I'm writing this down because if I don't, I fear that I might forget who I was before all this started. Or maybe I'm writing it because I'm afraid of forgetting what they took from me and you. Or maybe I just want to follow their footsteps. Either way, these are the events that led me here. To this truth, to this war, to this outcome I never asked to get tangled into. I guess I'll start from the beginning... from the day I walked into that library, back when I still thought I understood how things worked.

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  The bells started ringing as I pushed the door to the library. The familiar scent of paper greeted me with a pleasant, almost intoxicating smell, like the promise of new knowledge. The door swung closed behind me, and the bell rang again, announcing my presence.

  I glanced at the librarian's desk. The seat was empty, but a book lay there, its cover engraved with a mouse's drawing surrounded by symbols I didn't recognize. Only one line stood out: The Land of the Truth. I thought, "So there are books about them? I thought it was only a spoken legend". Whatever secrets it held, I didn't have the energy to decipher it. I came to read, not to puzzle over cryptic symbols.

  I left the book untouched and turned to the shelves. The librarian was busy arranging the New Books section. Once he finished, I stepped forward to examine the newly added volumes.

  One book caught my attention, and a strange prickling awareness ran through me. The librarian looked up and spoke, "That one? Sharp eyes you've got. Take it with you, no charge". He held the book from the desk with his left hand, covering his mouth, while his right remained behind him. The gesture reminded me of a butler. Formal, restrained, but something about him wasn't quite right.

  He walked away to his desk without acknowledging me further. I ignored him, as I always did with strangers, and opened the book: Evils and Pawns. No author. No table of contents. Simple, like a children's fantasy.

  It was strange. The book looks to have pages ripped or torn. Maybe a faulty copy or a returned book? I didn't know.

  The story recounted a war from hundreds of years ago. "The evils of the world must be eradicated. Otherwise, history itself will be rewritten. They are planning something great, something truly evil. If they succeed, no one will know the truth of the past". My stomach tightened. Not that I believed it all, but what if history really was twisted? I knew enough about this world to consider it a possibility.

  I returned the book and prepared to leave. About two hours had passed while reading it. The librarian moved quickly through the stacks towards the manager's room, his eyes darting, steps uneven, like someone carrying news, but I paid him no mind. People with jobs always had their little urgencies.

  Outside, the city stretched like a living organism, a dense weave of streets, alleys, and looming structures. Above the cobblestone roads, sleek trams glided silently on elevated tracks, powered by an energy civilians could never touch. Their homes ran on ordinary electricity, while the government's hidden power drove the city forward.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Lamps lined the streets, glowing softly through the fog, their steady hum a quiet reminder of who truly held control. Market stalls bustled with life beneath them, polished wood and iron frames gleaming in the light. People moved with practiced precision, each smile and greeting rehearsed, as though freedom itself had been staged.

  Between the grand avenues, narrow alleys swallowed light and sound, their walls etched with faint, fading symbols. If you looked closely, the city whispered truths in places the lamps could not reach.

  I moved through the streets, slipping past the crowds and the elevated trams. Two Capital Guards stood outside a convenience store, gossiping in loud, irritable tones. Curiosity ran through me.

  I bought some bread and slipped back out unnoticed. Creeping closer, I listened:

  "These damn RATS are everywhere. Making our work harder than it should be."

  "Yeah. And those brats who 'made' another 'Transport Device'. What fools. If they wanted to travel the sea, they should've killed themselves before the storm hit them."

  "Water transport? Ha! They think they can do the impossible. Now they'll learn not to meddle with the unknown!"

  Their conversation was filled with arrogance and cruelty, but what made it worse was the pretense of legitimacy. The government openly called for inspections, welcomed testing, even praised the innovators… yet everyone who dared to explore the sea vanished. Official reports claimed "Accidents", but the truth was far darker: the inspections and tests were slaughterhouses in disguise. My parents had been victims of the same facade. I was hiding, helpless, witnessing my world dissolve. What were they thinking? Mom, Dad… what could I have done to stop them?

  I moved away slowly, unnoticed, keeping low. Night was falling, and I needed to return home to meet a friend who would deliver crucial information. The streets had emptied, the lamps glowing softly over the foggy cobblestones, the distant hum of trams fading. From the rooftops, the city looked like a lattice of brass and glass veins, veins that carried both light and control, above the ignorant citizens blindly performing their parts.

  At my door, I paused. Everything seemed ordinary. I opened it carefully, stepped inside, and shut it quietly behind me. As I was going towards the living room, a sequence of knocks were heard from behind.

  Knock… pause… Knock, Knock, Knock… pause… Knock. The sequence confirmed our code, and I let out a quiet breath of relief.

  A man stood in the doorway: Steve. Black top-hat, cane in his left hand, confident stance. "May I enter? It's risky out here," he said, stepping in without waiting for approval. I barely registered it before closing the door behind him.

  He was already in my living room. His left hand gripped a cane, the right held papers. He stood with legs crossed, a smirk on his face. "The World Is Filled With Lies," he intoned, his voice poetic, deliberate. "If you start to mingle with the unknown, be prepared to put your life on the line. What I share now will mark the start of a new you. The old you… will become A Lie."