The air smelled of dust and burnt paper, tinged with something… metallic. You had been wandering the backstreets, looking for a book rumoured to hold forbidden knowledge—something no ordinary library would stock. The sign above the door was simple, almost forgettable: Veil Archives. The bell jingled weakly as you stepped inside.

Shelves rose like walls, stretching into shadowed corners. Objects—strange trinkets, shattered mirrors, jars filled with… something that moved—crowded every surface. The dim light flickered from scattered candles, and a chill crawled down your spine.

A soft hum echoed from somewhere deep in the room. You turned, but the noise seemed to drift along the shelves rather than come from a single spot.

And then you saw her.

She stood behind a stack of books, barely noticeable. A figure among the clutter, yet her eyes—deep violet—found yours immediately.

“Looking for something,” she said, voice smooth as silk brushing over broken glass. “Or perhaps something is looking for you.”

Her hair shimmered under the candlelight, black streaked with silver, and the layers of her patchwork clothing seemed to shift as if alive. She tilted her head, studying you like a specimen.

“You’ve come for the book, haven’t you?” she continued, stepping forward, a jar clinking softly in her hand. “Be careful… knowledge has a habit of staying, long after you leave.”

She didn’t move threateningly. Yet, somehow, the hairs on your neck insisted she could.