"Freedom; I'm finally free!"
Exclaimed Falenth as he stepped out of his home after many years of study.
He hurried down the stairs, carelessly using the handrail as a slide.
*I intend to celebrate this blessed day with a Nutella croissant.*
*I truly deserve it!*
Once he reached the ground floor, he made a feline leap and landed almost perfectly on his feet.
But despite this slight misstep, Falenth did not stop at all; his hunger was too great.
He flung open the building's door, and sunlight finally poured in.
It was a wonderful spring day.
The sun was brighter than usual, or perhaps not; in any case, the light blinded his eyes.
It had been a very long time since Falenth had breathed fresh air.
The wind blew gently: it was neither cold enough to sting the skin sharply, nor weak enough to be ignored as something trivial.
Yet, despite these minor disturbances, Falenth kept moving forward, slightly lowering his head as he continued on his way.
White marble buildings rose toward the sky, almost touching it; however, within this archipelago there was one building in particular that surpassed all the others, piercing the clouds with an unseen peak.
Iperuranium was a peaceful city, full of life and with a divine air. It was meant to be a utopia: the ideal and flawless city, equipped with the best possible infrastructure and adorned with geometrically designed squares and parks.
And yet, that Iperuranium was only a memory; today it was widowed and taciturn.
There was not a single living soul in the streets, no voices discussing recent events, no sound of footsteps from people who had gone out to enjoy the day.
Only the howling wind and the sound of Falenth's footsteps filled the silence.
Falenth continued walking, pressing his feet against the ground with quick, determined steps.
*This is so frustrating!*
*Is the bar still that far away?*
He cast a quick glance at the surrounding area, realizing he was getting closer and closer to his destination.
For a moment he noticed a closed clothing shop; he recognized it—it was where he had bought his current outfit: the long brown coat, the gray cotton trousers, and the white wool sweater.
Or perhaps it was another shop.
He could not remember very well.
Still, he knew that the Como bar was nearby. Of that he was more than certain, since he had crossed that street 1,974 times every day.
He could not possibly forget it.
Now he just had to turn the corner, go in, and—
"Oh, come on!"
"You can't do this to me; not you of all things!"
The bar was blocked by its shutter: closed shop.
Falenth would have to go another day without a croissant.
He began pacing around that square meter of space, back and forth, throwing his hands up at the sky to vent his irritation and firing off complaints without any order.
"Traitor, damn traitor!" he said, pointing an accusing finger at the shutter.
"Out of all living beings that exist, you had to pull this stunt on me? And at this very moment?!"
"You're like Judas. Maybe even worse!"
*Huff. Huff. Huff.*
After taking a few breaths to calm down, Falenth finally looked away, observing the world around him and noticing that Iperuranium was completely abandoned.
"Oh…"
…and he was the only remaining Will.
---
Falenth was a Will of 224 years, with brown hair and eyes, a slender body, and slight dark circles caused by his meager five hours of sleep.
He had spent the first 124 years of his life learning things that had not been particularly useful, such as leading a normal life and following daily rituals with millimetric precision.
During the following 100 years, he chose to remain shut inside his shell, never going out even once.
The reason for this choice?
Probably to learn how to write a story that would finally satisfy him; even though, to be honest, he himself was not entirely sure.
From that century of mad and desperate study, he remembered by heart types of plots and characters, but he had forgotten the reason behind it all.
The Wills were a kind of divinity in human form, who had settled in a peaceful community billions of years earlier to build Iperuranium.
Beyond that, the Wills were also the creators of countless stories. They created worlds, characters, and guided the fate of these stories so that they would reach their ultimate purpose.
All these stories were contained in the Library of Babel, the enormous tower at the center of Iperuranium that rose up to the clouds.
---
*Huff. Huff. Huff.*
Falenth ran; heavy breaths alternated with each step, accompanied by quick glances around him.
Trash filled every bin already at eight in the morning, traffic lights had been off for who knew how long, and cars lay dead in their respective parking spaces.
*Where the hell did everyone go?*
*Should I maybe shout and hope someone hears me?*
*I could, but… it's too embarrassing.*
I'm pretty sure there's no one around; either they're all at the Library for some reason, or they're not here at all.
Raising his gaze to the sky, Falenth saw the gigantic tower drawing ever closer, until he finally stopped right in front of it.
The tower was an enormous cylindrical block of marble, interspersed with windows from which one could enjoy a breathtaking view of the city.
Accompanying it was a very long and soft classical ribbon that wrapped around the building both upward, toward the sky, and downward, toward the abyss.
The Library of Babel had indeed been designed to extend upward, housing the youngest stories, and downward beneath Iperuranium, housing the oldest ones.
Before taking another step, Falenth noticed something strange, shining and glittering, that caught his attention.
A small light, reflected by the blinding sun, began to float toward him, drawing him in more and more.
"Hey, what are you supposed to be?"
Falenth stepped back a few paces, trying to maintain a constant distance between himself and the mysterious object.
The little light, however, kept approaching, gently and innocently.
Once it reached human height, it revealed itself in all its magnificence: it was a beautiful blue butterfly.