"And now we have to leave, no?" Aether asked, pacing a slow circle around Henri. His voice was calm, laced with curiosity. The obsidian short coat he wore shifted with each step, its reinforced leather panels catching faint glints of artificial light.
Henri's gaze tracked him. "Yeah, I suppose," he replied, clipped but not unkind.
Anna and Elara moved silently toward the large central door, their boots echoing faintly on the polished marble floor. Anna's tailored jacket framed her stride with sharp lapels, while Elara's fitted blazer shimmered faintly at the cuffs as she moved with purposeful grace.
Outside, the group emerged onto a vast grassland that stretched endlessly in all directions. The air carried a faint hum, as if the land vibrated with hidden energy. Aether's boots crunched softly over the grass as he turned toward the cliff where the lift doors stood like sentinels.
"And how does this even stay?" Aether asked, breaking the silence, gesturing at the horizon. The steel-gray dress shirt under his coat clung to him, undisturbed by the gentle breeze.
Henri stepped forward, his coat billowing slightly. "The Grand Bibliotheca spans 100 floors," he said, his voice steady.
"Wait—100 floors?" Aether blinked. "A single floor is already this big. How does that even work?"
Henri smiled faintly but didn't answer right away. He looked up at the flawless blue sky—an illusion masking the structure's vastness.
"Alright, everyone, gather up," Henri called, clapping once. His voice left no room for hesitation. "We're going up."
He turned to Aether, lowering his voice. "If her life were at stake... would you give your own to save hers?"
Aether blinked. He looked at Elara, who flushed with outrage.
"Dad, what kind of question is that?!" she snapped, her voice ringing across the field.
Henri said nothing, brushing his hand over the silver watch at his wrist. Aether offered a faint smile, tilting his head to the illusory sky.
"Yeah," he said quietly.
Henri's expression softened. "It needed asking," he murmured, adjusting his coat lapel.
Aether's lips twitched. "You needn't ask again," he muttered, eyes still on the sky.
Before the moment lingered, Henri gestured to the lift. A transparent tube shimmered into view, large enough for them all. Its surface gleamed, reflecting the cliffside and grasslands with uncanny clarity.
They stepped in. The tube sealed with a soft hiss. The ascent was immediate and jarring. Floors blurred past, reduced to streaks of light and color. Aether instinctively shifted his weight, his boots firm against the translucent walls. The dual belts on his tactical pants rattled faintly.
"The Grand Bibliotheca's floors don't exist all at once," Henri said, his voice distorted slightly by the speed. "The space isn't linear—it's conditional. It only manifests as needed, based on our energy. Most of the time, we're just passing through potential."
Aether frowned. "So it's not really a building? More like a... projection?"
"Exactly," Henri nodded. "Built on Rasvian principles—energy turned into tangible space. That's why each floor feels infinite, though it's contained."
The speed surged. The outside became pure motion. Aether clutched a rail, his gloved knuckles pressing into the wall.
"We'll reach faster than expected," Henri added. "Also, fair warning—there might be some Squidi up there. You good with that, Aether?"
Aether straightened. "Always, sir."
As if on cue, the tube's walls turned black. The shift sent a chill through them. No one spoke.
"Alright. We stop here," Henri announced. The tube halted abruptly. Without pause, he jumped into the darkness beyond, vanishing from sight.
Aether hesitated, boots planted firmly. He peered into the void as he followed.
"It's a Rank 4 Veil user... that's what makes this space so powerful," Henri's voice echoed faintly.
"What is?" Aether asked, moving closer.
"This space—it's an illusion. We don't know their exact skill, only speculation." Henri's voice trailed off as a faint light bloomed ahead.
Aether squinted, diving toward the glow. But before he could reach it—
"The lift was better!" Elara shrieked as she and Anna crashed down from above, colliding with him and sending all three tumbling.
Aether groaned, pushing himself up. Anna scrambled to her feet, her flowing skirt brushing his arm. Her boots caught the dim light as she steadied herself.
The group gathered, turning toward the sight before them.
The Grand Bibliotheca towered, radiant and overwhelming. Blue-black Rasvian energy pulsed from its core. Just standing near it felt invigorating.
The interior was vast and circular, with no visible walls—only soaring blue mirrors that stretched upward, shimmering with shifting mercury.
Whispers—smoke-like figures—drifted between the mirrors, their synchronized movements accompanied by faint murmurs.
The floor, polished blue stone, mirrored the glowing walls above, creating the illusion of endless depth. Light seeped from the mirrors themselves, bathing the space in a soft, spectral glow.
Crystalline bridges floated through the air, connecting mirrors at various heights. Hovering platforms carried Mirror Keepers and Whisper Keepers, their translucent forms blending with the reflections.
Henri stepped forward. "Alright, Anna. You said you wanted Aether to see this. Let him understand."
Anna nodded, brushing a strand of hair aside. "Alright," she said, her voice firm.
"Good." Henri turned away, his coat shifting. "I've got some searching to do," he added before disappearing into shimmering air.
Before Aether could question him, three words echoed faintly through the chamber: I love you. The source was unclear.
Anna gestured to a nearby mirror, its surface rippling like liquid glass. It didn't reflect their images—only fragmented scenes and raw emotion.
"There are three types of information here," she said. "And three sources to match."
She stepped closer. Her reflection warped as the whispers grew louder.
"First: the Mirrors of Thought. Get close, and you'll hear fragments—memories, alternate lives. But touch the glass..." Her hand hovered near the surface. "It pulls you in. You experience the mind of someone else—an author or a character."
Aether raised a brow. "You don't just see them?"
Anna shook her head. "You feel them. Their regrets. Fears. Desires. The reflections shift, shaped by your own pain. It forces you to confront truths you may want to ignore."
Elara crossed her arms. "And that's just the beginning."
Anna's voice sharpened. "Second: the Whispering Reflections. The Whispers respond to questions—but never directly. Their answers are hidden within the mirrors, layered and cryptic. If you're careless with your words, they reflect confusion instead of clarity."
"And the third?" Aether asked, voice low.
Anna hesitated. "Some mirrors are cursed. They show forbidden truths, from your memories. Gaze too long, and you lose yourself—your memories vanish in return. Your body stays here, hollow. That's literal. Total memory loss." She glanced at her phone, reading aloud.
Aether's frown deepened. "This place isn't just a library."
"And the most important part," Anna said, barely above a whisper. "The mirrors work on equivalent exchange. Knowledge costs memories. A simple fact might cost what you ate for breakfast. Deeper truths—" she met Aether's eyes, "—like how to save someone from a specific disease that appeared once a century ago, or glimpse a restricted past, could cost your most precious memory."
She turned to the group. "The mirrors don't steal. They trade. Your experiences become accessible to others. You're both reader and book. The more you ask, the more you must give. And once given, the memory is gone—transformed into someone else's lesson."
She gestured to an ornate mirror. "See that one? Some scholars gave up everything. Every insight, every skill, every joy. They believed their knowledge was more valuable here than in their minds."
Elara spoke softly. "Some gave so much they forgot their names. Now they wander the halls, empty vessels."
"This is beyond wrong," Aether whispered. His voice barely cut through the growing hush around them.