What if I were to tell you there was a library, one with infinite shelves holding infinite knowledge and adding infinity upon infinity? A liar and a ruse; is what most would hear in return, but that was the reality of a certain section of my prison. Bound with leather and soaked in silver ink, these shelves were decorated by the knowledge of the true visionary. Murdok, my father–his soul may have extinguished but as he'd promised he was still here with me.
Through the dark clutches of unbeing, he scribed the reality of an infinite world. No longer the god of death as that torch has been passed to me, he'd taken the role as the seer of worlds rather seriously in recent years.
"Woahhhhh~" Sang the fairy, her wings fluttering to the infinite library.
"Hush or you can leave," with a reprimand of a light head-tap with my finger, I brushed her to the side. "And don't touch anything, lest you wish to be incinerated into pixie dust."
