The entrance door of the library creaked open with the softness of a whisper, letting in a stream of warm afternoon light and the quiet presence of a girl.
She stepped in gently, as though the building itself demanded respect, her long black hair catching the light in waves as it swayed behind her.
She didn't wear anything flashy, just a plain white T-shirt tucked into fitted black jeans, but on her, simplicity looked deliberate, like it belonged.
Her gaze swept across the room, not aimless but focused, like she was searching for something, or someone.
The library didn't hum with silence, nor did it buzz with noise.
It rested in a comfortable in-between, the soft flipping of pages, low murmurs of students engaged in half-hearted debates, and the occasional scratch of pen against paper.
It was calm.
Undisturbed.
The kind of calm you could sink into and forget the world for a while.
And for Li Na, that was the point.
The library had always been her place of refuge, the only one that never expected too much from her.
No need to smile on command, no pressure to speak when silence felt safer.
Here, books asked no questions.
They only offered answers, sometimes even the ones she hadn't known she needed.
She came here every day, religiously.
To read, to explore, to escape.
Romance novels, manhwa filled with dramatic cliffhangers and gorgeous characters, inspirational books that left her thoughtful, historical accounts that made her wonder what kind of life she'd lived in another century.
It was all here.
Everything she could ever want.
Well… almost everything.
There was one book, one ridiculous title she'd looked for every time she came, as if it might magically appear on the shelf one day.
'How to Make Money Without Doing Anything.'
Absurd?
Yes.
But hopeful?
Also yes.
She had searched for that "sacred scripture" for years, flipping through every financial or self-help section the library had.
But that one book?
Never there.
It had become a joke to her, a quiet wish tucked behind every casual scan of a bookshelf.
Eventually, she'd given up the fantasy and leaned fully into romance manhwas.
At least fictional love was always available.
Today, though, something had shifted.
Maybe it was the way the sunlight fell on the floor, stretching long and golden like it was trying to point her somewhere.
Or maybe it was just the weight of her own thoughts.
Whatever it was, she'd made up her mind, no romance today.
No boy-meets-girl, no love triangles, no heartbreaking sacrifices that made her cry in bed at night for fictional people.
Because lately, everyone around her seemed to be falling in love for real.
Friends were getting married, updating their status to "in a relationship", posting pictures of late-night calls and morning coffee dates.
And she…
She just turned another page.
And cheered for fictional couples as if their happiness could somehow substitute for her own.
Or, sometimes, she hated the endings, when the characters didn't end up together, or worse, when someone died.
After reading enough of those, she began to wonder if sad endings had become a literary cliché.
It was like the writers enjoyed breaking hearts for sport.
Li Na exhaled slowly, the kind of sigh that came from somewhere deeper than tiredness.
Then she walked further in, weaving through students and readers, past shelves that had become familiar landmarks in her mental map of the library.
Fantasy.
Historical.
Self-help.
Science fiction.
She moved with purpose, eyes trailing over the rows of spines like a seasoned hunter in a jungle of ink and paper.
Her fingers trailed over bindings until they paused, there.
Something new.
Something strange.
A single book sat where there hadn't been one yesterday.
"Attack on Zombie."
Her brow furrowed slightly.
She had passed this section many times.
She knew it like the back of her hand.
And yet… this book hadn't been there.
Not once.
'Maybe it's a new collection,' she thought, tilting the book to read the author's name.
There wasn't one.
No name.
No publisher.
No year.
Just the title printed in bold, slightly faded ink.
The cover had a texture that felt both old and untouched, like something preserved on purpose.
She stared at it, uncertain.
And then, slowly, her fingers closed around it.
There was something about it.
A pull. Not eerie, just... magnetic.
It didn't surprise her, though.
She had a secret, one she rarely spoke about, not even to her closest friends.
Li Na could detect peak fiction.
It wasn't something she could explain or prove.
But she just knew when a book was going to be life-changing, soul-shaking, impossible to put down.
And this one, it had that aura.
That silent "read me" energy.
She hesitated only for a second before walking to the nearest chair.
For once, she didn't do her usual routine of grabbing backup books in case the first one was boring.
She didn't need to.
This one already felt different.
She sat down, adjusted herself, and placed the book on her lap.
Then the dizziness hit.
It came suddenly, like a wave crashing over her head, muddling her vision and pressing behind her eyes.
She closed them, gripping the edges of the chair tightly as she waited for it to pass.
It wasn't new, these strange spells happened now and then, but it was never this strong.
Still, as quickly as it came, it faded.
She opened her eyes, took a breath, and looked down at the book again.
She didn't think twice.
She flipped the cover open.
And everything changed.
******
Li Na flipped another page in her book, her fingers brushing the paper with practiced ease.
The words on the page held her attention for a brief moment longer, but only just.
They blurred slightly, then sharpened, then blurred again.
She blinked, frowning.
The dizziness was back.
At first, she tried to ignore it.
She'd gotten used to this lightheaded feeling over the past week, chalked it up to stress, to sleep deprivation, to being too busy to be human.
But this time… this time it came crashing in like a wave during a storm.
Her breath caught as her head swayed slightly.
Her fingers reached up, pressing against her temples like she could hold her skull together through sheer willpower.
But it only got worse.
The room began to spin, slowly at first, like a merry-go-round pushed by a child.
Then faster.
Her heart thudded in her chest, each beat louder than the last.
She closed her eyes, hoping it would steady her, ground her.
It didn't.
If anything, it only made the spinning feel more violent.
She knew exactly why this was happening.
Working double shifts in the hospital for nearly two weeks without a proper break had pushed her beyond her limits.
The other nurse, was supposed to alternate with her, but she'd gotten sick.
And with no backup in sight, Li Na had shouldered the load, telling herself she could handle it.
And maybe she could have.
For a while.
But even steel breaks under too much pressure.
With trembling fingers, she set the book down on the wooden library table, her breaths shallow and quick.
Her vision had started to blur around the edges, soft and white, like the world was slowly fading into fog.
She stood abruptly, or tried to.
Her knees buckled.
The chair scraped against the floor.
Her hand missed the edge of the table.
She fell.
And then—
Nothing.
------------
'Hospital?'
The word drifted through her consciousness like a half-formed thought.
'Am I in the hospital?'
Amanda's eyelids fluttered open, slow and heavy.
Her vision swam at first, a haze of dull colors and shifting shapes, but gradually things sharpened, enough for her to realize that nothing around her looked remotely like a hospital.
Or a library.
Or anywhere she had ever been.
She sat up, dazed, trying to make sense of the suffocating air and the gritty sensation beneath her hands.
Sand. Dry, fine, yellowish sand.
It stretched out in all directions, flat and unbroken, the horizon a blur of heatwaves and dust.
The sky was a bleached shade of gray, thick with particles that hung like ash, making it hard to breathe or see more than a few feet ahead.
Her heart pounded.
"How…" she whispered, her voice hoarse, barely audible.
'This wasn't right.'
'This wasn't possible.'
She'd collapsed in a library, she remembered that clearly.
The smell of old paper.
The soft hum of fluorescent lights.
The familiar comfort of being surrounded by books and quiet.
If anything, she should've woken up on a hospital bed.
Maybe someone found her.
Maybe they'd called for help.
That was what should have happened.
But instead…
She was here.
In the middle of nowhere.
With nothing.
A creeping chill spread through her, even under the weight of the dry, oppressive heat.
Li Na's mind began spinning with theories, all of them increasingly unhinged, all of them desperately trying to make some sense of this.
'Maybe there was a nuclear strike.'
Her country, or the world, decimated in an instant.
She could've been thrown by the shockwave, the library vaporized, everything gone.
And she survived?
Alone?
No.
That didn't explain the untouched desert.
No signs of destruction.
No smell of fire or melted metal.
'Maybe I was kidnapped.'
Her thoughts tripped over themselves as she stood shakily to her feet, brushing sand from her jeans.
'But who would go through the trouble of kidnapping a nurse?' she thought, 'And why bring me here? This place didn't even look real.'
There weren't even tire tracks.
No buildings.
Not a tree.
Not a rock.
Just endless sand.
'Or maybe… maybe this is just a dream.'
It was the only theory that seemed to hold weight.
This kind of impossible environment?
No logic?
No context?
'It had to be a dream. It had to be.'
She lifted a hand slowly and stared at it.
Then, without a second thought, she slapped herself.
Hard.
The sound cracked like a whip in the empty air.
Her cheek stung immediately.
"Ouch!" she yelled, eyes watering. "Why the heck did I do that to myself?!"
The pain throbbed, real and unrelenting.
Her skin burned where her palm had connected.
"Definitely not a dream."
She stood there, completely still, the realization settling over her like a thick fog.
Every theory she'd come up with unraveled at the seams, exposed for the flimsy excuses they were.
None of it made sense.
None of it could explain where she was or how she got here.
Which left only one possibility.
A terrifying, absurd possibility.
Li Na's voice wavered, barely above a whisper.
"I'm not in my world anymore."