Lucian barely had time to catch his breath after fleeing a monstrous horror before finding himself thrown into a place that defied all he knew. In the middle of this surreal space stood a mysterious woman who introduced herself as the servant of Fate.

  “Wait, wait, wait, hold on a minute,” Lucian blurted out, the confusion evident as his mind raced to grasp what was happening. He tried to piece together the fragments of his memory, from the moment he’d stepped into Philip’s house up to now, but nothing made sense.

  “Am I missing something?” he wondered aloud. As his thoughts wandered back, images of waking up in the hospital, meeting a kind doctor, and seeing Daniel before heading home flickered in his mind. And then it all came rushing back, the invitation he’d found on his desk.

  “The invitation…” he murmured, reaching into his pocket only to find that it had vanished without a trace.

  The woman, Elena, gave a subtle nod. “Yes, it was an invitation sent out by Fate herself, a welcome for those fortunate enough to be chosen. It’s the gateway that brought you here,” she explained calmly. With a graceful motion, she raised her hand into the empty air. In response, a swirling gray fog began to coalesce above her palm, gradually forming a single, luminous word, ‘Kether’. Lucian stared in awe at the magical display.

  “H-how did you do that?” he stammered, caught between wonder and trepidation. Elena said nothing at first; instead, she gently pushed the glowing word towards him. The enchanted word sailed through the air, imbued with an otherworldly energy, and then, as if by magic, it dissolved into Lucian.

  “With that,” Elena continued, her eyes locking with his, “you are now officially a member of the Library of Fate, Mister Lucian. The title you’ve been granted, ‘Kether’, will be a part of your identity from now on.”

  “Wait, what?” Lucian demanded, his eyes wide with confusion. His head was already spinning from the day’s relentless twists, and he certainly wasn’t ready for another blow. “Please, at least tell me, what’s going on here with this invitation and…this library?”

  Before he could finish, a nearby door swung open with a creak. A red-haired girl, appearing even younger than Vincent, strode through. Her presence was immediately striking: she wore a fitted dark blue blazer with black buttons and a school emblem embroidered on the left chest pocket. The structured shoulders and tailored fit lent her an undeniably sleek, formal air.

  Beneath the blazer, a crisp white shirt provided a sharp contrast, accented by a neatly tied black bow. A pleated gray skirt complemented the ensemble, adding a traditionally youthful touch, while black tights and polished shoes completed her look. Her hair was styled into twin tails, secured neatly with a black ribbon, framing a frowning face that radiated irritation. On her left shoulder hung a bag that clearly resembled a school bag.

  Her features twisted into a scowl as she bellowed, “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS PLACE!?”

  Without waiting for an answer, she stormed out from the door and advanced toward Elena, her body tense and guard up. “You, tell me how to exit this place right now! I’ve had enough of this nonsense already. Every door leads back here, I need to get out, right now!”

  Elena held her composure and fixed the angry guest with a calm, measured look. “Please, remain calm, honorable guest. I’ve told you before, once all the members have been introduced and I explain why you are here, you may leave.”

  “Honorable guest my ass!” the red-haired girl snapped, crossing her arms. “You expect me to feel honored for being dragged to a place where I have no idea what’s going on? This is no different from kidnapping!”

  Elena let out a soft sigh. “I assure you, dear guest, you are free to leave once everyone here has been introduced and I have clarified everything you need to know.”

  “Do you even listen to me?” the girl fired back, clearly at the end of her rope. Swinging her gaze over to Lucian, she added, “And you, you look so calm about this mess. Shouldn’t you be scrambling for an escape, too?”

  Lucian’s confusion deepened as he struggled to process the barrage of information. “Uh, well… maybe if we wait a little longer, Elena might show us the way out,” he offered hesitantly.

  The red-haired girl exploded in disbelief. “What? Are you kidding me? Don’t you find any of this suspicious at all?” She jabbed a finger in Elena’s direction as she continued, “Do you really expect that she’ll let us out of this place without some hidden motive?”

  Elena interjected softly, “Actually, this place is called the Library of Fate, I believe I introduced it to you earlier.”

  The girl narrowed her eyes in pure annoyance. “I don’t care what you call it. My point is, there’s clearly a reason we’re all here, whatever that reason may be, and I’m not about to just stand by. You seriously expect us to trust that she’ll let us go without any ulterior motive?”

  Trying to diffuse the tension, Lucian spoke as calmly as he could, “Look, I understand you’re worried, but nothing bad has happened so far. Elena’s been nothing but respectful. I’m sure she means us no harm, and besides, I don’t think she’s completely in control of the situation herself. Isn’t she supposed to be the servant of Fate? Perhaps it’s Fate Himself who brought us here, not her.”

  For some reason, Lucian felt compelled to defend Elena, maybe because, after narrowly escaping death, her calm had helped ease his own turmoil.

  The red-haired girl couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What the hell? Why are you defending a stranger you barely know? For all we know, she could be lying, secretly working for those Eternity-worshipping bastards.” She scoffed, leaning in as if to emphasize every word. “This whole setup might be their scheme to climb further up the Ascension Tree!”

  Lucian’s mind reeled. “Eternity worship? Ascension Tree? What is even happening?” The more she spoke, the more he missed the familiar, if not entirely pleasant, reassurance of Vincent’s gruff presence. At least Vincent’s mean looks never tried to make his head explode.

  Finally, Lucian signed and said , “Alright, I get it. If you want to get out of this place that badly, then fine, I’ll help you.” Even though Lucian felt grateful that the Library of Fate had saved him from disaster, he also had unfinished business waiting out there. So, sooner or later, he knew he would have to find a way out.

  “Dear honorable guests, I can see that you two get along quite well,” Elena said with a warm, yet enigmatic smile.

  “How can you call this getting along?” snapped the red-haired girl, her tone edged with irritation.

  Elena cleared her throat and lowered her voice to a gentle cadence. “Since most of you seem eager to leave, I will fast-forward my explanation. Is that alright with you, ‘Hokhmah’?” She glanced toward a far corner of the room. There, leaning nonchalantly against a shelf and poring over an ancient book, stood a young man. Lucian hadn’t noticed him until Elena pointed him out. From that distance, every detail of his appearance was blurred, as if his features were meant to fade into obscurity, leaving only an impression of mystery.

  A voice, cool and detached, answered from the shadows: “Fine by me.” The tone belonged unmistakably to the figure Elena had just invoked as “Hokhmah.” Elena nodded approvingly, then continued, “Very well, I will explain the benefits of being a guest here at the Library.”

  With a graceful sweep of both her hands, Elena summoned the signature gray fog once more. This time, it swirled like enchanted mist before their eyes, coalescing into intricately shifting images and glowing words. “The Library of Fate,” she began, her voice imbued with quiet authority,

  “is a dimension created by Fate Himself before humanity even existed on Earth. This library holds the fate of everything. the records of what has happened, what is happening, and what will come.”

  Her fingers moved elegantly through the luminous vapor. “As a guest of the Library, each of you has been bestowed a title. This title now forms part of your identity, whether you choose to employ it or not. There are ten ranks within the Library, the higher your rank, the more information you are permitted to access and the greater the benefits you receive. To ascend these ranks, you must earn credit by completing tasks personally ordained by Fate. The tougher the task, the more credit you will earn. Additionally, you can use credit to unlock information that exceeds your current rank’s limits.”

  As the magical gray fog dissipate into thin air, Elena pressed on, “At this moment, all of you are at rank 9, the lowest rank. You currently have no additional information to access. Other than coming here to confirm that your assigned tasks have been completed, you may only enter this place once per day. After that, you must wait twenty-four hours before you can step through these doors again. That is all. Any questions?”

  The red-haired girl said nothing, her expression one of utter disinterest, as if all she craved was for this ordeal to be over and for her to finally go home. But Lucian seized the moment, driven by the possibility of unlocking more of his past, if Elena’s words held any truth.

  “Um, yes, how may we return to this library? You said we can return here once a day, right?”

  The girl sneered, her tone dripping with disdain. “Do you really want to return to this place? Aren’t you afraid they’ll use you for their own gain? I mean, how can you trust something like this so easily? Fate has been inactive for at least a thousand years, how can you trust this whole setup so easily?”

  Lucian’s mind raced with the notion. “Fate has been inactive for a thousand years?” he thought, before replying resolutely, “Well, perhaps, but I want to know more. If you don’t want to come here, that’s fine, but this is my decision. I want to find the truth.”

  The red-haired girl sighed and shook her head, remaining silent once more. Elena nodded gracefully and addressed Lucian in a calm, measured tone, “If you wish to know ‘Kether’ listen carefully. When you want to enter this place again, move to a spot where there aren’t other people. Find any door, place your hand on its handle, and speak the following words.”

  She paused for a heartbeat, then intoned with an almost musical cadence,

  “I walk the path laid by the unseen hand. Threads of destiny, gather and part. I seek entrance to the halls where destiny sleeps.”

  Looking directly at Lucian, Elena asked, “Understand?”

  Lucian nodded, his eyes steady as he replied, “Yes, I understand. Thank you.”

  “Very well, that is all for today. Since each of you has rather important ordeals to attend to, I will await your return, now our first meeting, end here.”

  At these words, Elena extended her hands once more. This time, the gray fog responded to her call with a breathtaking display of magic. It poured forth like liquid silver from her fingertips, swirling and shimmering as it rapidly consumed the space around them. In what felt like the blink of an eye, the entire library, perhaps even formed by this very enchantment, was engulfed in the mystical mist.

  “Hey, what is this?” the red-haired girl exclaimed, startled by the sudden transformation of her surroundings. Lucian, equally dumbfounded, found his hand twitching in a futile attempt to make sense of the rapid change.

  Before any further words could be exchanged, Elena tilted her head slightly and brought a single finger to her lips. Her voice softened to a conspiratorial murmur as she said, “Before you go, dear, honorable guest, please don’t speak of everything that happens in this place to others. It simply won’t work.”

  With that enigmatic warning, the magical fog surged forward, swiftly blanketing Lucian’s vision. He instinctively raised his hand to shield his eyes and closed them tightly. After what seemed both like an eternity and an instant, the fog receded. Lucian slowly opened his eyes, and found himself standing in a dark, unfamiliar alley.

  “Where am I this time?” he murmured, the eerie echoes of the Library of Fate still lingering in his mind.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Lucian scanned the darkened alley until he spotted an opening. Stepping out into the light, he was met by a cluster of police guarding a pile of rubble. His eyes widened with sudden recognition: Sheriff, Jacob, Vincent, and Sofia were gathered around, deep in whispered conversation.

  “This is the same location I came before… and that thing,” he murmured, his gaze shifting to the shattered remains. “It’s Philip’s house. How did this happen? What did I miss?” For a moment, he tried to piece together his fading memories, but then he shook his head dismissively. “No, that’s a waste of time. I need to ask them,” he muttered, breaking into a run.

  As he drew near, Lucian noted details that hadn’t been there before, a green and white ambulance parked with an unfamiliar emblem, and several reporters packing up their cameras and equipment as if the spectacle was over. But that was not his immediate concern.

  Vincent had been chatting amicably with Jacob and the Sheriff, his friendly smile lighting up the scene. Yet the moment Vincent caught sight of Lucian barreling toward them, his smile froze and faded, replaced by a glance of alarm. The tension in Vincent’s face was unmistakable, as if recognizing that something was drastically off.

  Sheriff, ever the steady presence, followed Vincent’s look and saw Lucian sprinting toward the group. Relief briefly softened his features, his silent smile was a reassurance that Lucian was still here, safe despite his strange behavior. In that fleeting moment, the Sheriff resolved to find out what had really happened to his old friend the moment time allowed.

  Each face had a story, and now Lucian’s return kindled a whirlwind of unspoken questions as the group braced themselves for explanations that might bridge past secrets and the harsh reality before them.

  Lucian quickened his pace toward the group until he was almost upon them. He slowed and tried to start, “Hey, how it–” Before he could finish, Vincent stepped forward, his tone sharp and unyielding, “Where were you?”

  Lucian hesitated, surprised by the abruptness. “Oh… uh…” He cleared his throat as he gathered himself. “So, I was running down to the basement, I wanted to check on the culprit who was hiding down there.”

  “Then what?” Vincent interrupted, eyes narrowing. “You got attacked by some huge, wolf-like creature? And somehow managed to escape?”

  Lucian nodded, trying to recall the chaotic events. “Yes, that’s right. It was chasing me up the stairs, then…” His voice trailed off as if an invisible force clutched his tongue. Every time he attempted to mention the Library of Fate, the very detail that could explain his sudden disappearance, the words stuck. His mouth opened and closed in silent frustration, leaving nothing but awkward pauses in the heavy air.

  Vincent’s sneer deepened into a scowl. “What do you take me for, Lucian? Some kind of idiot? You think I didn’t see what happened? I was there when that hellhound burst out of the basement and smashed the door into pieces, and I saw the culprit running away! But I for sure didn’t see you anywhere near the chaos.”

  Lucian’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Wait, so the culprit got away?” he asked, genuine surprise tingling his voice. Yet Vincent’s expression hardened into fury.

  “Spare me the act, Lucian. You’re acting as if this is the first time you’ve heard all this. Do you really think you can just watch everything unfold and then come back here claiming you knew it all along? We aren’t buying that obvious lie!”

  Inside, Lucian battled a silent storm. Each attempt to mention the Library of Fate, his one chance to explain the inexplicable gap in his memory, dissolved into nothing.

  His most critical piece of evidence, the ticket to proving his innocence, was locked away behind an impenetrable wall of silence. He felt the weight of their judging eyes, Vincent’s, Sheriff’s, and even Jacob’s, pinning him down, rendering him utterly defenseless.

  Sensing the rising tension, Sheriff cut in before things escalated further. “Alright, Vincent, that’s enough. You’ve made your point for today. Let’s wrap this up and call it a night.”

  Vincent’s gaze flicked to Sheriff, and he snapped, “With all due respect, Sheriff, how long are you going to keep defending Lucian? Do you really believe he did nothing wrong? Shouldn’t I have the right to scold him for failing as a detective?”

  Sheriff’s voice remained measured but firm. “I've said enough. Yes, Lucian isn’t at his best right now, but he isn’t usually like this. We can’t simply decide if he’s a good or bad detective on a single day. That’s something he’ll have to prove for himself.” He then turned his gaze directly to Lucian. “If he can show that he’s still the capable detective he once was, then I’ll act accordingly.”

  Vincent ground his teeth, his jaw clenching as he turned away. “Fine. We’ll see.” Over his shoulder, hauling a disappointed glare in Lucian’s direction, he added, “Sofia, we’re going home.” Sofia offered a brief nod as she walked alongside Vincent toward their car.

  Lucian stood rooted to the spot, watching Vincent’s departing back. The young man’s harsh words struck him harder than he’d expected. A strange, heavy feeling swelled within his chest, a mix of loss, defeat, and deep frustration.

  In that charged moment, every unspoken word, every locked memory, and every ounce of self-doubt churned inside him. He was lost, not just in the physical maze of alleys and rubble, but in the labyrinth of his own mind, desperate for a way to reclaim the truth that now felt so far out of reach.

  Lucian's hand remained clenched into a tight fist at his side, his knuckles stark white. In that moment, he felt as if tears were about to spill, so many conflicting thoughts and images flooded his mind. Events, people, and places collided too quickly for him to process, leaving him feeling utterly isolated.

  He felt as if no one understood him, as if no one was willing to stand by his side. It might sound pathetic. or even wrong, but that was exactly what Lucian felt. He was like a child wandering through a world of adults, scrambling to make sense of things he couldn’t yet grasp. He felt profoundly lost.

  Then, a large, gentle hand landed on his shoulder. Sheriff stood there, his expression soft with sympathy. In a calm, reassuring tone he said,

  “You should go home, son. Get some well rest and try to sort your life out. If you need something, talk to Dr. Chen, he’ll help you out. And maybe, if I have time, we can even go out for a drink. What do you say?”

  Lucian looked up at the Sheriff, his mind still muddled. He couldn’t fully piece together what the Sheriff was saying. Dr. Chen? Perhaps it was the same doctor who had greeted him when he woke up, but right now, Lucian wasn’t ready in the mood to connect those dots. Despite his confusion, the kindness in the Sheriff’s tone gave him a small measure of comfort.

  “Thank you, Sheriff,” Lucian managed to say quietly.

  The Sheriff offered a warm smile and patted Lucian’s shoulder a few more times. “Take care, son.”

  With that, Sheriff turned and walked away with Jacob toward the other officers, leaving Lucian alone with his tangled thoughts and the echo of care that, for a moment, made him feel less alone.

  Daniel was behind the wheel, his eyes glued to his phone as the news blared about an sudden attack of an Apocalypse’s followers summon and Hellhound along with the infighting of The Embermark Syndicate

  “Hmm thing getting quite tense huh?”

  His thoughts were interrupted by a firm knock on the window. Peering out, he saw Lucian standing there. With a friendly smile, Daniel rolled the window down.

  "Ah, Mister Lucian, how did the investigation go? I heard there was a hellhound at that house, it’s great to see you still in one piece."

  Lucian managed only a bitter smile before speaking in a low tone.

  "Just take me home, Daniel."

  Without hesitation, Daniel swung open the car's rear door so Lucian could climb in. Soon enough, the car merged into traffic toward District 10. As they drove, Daniel stole a glance in the rearview mirror. Lucian’s tired and lost gaze spoke volumes as he stared blankly an unspoken echo of Vincent's harsh words

  a failure as a detective.

  Breaking the silence, Daniel asked softly, "Is something bothering you, detective?"

  Lucian, his eyes never leaving the dark road ahead, replied coolly,

  "What makes you say that?"

  Daniel shrugged and grinned gently. "Who knows? Maybe it’s the weather, or maybe it’s the case I just saw on the news. But something’s written all over your face, and I’m not quite sure whether it’s trouble or sorrow, or maybe both."

  A faint chuckle escaped Lucian as he shook his head."What are you, some kind of mind reader?"

  Daniel's eyes twinkled in the reflection of the rearview mirror. "I wouldn’t claim to read minds exactly, but I’ve spent enough time as a taxi driver to learn a thing or two about people. Every person has a story, some tragic, some joyful, most somewhere in the middle. In life, we can’t control whether a day turns out good or bad, but there’s one thing we can control."

  Lucian straightened up in his seat, leaning in slightly as he listened.

  "And that is?"

  Daniel glanced into the mirror at Lucian, then back at the road, his tone soft yet earnest. "We can control how those happenings affect us. Maybe our destiny isn’t in our control, but our reaction to it is. I believe that while we often chase after what we think will make us happy, real happiness isn’t handed to us, it’s something we have to work for. If you trip and fall, don’t be sad you got hurt; be thankful you learned something. That way, you make sure you never fall in the same way again."

  Lucian absorbed Daniel’s words, a slow calm replacing the turbulent emotions swirling inside him. "Perhaps you’re right, Daniel. Thank you for your words."

  Daniel offered a warm chuckle, "The pleasure’s all mine, Mister Lucian."

  Soon, the car pulled up in front of Lucian’s apartment. As he stepped out, Lucian paused and looked back at Daniel. "I’m really glad I met you, Daniel. If I could, I’d give your service a 10/10 rating."

  Daniel laughed lightly as he opened the door. "Oh, it’s nothing, Mister Lucian. Oh—by the way, your total fare comes to about 24.99 dollars."

  Lucian glanced at Daniel and asked, “Twenty-four ninety-nine dollars?”

  Daniel nodded with a friendly smirk. “Yes. You’re not saying it’s too expensive, are you? I think the fare is quite fair.”

  Meanwhile, in Lucian’s mind there was a rush of confusion: “What the hell is a dollar?” His heart began to pound and he felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple. He desperately wanted to ask the question aloud, but the thought of embarrassing himself held him back. He frantically patted his pockets, searching for any sign of this elusive “dollar”, but aside from two sheets of paper, there was nothing.

  Noticing Lucian’s increasing panic as he fumbled with his pockets, Daniel couldn’t help but chuckle and say, “Mister Lucian, did you forget your wallet?”

  Lucian looked back at Daniel, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head as he admitted, “Yeah, I think so…” He wasn’t sure what else to say, hoping desperately to wriggle out of the awkward situation.

  Leaning forward a bit, Daniel chuckled again, his tone warm yet teasing, “You seem to be in quite the sticky situation, huh? How about this, I’ll let you owe me the fare for now, since you’re not a bad person. In return, though, you promise to keep using my service and to throw in some good words for me, okay?”

  Lucian managed a small, grateful smile as he replied, “Oh, of course. Thank you so much.”

  Daniel nodded with a playful glint in his eye, “Just don’t end up owing me too much money, alright? If you do, I might just have to sue you for it. Well, anyway, I should be on my way now. See you around, Mister Lucian.”

  After Daniel stepped on the gas and drove away, Lucian was left alone with his tangled thoughts. With a heavy sigh, he trudged back into his apartment and re-entered his room—a space that looked exactly as it had a few hours earlier: messy but not unclean. Exhausted, his stomach began to growl, reminding him of a feeling he couldn’t quite name.

  "Huh… what is this feeling?" he murmured, instinctively holding his stomach. He understood, on some level, that he was hungry—even if the word "hungry" still eluded him. With a slow, aimless stride, he wandered around the room looking for something, anything, to eat.

  His eyes landed on the fridge. He recalled vague remarks from Vincent about Philip walking into the kitchen for a bite, and he remembered that Philip’s kitchen was equipped with a machine just like the one here. But Lucian wasn’t in the mood for clear memories right now, everything was a blur.

  Without a second thought, he opened the fridge. Inside, amidst a jumble of items, one thing caught his attention: a dish holding a leftover frozen pizza. He didn’t know what a pizza was, but the sight of it screamed "edible."

  Carrying the dish to the table, Lucian began eating. The pizza was hard and cold, its flavor far from what one would call delightful, but hunger outweighed culinary finesse. Piece by piece, he devoured his meal, and slowly, a bit of his strength returned. Eventually, he slumped back in his chair, the strange, off-tasting food doing quite good at filling the emptiness gnawing at him.

  As he sat there, his thoughts drifted back through the day’s chaotic events, from waking up in the hospital and watching a disturbing video of himself spiraling into madness, to his frantic attempt to solve a murder case.

  He remembered being dragged into that bizarre library, enduring Vincent’s harsh scolding, and all the confusion that followed. So much had happened, leaving him with more questions than answers. Yet, one fragment of memory resonated: the doctor’s soothing words echoing in his mind,

  “I understand you have many questions unanswered, many things that still confuse you. But I need you to keep on living, to keep doing what you do best, being a detective, finding clues about your life, Lucian. Connect the dots and find the truth. I promise you, once you do, everything will make sense.”

  The echo was quickly met with a skeptical thought “Everything will make sense, huh? I hope you’re telling the truth, doctor.”

  Suddenly, a spark of resolve pulled him from his reverie. Lucian noticed the camera still sitting on the floor where he’d left it earlier. He picked it up and decided to watch the video again, desperate for some clarity. But something was wrong this time, his own eyes were missing from the footage.

  “What the…?” he murmured in disbelief. Rewinding the video, he paused at the moment his past self had gazed out of the window. Intrigued and unsettled, Lucian carried the camera over to his window and drew back the curtains.

  Outside, the sky was dominated by a single, blazing red moon, no stars, no other sources of light, just the unnatural glow of that blood-red orb in an otherwise dark, empty sky. And yet, for all his confusion, nothing else seemed amiss.

  “Is there something I'm missing? Something I do not see?” he pondered aloud as he drew the curtains shut again. After all, wasn’t the moon always red?

  Feeling the need to clear his head, Lucian set the camera down on the coffee table and meandered around his apartment until he found his bedroom. "I knew it had to be here somewhere," he thought, recalling lessons from a previous case that had taught him the ins and outs of a house. It was common sense, really. Finally, he collapsed onto his bed with a quiet sigh of relief.

  “It’s so comfy,” he murmured, the soft embrace of the bed finally lulling him into sleep, a temporary escape from the whirlwind of unanswered questions and elusive truths that had defined his day.