Books. Books as far as the eye could see.

Though she could not make out their titles from where she stood in the dim cavernous library, their thickness hinted enough at their reading level. She knew in her gut however that something more important lay hidden here, even if she could not fathom what.

Slow and cautious, she stepped further into the library's depths, footsteps echoing. As a matter of fact, she found the echoes disturbing. Same with the silence.

Seriously, she could not be the only person here, right? Where was everybody?

Another oddity caught her attention when she turned the corner around a particular shelf out of a whim and happened to glance the shelves. The titles on the books' spines were missing letters – no, she realized upon closer inspection, the titles themselves were disappearing letter by letter, each one slowly losing opacity over time.

Kor a

Un ed St es

J pa

Afg a is an

Ind a

So h Afr ca

Br z l

G rm ny

V et am

E gl nd

H mew r d

And what did any of this mean?

As if on cue, a white glimmer of light flashed in her peripheral, drawing her attention to the very end of the library aisle in which she stood.

There in the far distance, before a colorful stain-glass window depicting a tall white castle and sticking out of a large dark stone atop a circular carpet of red felt, stood a gleaming sword, its guard and pommel etched with intricate designs too distant from here to make out.

For reasons beyond her, she found herself gravitating towards the weapon, transfixed. Somehow in the space of a few moments, her feet had traversed the lengthy hallway of nameless books all the way to her destination. Then there she stood before the sword, its heavenly glow reflecting in her eyes.

Her hand, slow yet wanting, reached for the hilt.

Unworthy.

She jerked her hand back in shock and alarm, startled by the deep yet smooth (and oddly metallic) voice that seemed to reverberate from nowhere yet everywhere at once. Whoever had just spoken to her, their tone carried undeniable authority yet at the same time clear derision as well, like a king sneering down at an impudent peasant.

The girl stood her ground, daring the source to show themselves.

Though such did not happen, she did receive a reaction for her troubles.

Lowly at first, a rumbling start to sound around the library…then louder and louder until it had become harsh enough to make the girl cover her ears. What's more, the rumbling started to affect the ground like an earthquake, rendering the effort to stand a struggle while causing the towering shelves start to tremble, their books spilling out one by one.

And every book that reached the ground shattered like glass, the sounds almost inaudible in the cacophony.

Once more, the disembodied spoke…only this time with fathoms more disgust.

Thou art unworthy.

But why though? And unworthy of what: to wield the blade, or for something much grander?

Before the girl could demand an explanation, the floor gave away beneath her, giving way to black.

As she fell deep into the soundless void, the last sight her eyes caught would be the sword, now free of the stone and glowing in the void like an apathic star.

All. Unworthy.

XXX

"THOU ART UNWORTHY!"

Connie jerked awake with a yelp, eyes flying open from shock, the left side of her head feeling faintly numb from resting on her up until now folded arms.

"Whoa, you OK there?"

The young woman shot her head to the right, where the concerned voice came from, and discovered her friend Danny looking back with a perplexed expression.

"Sorry!" another voice called out. Connie shifted her view forward to discover her other friend Patricia tapping a pointer finger against the face of her cellphone, lowering the volume on a video. The Indian girl barely registered what sounded like combat and hardcore rock music emanating from the device. "I really wanted to see the next Death Battle and since we've gotten a lull in studying, I figured why not?"

Looking around, Connie realized she and her friends had been sitting around one of the desks in their school library. How appropriate.

Still, the fact she actually nodded off in the middle of studying elicited a blush on Connie's cheeks. Thank goodness her parents weren't around to lecture her about this.

Danny rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Well, lucky for you the librarian on duty doesn't seem to mind." Thumbing over his shoulder, he drew the girls' attention to the lanky man sleeping behind the desk near the library entrance, head in his arms not unlike Connie had been.

Patricia pulled back her long sleeve to check her watch. "Well, it's about time we wrap this session up anyway. My parents are expecting me home soon."

"Ditto," Danny seconded as he stood up and gathered his belongings into his backpack. Then with a huff after zipping the bag closed, he hoisted it onto his back in an exaggerated fashion. "Oof, can't wait for these stupid tests to be done already! These spring classes are killing me!"

"Oh c'mon, it hasn't been all that bad," Patricia assured in an amused tone as she too stood up, "the anthropology class has been pretty cool!"

"Only because you got stuck with a cool teacher. I happened to get the ex-military instructor for world history."

Despite her lingering daze, Connie managed a genuine smile. "Pretty sure Mr. Martinez is just really strict."

Once again, Danny rolled his eyes, though this time with a dramatic groan. "And so once again I stand alone upon my convictions. Will my trials of lone suffering ever cease?"

"Ah, come off it with the exaggerations already, Othello," Patricia huffed as she lightly bopped her friend upside the head, "worry about passing your tests and then you'll have most of March to laze around. Be thankful our high school's one of the few that observes a two-week spring break!"

As her two friends continued to joke back and forth, Connie proceeded to gather her own belongings into her backpack. As she did, however, her mind could not help but usher back to that strange dream. Not that it wouldn't have been her first one ever yet something about it in particular had struck her as significant, as if hinting towards something.

Something serious.

Connie shook her head immediately at the thought. For all the craziness she had faced in the past, a mere dream should pale in comparison. Besides, given her current surroundings and how she could recall reading a fantasy novel last night, the thought of anything abnormal being behind it warranted no more than a chuckle.

'Yeah, it's all probably nothing,' she assured herself before following her friends, intent to get home and relax in preparation for the last day of tests before vacation.

Miles away in Japan, a young man with messy raven hair wakes up from the same dream.