Dovak leaned back in his chair, face flushed red, laughing so hard that he was barely making a sound. Sam, now in full storytelling mode, swung his arms dramatically, reenacting some wild tale that neither Nyx nor Nigel could make sense of. And William—who, just hours ago, had been the shy and awkward one—was grinning like an idiot, nodding along with whatever nonsense they were spewing.

  Nyx exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of her nose.

  Nigel let out a quiet sigh. “Figures.”

  Dovak, still catching his breath, spotted them and immediately threw his arms up. “Oh, come on! You two are so boring.” He gestured toward the empty seats at their table. “Sit down! Drink with us! For once in your miserable, serious lives, have fun!”

  Before either of them could answer—

  A bell rang.

  A deep, reverberating chime echoed across the Delta Zone, cutting through the laughter, music, and chatter like a blade through silk. The entire area stilled. Conversations died.

  A second later, their wristbands emitted a soft notification sound.

  A glowing holographic message materialized above their wrists.

  [Check your inventories. A glimpse of what’s to come awaits.]

  Nigel immediately pulled up his inventory. The others followed.

  Inside, something new had appeared.

  A weapon.

  With a flick of his fingers, Nigel materialized it. The moment it landed in his hand, he could tell—this wasn’t ordinary.

  A sword—sleek, slightly curved, polished to perfection. The handle was sturdy but elegant, and its sheath was adorned with intricate golden carvings. Near the base of the blade, two letters were engraved:

  Y.Y.

  The others examined their own. Identical. Nyx ran a thumb over the engraving, violet eyes narrowing. “Who’s Y.Y.?”

  “A better question,” Sam muttered, suddenly much more sober, “is what’s next?”

  Nigel glanced around. They weren’t the only ones.

  Dozens—no, hundreds—of participants were drawing the same swords from their inventories, hanging them at their waists like the newest fashion trend. Some were already testing their balance, practicing movements in the open courtyards. Others inspected them as if trying to decode their significance.

  One thing was certain: this wasn’t just a gift. It was a message.

  William snapped his fingers. “I passed by a library earlier. It was huge—probably as big as the hotel. If this means something, maybe there’s a record of it somewhere.”

  Dovak and Sam both turned to him, wide-eyed.

  “…How,” Sam asked, pointing at him, “are you fine?”

  William blinked. “What?”

  “You were just—” Sam gestured wildly. “—gone, dude. Wasted. And now you’re talking about libraries?”

  Dovak squinted, rubbing his chin. “Are you a secret cyborg?”

  William rolled his eyes. “Can we focus?”

  Nyx nodded. “It’s a good idea. Let’s go.”

  One by one, they secured their swords and left the bar.

  Some wanted information. Some wanted answers. And some… just wanted to be ready.

  The streets of the Delta Zone were still bustling, even as the artificial sun dimmed slightly to indicate late evening. Their newly acquired swords hung at their sides, the engraved "Y.Y." still a mystery.

  After following William’s directions, they finally arrived at the library.

  It was massive.

  A colossal stone structure loomed before them, its intricate carvings swirling across its surface like veins of knowledge etched into the very walls. A large wooden door, easily over five meters tall, stood in the center—imposing, absolute.

  William took a cautious step forward. "Well… here it is."

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  Sam tilted his head. "Huh. Bit dramatic for a place full of books, don’t you think?"

  Dovak cracked his knuckles. "It’s just a door. Let’s open it."

  He stepped forward and pushed against it with one hand. It didn’t budge.

  He frowned, placing both hands on the wood and shoving harder. Nothing.

  "Okay, that’s annoying," Dovak muttered.

  Sam stepped up beside him, rolling his shoulders. "Alright, big guy, tag me in."

  He took a deep breath, cracked his fingers, and then gave the door a light push. Nothing.

  He pushed harder. The door didn’t even creak.

  Now visibly irritated, Sam turned to Nyx. "Okay, so what’s the plan? We knock? Speak ‘friend’ and enter?"

  Nyx raised an eyebrow. "You could just try thinking for once."

  Sam scoffed. "Please. I’m a man of action." He turned back and squared his stance. "Alright. Plan B."

  Before anyone could stop him, he kicked the door.

  A dull thud echoed through the air.

  The door did not move.

  Sam, however, clutched his foot and cursed under his breath. "Ow. Okay. Maybe not my best idea."

  Dovak smirked. "Let me try."

  He slammed his fist against the wood. Hard.

  Nothing.

  Dovak’s smirk vanished. He punched it again—harder this time. Again, nothing.

  William sighed. "Maybe it’s sealed by some kind of mechanism?"

  Nyx exhaled, already losing patience. "Let me—"

  "That’s because the door only exists to those who believe it is real," a voice said from behind them.

  All five of them whipped around at the same time.

  A man stood behind them, dressed in worn adventurer’s attire, with a black shemagh wrapped around his head and a matching black turban. The only visible part of him were his sharp, emerald-green eyes—ancient yet amused, like someone who had seen far too much and found it all endlessly entertaining.

  "You see," the man continued, "if you walk toward it believing it is false, you will pass through as if it were never there."

  Nyx’s gaze narrowed. "That sounds like nonsense."

  The man chuckled. "Then allow me to demonstrate."

  Without breaking stride, he walked directly toward the door—

  And passed straight through.

  No sound. No resistance.

  He simply ceased to be in front of them and was now on the other side.

  The group stared.

  Sam blinked. "…Okay, what the hell?"

  Dovak whistled, impressed. "Now that’s a neat trick."

  They exchanged looks. A silent agreement passed between them.

  Then—one by one—they stepped forward, walking directly into the seemingly solid wood.

  And just like that—

  They were inside.

  The air changed.

  A vast rectangular hall stretched before them, lined with towering bookshelves that seemed to stretch impossibly high, disappearing into a second floor above. Ornate candelabras flickered with golden light, illuminating the space with a soft, perpetual glow.

  A grand staircase stood at the back, splitting into two paths—one leading up, the other spiraling into a dark basement below. Beside it, two smaller doors, identical to the massive one they had just passed through.

  At the center of it all—the man from before stood waiting.

  "Well done!" he exclaimed, his voice carrying a mix of genuine delight and theatrical flair.

  He placed a hand over his chest and bowed slightly.

  "Allow me to introduce myself. I am The Librarian, the keeper of this place. I was waiting for you."

  Nyx crossed her arms. "You expected us?"

  The Librarian's eyes glimmered with something unreadable. "Of course."

  William, clearly suspicious, stepped forward. "How did you know we were coming?"

  The Librarian turned his gaze to him and—without hesitation—winked.

  "Because you are not complete yet."

  William hesitated. "What?"

  The Librarian gestured toward the endless shelves. "She is here. Somewhere among the books."

  Nyx’s gaze sharpened. "She?"

  "Your missing companion," The Librarian said smoothly. "She arrived earlier and asked where to find books on electronics, not that she can read them with that damaged helmet of hers, huh. If you wish to reunite with her, you will find her that way."

  He motioned to the leftmost aisle, where enormous shelves stretched endlessly, filled with what had to be thousands of books.

  Nigel’s pace quickened, his steps sharp against the polished floor as they moved through the towering aisles.

  Nyx narrowed her eyes. “What’s the rush?”

  “I don’t know,” Nigel muttered. “But that guy gives me weird vibes.”

  Dovak snorted, hands resting lazily on his belt. “You’re just paranoid.”

  But William wasn’t laughing. He rubbed his arms as if shaking off a chill. “No… I get it. The moment he showed up, I felt it too.”

  Nigel shot him a glance. “Exactly. Something about him is… off. And if he really is the Librarian, then I wouldn’t be surprised if he knows everything happening in this place.”

  William swallowed hard, nodding.

  Dovak, though still skeptical, lifted his gaze to the endless shelves above them. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but… the Librarian had felt unnatural. His presence was too smooth, his words too knowing.

  They pressed forward.

  The aisles stretched endlessly, towering bookshelves casting long shadows in the dim candlelight. They called for Claire in hushed tones, moving carefully through the seemingly endless rows.

  Minutes passed.

  Then more.

  A strange tension coiled in Nigel’s chest.

  The further they walked, the more the space around them felt… wrong. Like the bookshelves weren’t just standing there, but watching. Like the rows were shifting when they weren’t looking.

  His fingers twitched at his side.

  Then—

  Something caught his eye.

  A book, wedged perfectly between two thick tomes. Jet black leather. The spine gleamed under the candlelight, embossed with strange, swirling designs.

  "The Homogenization of Species," by Joseph W. Whites.

  Nigel hesitated.

  Something about the book felt wrong.

  Yet, at the same time…

  He reached out. The moment his fingers touched the cover, a subtle chill crawled up his arm. Ignoring it, he pulled the book free and flipped it open.

  Blank pages. Every. Single. One.

  Nigel frowned. He turned the pages faster, flipping through them, expecting something to appear. Nothing.

  He scowled. “Oy, any of you know this book?”

  Silence.

  Nigel looked up, and his breath hitched.

  He was alone.

  The bookshelves stretched impossibly high, their tops swallowed by shadows. The aisles now extended into a vast, endless labyrinth—the familiar architecture of the library was gone.

  His grip on the book tightened.

  “What the hell is this…?” he muttered, jaw clenching.

  His irritation flared. “Not even ten damn minutes in this place, and something weird is already happening—”

  “Calm yourself, boy.”

  A voice.

  Smooth, unhurried and right behind him.

  Nigel turned sharply—his sword already drawn, the polished blade flashing in the dim glow.

  The Librarian stood there.

  Still. Unbothered. Watching.

  As if the weapon pointed at him was nothing more than a passing detail.