The wind howled through the open window, rattling the pages of the ancient book in Lucy’s hands. She had found it in the dusty corner of the library, its leather cover worn, its gold lettering faded. Something about it called to her—something strange, almost alive.

Like a moth drawn to a flickering flame, she turned the first page, her fingers trembling with anticipation. The words swirled before her eyes, twisting, shifting, reforming. A sudden gust of wind burst through the room, whipping her hair around her face. Then—silence.

A moment later, the world tilted. The floor beneath her vanished. She was falling, spiralling through darkness, her scream swallowed by the void.

When she finally landed, the air smelled of damp earth and pine. Towering trees loomed above her, their twisted branches stretching toward the sky like skeletal fingers. The book—now clutched tightly in her hands—glowed with an eerie, golden light.

She wasn’t in the library anymore.

The forest seemed to breathe around her, leaves whispering secrets she couldn’t understand. Then, a shadow moved between the trees. A pair of glowing eyes fixed on her.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” a voice murmured—soft, yet laced with danger.

Lucy’s heart pounded. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

The figure stepped forward, revealing a cloaked woman with silver hair and a gaze like fire. “That book,” she said, pointing a slender finger. “It binds you to this world now. If you wish to return home, you must find the final page.”

Lucy’s breath caught. The final page? She flipped through the book frantically—but the last page was missing.

The trees groaned, shifting closer, as if sensing her fear.

And just like that, the story had truly begun.