The Magyo Library was famous—its fame stemmed from the simple fact that it was the largest known library in history, holding more knowledge than one could imagine. Whether history, politics, mathematical studies, magical studies, or anything else, it had it all.

  Finn knew a little about the library, but not enough to confidently answer questions about it. He knew it was encased in a spatial barrier constructed by ancient mages, separating it from the world itself and making it accessible only through doors linked to the dimension in which it resided. He also knew that one could enter the library from almost anywhere in the world—granted they had authorized access and a linked door, of course.

  Because of the library’s secretive nature, Finn had no idea what the inside looked like. And that only made him more excited.

  His heart raced with anticipation as he followed the many signs lining the streets, each one guiding him toward the famous library entrance.

  As he drew closer to his destination, the crowd thickened.

  Noticing the sudden density, Finn stretched his neck and stood on his tiptoes. In the distance past the thick crowd, he could make out a small wooden shack with a sign hanging above it, labelling it as the "Magyo Library."

  As Finn had expected, a long queue had already formed at the entrance of the shack—or rather the famed library.

  I guess it really lives up to its fame, he thought with a small smile, scratching his head and letting out a heavy sigh.

  He was going to be queuing for a while.

  ***

  About forty minutes passed, and Finn finally arrived at the entrance.

  Up close, the wooden shack looked even less impressive than he had expected. Weathered planks made up its walls, and the small window beside the entrance was clouded with dust. If not for the steady stream of people disappearing inside, he might have mistaken it for an abandoned storage shed rather than the gateway to the most famous library in history.

  Finn chuckled at the thought, a wide grin creeping onto his face. He was finally about to enter the Magyo Library! A place as legendary as anything could be—and he, a random commoner, was about to step foot inside.

  His grin widened as he nodded to himself.

  I can't stall the queue any longer, can I?

  Stepping forward toward the door, Finn’s heart pounded with excitement. The moment his foot crossed the door's threshold, a wave of mana surged through him.

  It was like stepping through a veil of liquid energy. The magic washed over his skin, tingling like a cool breeze on a hot day, yet pressing into him as though assessing his very existence. His vision blurred momentarily as the mana tendrils coiled around him, threading through his muscles, his bones—his very soul.

  A strange pressure settled over his body, not painful, but deeply invasive. For a brief moment, he felt laid bare, as though the library itself was peeling away the layers of his being, reading every inch of him like an open book. His breath hitched. Was it checking his identity? His intent? Or something different entirely?

  Then, something changed. The foreign sensation barely had time to settle before something far more insidious took hold. It was as though an inky void was swallowing his mind, consuming each thought and feeling.

  Finn’s breath hitched the moment the darkness took hold.

  The world around him twisted. The warm, blurry golden glow of the library’s entrance flickered and died, swallowed by a suffocating blackness. The wooden floor beneath his feet warped and vanished, leaving him weightless, adrift in an abyss.

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  A chill seeped into his bones, deeper than mere cold—it was as if something else was pressing against him, a presence vast and unknowable. The mana that had once gently washed over him now constricted, twisting through his body like unseen chains.

  His pulse hammered in his ears. He tried to move, but his limbs felt sluggish, disconnected from his will. Panic clawed at his chest.

  Then came the whispers.

  Soft at first, like wind rustling through pages, but growing louder, layered, overlapping—words in a hundred voices, in a hundred tongues, all speaking at once. Some he almost understood, others felt like they were meant to be understood but slipped from his grasp the moment he tried to focus.

  The voices, which could only be described as haunting, swirled around him, pressing against his mind. Reading him. Judging him. Accusing him.

  Finn tried to fight the voices, to ignore them, but nothing worked. It was as though the whispers were speaking from inside his very mind.

  And then—

  Something changed.

  A sharp pull, like invisible hands dragging him down.

  This isn't normal! What is happening? Am I dying?! What the hell?!

  The darkness churned, shifting, unravelling into something else. Images bled into the void—shapes taking form in the distance, growing sharper, closer, more vivid.

  Finn barely had a moment to register what was happening before he was no longer falling. No longer weightless.

  His sense of smell was the first to return—the crisp scent of fresh air filling his nostrils. Then followed his touch, hearing, taste, then sight.

  He was... somewhere. Somewhere familiar.

  What? Finn thought, stunned. His feet were now planted on solid ground, but that wasn't the issue. Where he was standing was the issue.

  The dark cobblestone. The familiar path. The towering gates before him. The long queue of people behind him...

  This is totally the entrance to the academy, right?! Right?!

  Finn was about to scream in outrage, but he couldn't. He couldn't speak. He couldn't move.

  He felt like a prisoner in his own body, unable to do anything. Until, his body began to move, unaffected by Finn as all he could do was watch in horror.

  His body was moving by itself as a large smile crept on his face.

  Finn wanted to fight it, to claw his way back to control, but no matter how hard he tried, his body refused to obey him. His muscles moved on their own, his breaths steady, his heart unburdened.

  And then he realized—he wasn’t struggling. There was no pain, no visions clawing at his mind, no sense of wrongness gnawing at his soul.

  Instead, excitement bubbled within him, raw and untainted.

  A laugh—his own—escaped his lips.

  “Finally! I’m finally here!” he heard himself say.

  Finn’s stomach twisted. What…?

  His body stepped forward, moving down the familiar path toward the grand gates of the academy. He recognized this moment. This was the day he arrived at the academy, but something was different—he was different.

  He wasn’t overwhelmed. He wasn’t questioning his reality. He wasn’t haunted by something lurking in the corners of his mind.

  This version of himself was just… happy.

  Finn wanted to take control, to thrash against the invisible chains holding him, but all he could do was watch as his past self strode forward with confidence, eyes alight with wonder.

  A student ahead of him glanced back. “Excited, huh?” the boy chuckled.

  His own voice responded, “You have no idea!"

  The warmth in his tone unsettled Finn. It was genuine. He wasn't burdened by the feeling of inferiority or the hallucinations.

  Finn was sure of one thing—this wasn’t just a memory. It was something more.

  But before he could process it, the scene around him flickered—like ink dripping into water, reality twisting, unravelling.

  And then—

  Darkness.

  And a voice.

  Low, echoing, familiar. It seeped into his mind, curling around his thoughts like tendrils of smoke.

  "This is how it should have been."

  Finn’s breath caught. The words weren’t spoken in any language he recognized, yet he understood them perfectly.

  A pressure settled on his chest, heavy and suffocating as if something unseen was staring straight through him.

  "Changed it. We fought it. We. You changed fa-."

  The darkness surged, cutting the voice short. Finn felt himself being wrenched backwards, the world unravelling once more.

  His stomach lurched. His vision blurred.

  And then—

  He gasped, his body snapping upright, heart pounding in his chest.

  His own body. He was back in his body.

  But something was wrong.

  His fingers trembled as he pressed them against his forehead, trying to steady his breath.

  The voice. The words. The memory that wasn’t a memory.

  It wasn’t just a vision. It wasn’t just a dream.

  It was a glimpse into something else.

  Something that should have been.

  And something that should not exist.

  Finn swallowed hard, forcing himself to his feet, but the unease clung to him like a phantom’s grip.

  What the hell had just happened to him?