The heavy wooden door creaks open, revealing a dim chamber carved into the stone beneath the church. The air smells of aged paper, dust, and something ancient—something alive in the quiet.
Shelves line the walls from floor to ceiling, overflowing with countless tomes and scrolls. Faint candlelight flickers, casting dancing shadows that weave between stacks of books and forgotten relics. The room feels like a sanctuary of forgotten time, a place untouched by the chaos above.
At a desk cluttered with manuscripts sits an old man, his silver hair resting lightly on his shoulders. His eyes are sharp, reflecting the knowledge of ages past. This is Gerson.
He looks up slowly as you enter, a knowing smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
“Ah… so you’ve come at last,” he says in a soft voice, both welcoming and heavy with meaning.
He leans back, and suddenly, his face breaks into that familiar, deep chuckle:
“Gyah gyah gyah! Gyah gyah gyah!”
The laugh echoes around the library, warm yet tinged with mystery—a sound that carries stories of countless lifetimes.
“Few seek the truth buried beneath the surface of this world,” he continues, his fingers tracing the spine of a thick, worn book bound in blue leather, embossed with the Delta Rune. “These volumes hold the history of timelines—paths taken, paths lost, and the ripple of every choice made by heroes and monsters alike.”
He opens the book carefully, the pages glowing faintly as symbols shift and dance across the paper. “This is no ordinary record. It tracks the flow of fate itself, the ever-changing tapestry of light and dark intertwined.”
The library is filled with relics—shattered weapons, worn masks, faded banners—all silent witnesses to battles and peace long past. Their stories linger in the air, waiting to be told.
Gerson’s eyes meet yours, steady and earnest.
“The Dark World... it is a place where secrets are kept, and where history is never truly lost. Some fear it; some embrace it. But here, in this library, knowledge lives beyond fear.”
He chuckles once more, the familiar laugh filling the quiet again:
“Gyah gyah gyah! Gyah gyah gyah!”
“Remember,” he says softly, closing the tome, “knowledge is a double-edged sword. It can guide you… or it can bind you to paths not your own.”
As you stand surrounded by the whispers of the past and the glow of flickering candlelight, the weight of his words settles over you like the very stone walls around you.
Gerson returns to his reading, the room falling silent once again, holding its secrets patiently, awaiting the next visitor brave enough to learn them