As The Paradox vanished into nonexistence, Steven hovered in eerie silence. But this silence wasn't empty—it was expectant. The Codex glowed, its newly written page humming with energy. Without warning, a portal opened—not of Steven's making, but of the Codex's will.
He stepped through.
What greeted him was… impossible.
He stood in an endless circular library—spirals of floating bookshelves spinning in midair, staircases climbing to nowhere, tomes with titles written in languages he couldn't comprehend. Some books whispered. Others screamed. One tried to leap from a shelf before being caught by a floating quill.
"This place… doesn't follow any magical law," Steven said aloud.
"It's not meant to," said a voice behind him.
Steven turned sharply—expecting an enemy.
Instead, he saw a young girl in a glowing librarian's robe. She had no shadow, yet the light in her eyes was ancient.
"Welcome to the Indexium. The Library That Shouldn't Exist," she said, bowing.
"I've studied nearly every realm of magic and knowledge," Steven said cautiously. "How come I've never heard of this?"
She smiled. "Because it only appears to those who break reality and survive it."
Steven lowered his staff slightly, intrigued. "Then why bring me here?"
The librarian snapped her fingers. A massive tome floated down—The Book of Forbidden Truths.
"Because your Codex is incomplete. You were never meant to wield it—not as it is."
Steven's heart skipped. "What do you mean?"
She walked beside him, guiding him through the rows. "The Codex was written by the Architects, beings older than stars. They designed it to evolve, but it requires a soul bound to destiny. A Starcaster."
Steven frowned. "I thought I was the Starcaster."
She turned to him. "You are. But you're only half awakened."
Before he could ask, the Book of Forbidden Truths opened on its own—revealing an image.
His own face.
But it was cracked—like porcelain splitting—revealing something darker beneath.
"There is a fragment inside you. Something the Codex cannot read."
A sudden rumble shook the Indexium. Tomes scattered. The walls rippled like paper in wind.
"He's found us," she whispered.
Steven's grip tightened. "Who?"
She raised a finger, trembling. "The one who corrupted the Architects. The one you'll face at the end."
The shadows of the library trembled—then parted.
Out stepped a figure cloaked in starless robes. His face was veiled in smoke. His presence made even the books recoil.
"The Black Author."
Steven's blood ran cold. This was no ordinary enemy. This was the one who rewrote destiny.
To be continued