Liam hadn't moved in hours.
The sun had long set behind the library's stained-glass dome, and the automatic lights buzzed softly above him. Dust motes drifted in golden shafts as the pages of Kael's saga turned beneath his fingertips like they had been waiting for someone to remember.
He was deep into a war council scene involving a goose, three flaming barrels, and a punchline so absurd he laughed out loud. That earned him a glare from Mrs. Helgens, the night librarian.
But Liam couldn't stop. Every page he turned made the air around him heavier, like the room was becoming less 2025 and more... something else. The text was evolving too. The language had subtly shifted from Old High Mesan to something eerily similar to the forgotten dialect he had been researching for years.
"That's not possible," he whispered. He flipped back three pages. The characters were static. But he could understand them now, as if the book was teaching him as he read.
His phone buzzed.
EMMA (archaeology dept):You still ghosting civilization or should I start charging you rent in the library?
He grinned, typed: Found a book. Might be older than language.
A pause.
EMMA:Pics or it didn't rewrite your brain.
Liam lifted his phone to snap a photo—only to find the screen dark. Not black. Dark.
No glow. No reflection. It was like the phone had become a polished piece of stone.
He slowly looked around. The library was... quieter now. Too quiet. No distant hum of the HVAC. No murmurs from other floors. Not even Mrs. Helgens's usual shoe scuff.
He looked back at the book.
The next page was blank. Then, words formed—not ink, but light.
Welcome, reader of names. Your world ends where his begins.
The lights above him flickered. Somewhere far away, thunder rolled.
And Kael's story... was far from over.