped spinning.
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### **VI: The First Loom's Call**
The visions began quietly—a whisper in his dreams of a machine older than time, weaving existence without mercy or mistake.
**[First Loom Signature Detected]**
▸ *Coordinates: Edge of Oblivion*
Lira arrived, her void scales bristling. "It's awake. And it's *angry*."
Tom's luck-bent oasis dried up. The cosmic die turned to ash. "Why?"
"You're an insult," Lira spat. "A rogue thread. The First Loom won't stop until you're *unspun*."
Xina hefted her sword. "So we kill it."
"No," Tom said, staring at his golden hands. "We outsmart it."
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### **VII: The Trial of Infinite**
The First Loom awaited in a realm beyond death, its gears forged from the first laws of physics. It spoke in equations:
***[Probability of Your Survival: 0.000000071%]***
Tom grinned. "Never liked odds."
He stepped into its light—and his luck *bent*.
Reality itself gambled on his behalf:
- Black holes birthed butterflies.
- Time loops snapped like twigs.
- The Loom's perfect weave *twitched*.
**[Soul-Weaver Overdrive – Active]**
▸ *Cost: 10% Soul Integrity Per Second*
"Stop!" Xina screamed.
Too late. The Loom unraveled, and Tom dissolved into golden static.
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### **VIII: Rebirth's Edge**
He woke human.
The Wheel's symbols were scars now. His luck—mundane, fragile, *mortal*.
Stacy shook him, her claws gentle. "You idiot. You *almost* died."
"Did it work?" Tom croaked.
Lira gestured to the sky. The stars burned differently—imperfect, chaotic, *alive*.
"The First Loom's… *hesitant*," she said. "For now."
**[System Update – Soul-Weaver Symbiosis Dormant]**
▸ *Manual Activation Available (1 Use Remaining)*
Tom pocketed the dead cosmic die. "Then let's go home."
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### **IX: Threads of Tomorrow**
**Tom's Journal:**
The Wheel's quiet. I'm just… me. But sometimes, when I trip, the ground softens. When I sigh, storms pause. The universe remembers.
**Xina's Note:**
Found a luck-bent flower in the ruins. It blooms in zero sunlight. He says it's a coincidence. Liar.
**Stacy's Transmission:**
*"Sanctum's stable. For now. P.S. Your 'mortal' luck still owes me a new ship."*
**Lira's Omen (Etched in Void):**
*"The First Loom regroups. It will adapt. *You* must evolve."*
**Diane's Final Whisper (via Cosmic Echo):**
*"You gave luck back. Now learn to live without it."*
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