The moment Si Hon and Han stepped into the Comics section, the atmosphere shifted into something… quieter. Stranger. Towering shelves stretched endlessly in every direction, stacked so high they blurred into the distance. At first glance, it looked like any other part of the library— until Si Hon tilted his head upward.
The rocky ceiling that should've been there was gone, replaced by a drifting layer of dark smoke, slow and heavy like clouds that had lost their way.
The shelves didn't stop beneath it. They pierced straight through, continuing upward into something unseen, as if the space itself refused to have a limit.
And yet—
It was empty.
No scrambling prisoners. No shouting. No frantic grabbing of books like in the other sections. Just silence, thick and undisturbed. Si Hon's gaze swept across the aisles, narrowing slightly.
