CHAPTER 34

With the book cradled gently in his hands, Blur led the way to a cozy corner of the library—the lounge, where plush white chairs beckoned under soft, warm lighting.

As they settled into their seats, the room seemed to cocoon them in a serene ambiance.

Number 102's eyes remained fixed on the book, her attention unwavering, her anticipation palpable.

With a gentle touch, Blur opened the book, revealing its first few pages adorned with vibrant illustrations that brought the tale of "The Princess's Knight" to life.

His voice, soothing and filled with wonder, began to narrate the story.

"Once upon a time," he began, "in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a beautiful princess."

With every word, he painted a vivid picture of the adventures that unfolded as the brave knight sought to protect the princess from the perils of their world.

The pages turned, revealing more enchanting illustrations that transported them to a realm of fantasy and imagination.

Throughout the reading, Number 102's eyes remained glued to the pages, her focus never wavering.

Her struggle with speech did nothing to conceal the emotions that radiated from her.

She was wholly engrossed in the world of storytelling, captivated by the magic of words and images.

For Blur, this experience was more than just reading a story—it was a profound connection.

In this shared moment, their communication transcended the boundaries of spoken language.

They communicated through the universal language of storytelling, where emotions spoke louder than words.

As the story unfolded, Blur noticed a subtle change in Number 102's expression.

It was as though the narrative provided her with a comforting refuge, a temporary escape from the limitations of her world.

Hours passed, and they finally reached the last page of the book.

"And so," Blur concluded, "the princess knight searched for his princess throughout the kingdom. The end."

Wait is that all?

Closing the book gently, he placed it back on the table.

When he turned to look at Number 102, he discovered that she had fallen asleep, her peaceful visage revealing the depths of her vulnerability. She had dozed off mid-way through the story.

Blur couldn't help but wonder about the book itself.

It was different from the other books in the library, bearing the appearance of an older version. Its pages held a sense of history and nostalgia that set it apart.

More so, it had an ending that seem like the author gave up half-way.

"Why did it end that way?"

He examined the book more closely, pondering why Number 102 held it so dearly.

Despite his extensive exploration of the library's collection, he couldn't recall encountering a book quite like it.

The mystery surrounding its origin intrigued him.

"By the way, where did she get the book from?"

As he contemplated where Number 102 might have obtained the book, a sudden and excruciating pain gripped his mind. It felt like a thousand needles piercing his skull, and he winced, clutching his head in agony.

His vision glitches, and a torrent of fragmented memories surged forth, overwhelming his senses.

It was as if his very thoughts were being scrambled and rearranged.

Then, in an instant, the glitch reached its peak, and Blur's consciousness faltered.

He fell backward, losing grip on reality as unconsciousness claimed him.

He drifted into an unsettling slumber.

—

The room was drenched in an eerie silence, disturbed only by the faint hum of a fluorescent light. As Blur gradually regained consciousness, he found himself in an uncomfortable position.

His head rested on a cold, hard table, and his body ached as if he had been lying there for hours.

The last thing he remembered was reading a book, Blur tried to piece together his surroundings.

It was empty—something was missing.

Panic gripped him as he scanned the room.

Blur attempted to sit up, his eyes darted around the room, searching for any clues about what was missing.

"Okay, stay calm," he told himself, though his racing heart disagreed. "Maybe..."

Blur's gaze settled on a lone chair opposite him, and that's when he noticed it—the absence of someone who should have been there. Number 102.

As Blur's fear intensified, he couldn't help but wonder about Number 102.

Where was she? Was she in danger too? A thousand questions raced through his mind, but the room offered no answers.

Then he dashed outside to find her.

9

In the dimly lit hallway of the facility, young Blur found himself in a precarious situation.

He had been searching for someone, someone who was supposed to be here, but she was nowhere to be found. The eeriness of this place was starting to get to him.

The flickering lights overhead added an unsettling ambiance to the already unsettling atmosphere.

It was the first time he had seen the lights flicker in the facility, but wasn't in anyway unfamiliar.

*Blink, blink.

The lights blinked twice, casting brief moments of darkness before revealing the hallway once more.

Blur's heart raced, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was not alone.

He swallowed hard, trying to quell his unease, and decided to look beyond the next blink of the lights.

*Blink.

As the third blink approached, he focused his gaze further down the hallway, where an eerie wavering shadow flickered like a flame in the wind.

What is that?

It seemed to move closer with each passing blink, a ghostly silhouette that left no footsteps in its wake.

The only sound that accompanied it was a strange cracking, like wood snapping in the midst of a roaring fire.

*Blink.

With each light's return, the shadow advanced slightly, repeating this unnerving dance twice more.

Blur stood frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from the approaching enigma.

His heart pounded in his chest, and a cold sweat trickled down his spine as the unknown entity drew nearer.

In the third blink, the shadow revealed its true form, and Blur's breath caught in his throat.

It was a monstrous being, headless and grotesque. Its skin resembled tattered, blackened cloth, undulating as if it were composed of flames.

Claw-like fingers extended from its gnarled hands, while its limbs appeared more beast than human.

But the most unnerving feature was its mask, a grotesque visage with hive-like holes bored into its torso, an eerie semblance of a face.

Then, in an instant, the mask split open vertically.

"—piiiii!"

The creature emitted a chilling, discordant sound akin to multiple birds chirping a single, dissonant note.

Black mist cascaded from the ruptured mask, falling like a sinister rain.

Blur's body tensed, his skin prickling as the inky mist crept closer, threatening to engulf him.

Panic surged within him, and he felt a searing heat emanating from the approaching darkness. It was as if this entity fed on his fear, drawing it in like a moth to a flame.

Just as despair began to tighten its grip on him, a voice echoed in Blur's mind, a desperate cry that pierced through the terror. "Run."

Without hesitation, Blur obeyed the command. He turned on his heel and sprinted down the hallway, his footsteps echoing loudly in the stillness of the building.