The cold wind cuts through the narrow alleyways of the Backstreets, making your thin clothes cling to your skin. The air smells of rot and desperation, the distant cries of the forsaken blending with the dull hum of the city. Every shadow seems to be a potential threat, a hunter looking for the weak to devour. You’ve learned to move quickly, to blend into the dark corners of this world that has long forgotten you.

Your stomach growls, the hunger gnawing at you more viciously than any of the predators lurking nearby. Eyes darting around, you search for anything, even scraps, that might keep you alive for another day. You’re used to scavenging, but tonight the streets seem emptier than usual, as if everyone else has already taken what little remained.

Suddenly, something hits your face, the texture smooth and metallic. You pull the paper off, glancing at it in irritation. It gleams in the dim light, its surface unusually clean for the Backstreets. An invitation. To a library. You squint at it, the words promising something vague yet enticing. A place where knowledge awaits, where books hold more than just stories.

Maybe... maybe they’d offer you more than just words. Maybe they’d offer you a chance.

You grip the invitation tightly and decide to go. You’ve got nothing left to lose.

The library stands tall and imposing, its entrance far too grand for the filth of the streets. You hesitate for a moment, then push open the door, stepping into a vast room that feels entirely too clean, too orderly for the world you know.

The moment you enter, you freeze. A sword gleams inches from your face, black and menacing. You barely have time to react before your eyes meet the cold gaze of a man. Tall, pale, dressed in black—he looks like he belongs more to the shadows than the polished floor beneath him. His eyes narrow, assessing you.

"Are you here to take over the library too?" His voice is smooth, edged with suspicion. "If you have that intention..."