The village was soon behind him as Yanz ventured into the unknown, his steps slow and labored. The journey was grueling, and his frail body, weakened from starvation and fatigue, protested with every step. Far in the distance, he could make out a small, dark shape against the horizon. It was the library he sought, though it appeared tiny from where he stood, a testament to how far away it truly was.
Yanz trudged forward, his eyes scanning the desolate landscape. After an hour of walking, his path grew increasingly eerie. The ground, surprisingly moist despite the surrounding desolation, was littered with the dried corpses of strange, unidentifiable animals. Their flesh had long since withered, leaving behind only desiccated husks. Yanz studied them as he walked, but his brilliant mind, trained in the sciences of his own world, recognized none of the species. It was as if he had stepped into an alien world, one where even death wore an unfamiliar face.
As he continued, his body screamed for rest. He paused frequently, leaning against whatever he could find—a tree, a rock, anything to keep from collapsing. Each break was a small respite, but it never lasted long enough. The path to the library was longer than he anticipated, and the sun's descent only quickened the pace of his heart.
Another hour passed before Yanz finally reached the ancient building. It loomed before him like a relic from a bygone era, covered in thick moss and tangled vines that had claimed it as their own. The structure was massive, its stone facade cracked and worn with age. It seemed as though it had been standing for centuries, perhaps even longer. Yanz couldn't help but feel a sense of awe mixed with dread as he stood before the towering doors, their once grand appearance now faded into decay.
He approached the door, a massive, weathered barrier that stood between him and whatever secrets the library held. Gripping the large iron handle, Yanz pulled with all his might, but the door barely budged. He tried again, muscles straining, but the door refused to open more than an inch. It was jammed, sealed shut by years of neglect and disuse.
Determined, Yanz glanced around and spotted a small wooden log nearby. He picked up a stone and began chipping away at the log's edge, trying to fashion a makeshift wedge. The task was arduous, and every strike of the stone against the wood sapped more of his already dwindling strength. After what felt like an eternity, the log was thin enough at one end to serve as a lever. Yanz wedged it into the small gap he had managed to create and pushed with all his remaining strength.
The door creaked, the ancient wood groaning in protest, but slowly, ever so slowly, it opened just enough for Yanz's thin frame to slip through. Exhausted and breathless, he collapsed onto the cold stone floor inside. The dim light of dusk was fading fast, and the shadows within the library grew longer and darker, enveloping the room in near-total darkness.
Yanz's stomach growled, reminding him of his desperate need for sustenance. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the last piece of moldy bread, crumbling and stale. With no water to wash it down, each bite was a struggle, the dryness threatening to choke him. He forced it down, knowing it was all he had. The bread did little to sate his hunger, but it was better than nothing.
As darkness fell, Yanz knew he needed water. He ventured back outside, searching for a source in the encroaching night. Not far from the library, he found a small puddle of clear water, a rare sight in this barren land. Cupping his hands, he dipped them into the cool liquid and drank, savoring the sensation of the water as it soothed his parched throat. The world around him seemed to still for a moment, a brief respite in the chaotic reality he found himself in.
But the peace did not last. The ground beneath him began to tremble, and a distant sound reached his ears—heavy footsteps, growing louder with each passing second. Yanz's heart raced as he turned to see a massive beast charging toward him. It was a bull-like creature, but far larger and more terrifying than any bull he had ever seen. Its massive horns glinted in the fading light, and its eyes burned with a feral intensity.
Panic surged through Yanz as the beast barreled toward him, and he ran as fast as his weakened legs could carry him back to the library. The door was still slightly ajar, just wide enough for him to squeeze through. He threw himself at the gap, wedging his body through, but the tight space slowed him down. The beast crashed into the door with a thunderous force, shaking the entire structure. Yanz scrambled, sliding inside just as the door slammed shut behind him.
Inside, it was pitch black, the only sounds those of his own ragged breathing and the furious pounding of the beast against the door. For a moment, it seemed like the creature might break through, but the ancient wood held firm. After a few more futile attempts, the beast let out a frustrated roar and finally retreated, its heavy footsteps fading into the distance.
Yanz, now safe from immediate danger, leaned against the door, his body trembling with exhaustion. The day's exertions had taken a heavy toll. With nothing left to sustain him but the last remnants of adrenaline, his vision blurred, and the world around him began to fade. His body, already weakened, could take no more.
Darkness claimed him once again as he collapsed onto the cold stone floor of the library, unconscious and alone in the blackness of the ancient, forsaken building.