Not every soul finds its way out. When the World Soul fractured and the boundaries between life and death began to blur, some souls became caught in the space between. Too broken to pass on. Too present to disappear.

The Frayed are what remains of those who could not complete the crossing. They do not haunt. They suffer. Their existence is a wound that never closes, a loop of pain with no beginning and no clear end. They do not know what they are looking for. They only know that something is missing.

Those with soul sensitivity do not see them. They feel them. A pressure behind the chest. A grief that does not belong to them. A sorrow so old it has forgotten its own name.