Malakai stood before a large, imposing building, its stone façade stretching towards the sky like a giant's fist.
He tilted his head, his eyes fixed on the structure, his gaze tracing the intricate carvings that danced across its surface.
The words "WORLD LIBRARY" were etched into the wall, the letters deep and bold, seeming to whisper secrets to the wind.
With a gentle push, Malakai opened the door, his head leading the way. The door swung open without a creak, without a whisper, without a sound. The silent was like a heavy blanket that wrapped around him, muffling his senses.
As he stepped inside, his footsteps made no sound, his paws barely touching the floor. The air was thick and still, like a held breath. Malakai's ears strained to pick up any noise, but there was nothing.
No rustle of papers, no whisper of voices, no creak of wooden shelves. It was as if the library was holding its breath.
