The gate swallowed them whole.
One step across the parchment arch, and the world dissolved into script. Words blurred, runes stretched, and reality itself folded like paper. When Elias's boots struck solid ground again, the air smelled of ink and dust.
They stood inside a library without end.
Shelves rose like mountains, stacked with tomes the size of carriages. Stairs spiraled into darkness. Bridges of paper crisscrossed above them, vanishing into mist. The ceiling was not stone but an endless night sky, ink dripping like rain into the abyss below.
The Hidden Library Dungeon.
Even hardened hunters fell silent, their bravado crushed by the sheer weight of it.
Caleb's mouth hung open, eyes wide behind cracked spectacles. "By the stars… this is it. This is where they write."
Lyra tightened her grip on her staff, violet eyes scanning the shadows. "Or where they keep what they don't want us to read."
The Spirewatch Master stepped forward, his voice sharp. "Form ranks. Spread in wings. We cannot afford disorder."
"Don't tell me what to do," Hale growled, Crimson Fang elites fanning behind him. His eyes, though narrowed at Elias, betrayed hesitation.
Seraphine Kael's golden hair shimmered unnaturally as she raised her hand, her smile bright as ever. "Enough. The Authors wanted us here. Let's not keep them waiting."
Hunters began to march. Boots echoed like thunder in the endless halls.
---
The First Trap
The first attack came without warning.
A shelf trembled. Books fell, slamming onto the marble with deafening force. But when they burst open, it was not parchment inside — it was teeth. Rows upon rows, gnashing and snapping. The tomes sprouted legs like spiders, leaping at the hunters.
"Living grimoires!" someone shouted.
Steel clashed as Crimson Fangs hacked them apart. Spirewatch mages unleashed barriers, sealing others mid-leap. Elysian Dawn lit the halls with streaks of golden flame.
Elias raised a page.
> [Manifestation: Chain Lightning]
Sparks leapt from his orbiting script, arcing across half a dozen tomes, frying them into ash. Pages scattered in the air, burning before they touched the ground.
Lyra stepped close, her staff glowing violet as she struck down another swarm. She glanced at Elias. "You're not even breaking a sweat."
"I've read worse openings," he murmured.
But Caleb—Caleb wasn't fighting. He crouched low, scanning the creatures' runes, his hands sketching furiously on parchment.
"Not random," he muttered. "Each grimoire… it corresponds to a volume lost in our world. They're censored texts. These things are guard dogs — reborn books, stripped of meaning and made into predators."
Elias's glasses glinted. "You're saying the dungeon attacks us with the knowledge it forbids."
Caleb looked up, his voice sharp despite his fear. "Which means if we destroy enough of them, the Authors lose their lock on what was erased."
Lyra blinked, stunned. "You can tell that just from looking?"
Caleb smirked nervously. "I told you. Scholar. Outcast. Madman. But I wasn't wrong."
Elias gave a small nod, a rare flicker of respect. "Then stay alive, Caleb. You're more useful than most of them."
Caleb's chest tightened at the words. He wasn't a fighter. He'd never be a hunter. But for the first time, he wasn't a burden.
---
Shifting Floors
As the grimoires fell, the library shifted. Shelves bent sideways, staircases twisted, floors rolled like pages being turned. Hunters stumbled as entire halls rotated, sending squads sprawling.
The dungeon was alive.
"Formations breaking!" a Spirewatch mage shouted.
"Hold your lines!" Hale bellowed, though his own men struggled to regroup.
Seraphine only laughed, her golden fire carving through monsters with elegance. "It's a story. Did you really think the Authors would let us read in silence?"
Elias remained calm. His Codex fluttered, flipping on its own.
> [New Page Recorded: Shifting Floor]
[Annotation Available: Shifting Floor + March of Chains → Reader's Step.]
He stepped onto the rolling shelves — and his footing adjusted perfectly, as though the ground had become still. Pages extended from his Codex, weaving beneath his boots like bridges of light.
Lyra gaped. "You're walking on… script."
"Not script," Elias said softly. "Correction."
He reached back, extending a page to Caleb, who had been stumbling on the shifting ground. The scholar gasped as it steadied his footing.
"Keep up," Elias said.
For Caleb, those words weren't a command. They were an invitation.
---
Rising Stakes
Hours passed inside the infinite library. The hunters carved their way through endless waves — living grimoires, phantom scribes with quill-spears, ink-beasts spilling from torn volumes. The guilds strained, every squad tested.
And always, Elias pressed forward, his Codex orbiting silently, pages flashing with every clash. He didn't lead the alliance. He didn't need to. His presence was enough — a constant reminder that their strength was borrowed, but his was inevitable.
Lyra stayed close, her violet spells weaving alongside his pages. Caleb trailed behind, recording frantically, muttering to himself with every new discovery.
"This place isn't just a dungeon," he whispered. "It's the index. Every erased truth catalogued, locked away. The Authors don't destroy knowledge. They hide it. And they've been doing it for centuries."
Elias adjusted his broken glasses, eyes narrowing. "Then I'll read it all."
---
The Deeper Halls
Eventually, the shifting paths converged. The shelves rose higher, narrowing into a single colossal hall. At its end loomed a gate of black parchment, sealed with chains of glowing script.
The Codex pulsed at Elias's side.
> [Objective Updated.]
Enter the Hall of Drafts.
Warning: Editor presence confirmed.
Seraphine's smile sharpened. "Looks like we've reached the prologue."
Hale's jaw tightened. "Whatever's in there… it isn't meant for us."
Elias's hand brushed the Codex, calm and steady. His voice was quiet, but it carried through the hall.
"Then let's see what they didn't want us to read."
The chains shattered.
And the next page of the Hidden Library opened.