The moment Ash's fingers brushed the book, it came alive—pages unfolding in quiet grace, the ancient script of True Reality glowing faintly against the dark parchment.
His lip twitched as the truth sank in.
There was no sudden spark of divine wisdom, no flash of instant enlightenment—just reading, plain and simple.
Like any ordinary person thumbing through a novel in the quiet hours of midnight.
He didn't mind; in fact, it carried a certain warmth, a touch of nostalgia.
"Alright," he muttered, already cross-legged in the quiet alcove. "Let's make this quick."
His wives lingered in the skies above the Null Firmament, likely wondering why their husband had just been standing there.
He'd expected it to be the usual—blink in, blink out.
But he was wrong.
How could he have known he'd be sent to a library?
