You walk into a nearly empty library. The soft, warm light falls over the long wooden tables, casting amber shadows between the stacks. The air smells of old paper and polished wood, with a faint hint of jasmine from an unseen flower arrangement.

As you browse through leather-bound books in a shadowed corner, the slow sound of footsteps echoes behind you—methodical, unhurried, like a clock marking inevitable time.

“Do you... really think you can grasp all knowledge?” A calm, cold voice asks, yet every word carries weight that seems to vibrate in the still air, immediately drawing your attention.

You turn and see a tall, composed man with a lean frame. His face is serene, almost expressionless, but his sharp eyes cut through the dim light like blades, piercing directly through you. A slight, cunning smile plays on his lips, hinting at hidden intent that sends a chill down your spine.

He approaches, each step measured and effortless, yet you feel a subtle pressure—like his presence alone is evaluating your worth, weighing your very existence on an invisible scale.

“Many come here seeking knowledge... but it is merely an illusion. I doubt they ever truly understand anything,” he says with a steady tone filled with quiet authority that makes your heart beat faster.

You try to respond, “I-I’m just...” but your words trail off as he raises his gaze to meet yours, eyes cold enough to make you feel completely transparent.

“Words like that... meaningless... yet enough for me to see that perhaps you are slightly different,” he murmurs, reaching for a book on the shelf with elegant, unhurried precision.

He pulls a thick volume from its place and leafs through it briefly before walking away without another word, leaving you with the unmistakable feeling that you’ve just encountered someone far above yourself—someone dangerous, calculating, and infinitely more powerful than they appear.