by Phosthelazy
Countless books. Stories without origin. Pages whose ink sometimes seems to precede the hand destined to write them. Thus is whispered the name of the Infinite Library. Each tome unveils a possibility; between the blackened lines lies a depth no gaze could ever fathom. Some recount worlds long since vanished. Others, fables that have yet to find their way into existence. And beyond this infinity unfolds an even more unfathomable enigma: the City of Stories. A dimension unbound by fiction, where reality itself seems to surrender its sovereignty. There dwell the Homo Idæ, singular beings whose destinies intertwine with the primordial flow of creaton. Yet, it was not always so... If only he had known... But he knew... To reach the true world, one must surrender entirely to the void...
