— Fragment from the Book of Emptiness, the first page that never existed —
"In the beginning, there was nothing. Then came the First One. He was weary. He created the Second One so He would not be alone in His exhaustion. The Second One grew bored. He created the Third One to entertain Him. The Third One became angry. He shattered the Second One into a thousand pieces, and each piece became a reality."
— Creation Myth version of the True Unity Church, declared heretical in the year 347 SE.
No one remembers exactly when it all began. Even the gods have forgotten.
What they remember is that one day, the Grand Tapestry existed. Seven layers of reality, each with its own laws of physics, magic, and logic. Between those layers, there were gaps—places where reality became thin like wet paper, where dreams and truth blended into one.
In one of those gaps, in a room that existed nowhere, a man woke up.
His name was Aeon.
Or at least, that was the name he remembered. His name didn't matter. What mattered was the fact that he awoke on a cold black marble floor, beneath a ceiling so high he couldn't see its end, surrounded by bookshelves that stretched endlessly.
An infinite library.
That was the first thing he saw in this new world.
Aeon sat up slowly. There was no panic. No fear. Only a weariness so deep it felt like it had become part of his bones.
"Where am I?" he thought, but the question felt too heavy to speak aloud.
He looked at his body. It was still the same as before—slightly above average height, messy black hair, dark brown eyes that people always said looked "empty." He was wearing the same clothes from his old world: a worn white shirt, black jacket, and jeans that were starting to tear at the knees.
Nothing had changed. And that was strange, because he was supposed to be dead.
Aeon remembered it vaguely. The earthquake. The collapsing building. His wife's head—no, was she his wife? His fiancée? He couldn't remember anymore. Her face had already blurred. All he remembered was the overwhelming cold as the debris crushed him, followed by darkness.
And now he was here.
"You're awake."
The voice came from behind him. Aeon wasn't startled. He slowly turned his head.
Standing before him was a woman—or at least a being that resembled one. She was nearly two meters tall, with snow-white hair that flowed all the way to the floor, and eyes that… had no irises. Just two pure white orbs staring at him with an unreadable expression.
She wore a black robe made of something that looked like fabric but moved like water. In her hands, she held a book—a book with a pitch-black cover that seemed to absorb the light around it.
"Welcome to the Library Between Realities," the woman said. Her voice was flat. Toneless. Like someone reading text from a great distance. "I am the Keeper. My name is not important. What is important is that you should not be here."
Aeon stared at her for a few seconds.
"Okay," he said finally. His voice was hoarse from disuse.
The Keeper blinked. Perhaps that was the first reaction she had shown.
"'Okay'?" she repeated. "That's it? No questions? No anger? No begging to be sent back?"
"No."
"You… are strange."
"I've heard that before."
The Keeper fell silent. For the first time, her expression changed—slightly confused, perhaps. It was hard to tell with those eyeless orbs.
"Usually, those who get trapped here scream," the Keeper said at last. "They cry. They beg. Sometimes they try to attack me. But you just sit there and say 'okay'."
"What's the point of screaming?"
The question made the Keeper go quiet again.
Aeon stood up. His knees felt stiff, but they didn't hurt. Actually, he didn't feel anything. That was normal. Ever since his family died—which family? His wife? His child? He couldn't remember anymore—he hadn't felt anything. Food tasted like paper. Colors looked dull. Sounds seemed to come from far away.
The doctors called it severe depression. The psychiatrists called it "major affective disorder." Aeon just called it "exhaustion."
"What happened to me?" Aeon asked. Not because he wanted to know, but because it seemed like information he should have.
The Keeper let out a sigh—or at least made a motion resembling one.
"You died," she said. "In your world, that building really did crush you. But when you died, something that shouldn't have happened… happened."
"What?"
"Your reality… brushed against another reality. That friction created a gap. And you fell into it. Your physical body was destroyed, but your consciousness—your soul, if you want to call it that—became trapped here."
"In this Library."
"Yes. The Library Between Realities. The place where all knowledge from all realities is stored. A place that no living being should ever be able to enter."
"But I'm here."
"Because you're already dead. You're not a living being. But you're also not a dead being. You are… an anomaly."
Aeon nodded slowly. The information entered his mind, was stored, and then ignored. As usual.
"Then?"
The Keeper stared at him for a long time. Perhaps she was considering something.
"Then… there's something I want you to know," the Keeper said finally. "The world you are in now—The Grand Tapestry—is in danger. Not the kind of danger that will destroy it in a matter of days, but a danger that is slowly eating away at it from within. There is… something wrong with reality itself."
"And you want me to fix it."
It wasn't a question.
The Keeper smiled—a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"No. I don't want you to fix it. I just want you to… read it."
"…Read?"
The Keeper held out the book she was carrying. The pitch-black book that absorbed light.
"This is The Hollow Tome. The Book of Emptiness. Nothing is written in it, yet it can write reality itself. Every word you write in it will become truth—but only if you truly understand the reality you are writing."
Aeon accepted the book. It was as heavy as iron, yet as cold as ice.
"You are the Reader, Aeon," said the Keeper. "Not an ordinary reader of books. But a reader of realities. Your ability to 'read' the flow of cause and effect, fate, and the gaps between realities is something no one else in the Grand Tapestry possesses. It is… a gift from your death."
"A gift."
"Or a curse. Depending on how you see it."
Aeon opened the book. The pages were blank. Pure white. Not a single stain.
He closed it again.
"Okay," he said once more. "I'll go to that world."
The Keeper raised an eyebrow—a movement that looked odd on her statue-like face.
"Without asking what you're supposed to do there?"
"I don't care what I'm supposed to do."
"Then why are you going?"
Aeon thought for a moment. Not because he had trouble answering, but because he wanted to give an honest one.
"Because there's no reason not to go," he said finally. "Here or there, it's all the same. At least there, there's a book to read."
The Keeper laughed. Her laugh sounded like shards of glass falling onto the marble floor.
"You really are strange, Aeon. Maybe that's why you were chosen."
"Chosen?"
"Did you think you fell into the gap of realities by accident? Nothing is accidental, Aeon. Not in the Grand Tapestry. Someone—or something—wanted you to be here. I don't know who. I don't know why. But I know that from now on, your life—pardon, your 'existence'—will never be peaceful again."
Aeon didn't reply. He simply stood there, the black book in his hand, staring at the endless room.
For the first time in many years, something strange stirred inside him.
It wasn't emotion. It wasn't feeling.
Just… a faint curiosity.
Like when he was still a child, before everything fell apart, and he found a new book in the library.
"I want to know how this story ends," he thought.
And then the world around him spun, light enveloped everything, and Aeon vanished from the Library Between Realities.
— Keeper's Note, carved into the library wall that no one can see —
"Seventh arrival. The strangest one. He didn't cry. He didn't get angry. He didn't beg. He just stood there with empty eyes and said 'okay'. I don't know if this is a good sign or a bad one. What I do know is that the Grand Tapestry is not ready for his arrival. But when has the world ever been ready for anything?"