Books are a bridge to knowledge. Books are records of the past, meant to be remembered. That was what Han Ye had always believed in his past life. But for the first time, he was afraid—afraid of a book that could drive its reader mad.

  What kind of book was this? It had to contain—

  “I told you not to even try, my son,” Han Zhe’s voice cut through Han Ye’s thoughts, sharp and filled with a rare, heavy seriousness. “Too many have fallen victim to this book. They thought they had unraveled all the secrets of the world.”

  Han Ye turned to his father, feeling a cold shiver creep down his spine. The way Han Zhe’s eyes darkened as he spoke made it clear that this was no ordinary book.

  "And when I heard you say that the nd we stand on is a pnet orbiting the sun—our sun, which is just a star among many—" Han Zhe took a deep breath before continuing, "I feared for a moment that my own son had already been tainted by this book’s knowledge. But it seems that is not the case.”

  Han Ye’s heart pounded in his chest. “What do you mean, Father? Is that not true?”

  Han Zhe’s expression remained unreadable. “Whether it is true or false does not matter. What matters is that knowledge such as this should not be grasped carelessly.” He tapped the box containing the book. "You must understand, Han Ye, this book does not just contain knowledge. It is knowledge. It whispers to those who read it. It makes them believe that they are no longer bound by ignorance, that they can see beyond the veil of reality. And that… that is how they fall.”

  Han Ye’s throat felt dry. His instincts told him to step back from the box. "Then why keep it, Father? If it’s so dangerous, shouldn’t we destroy it?"

  Han Zhe let out a low chuckle. "Destroying it? That would be the logical thing to do, wouldn’t it? But knowledge, no matter how cursed, has its uses." His gaze hardened. "That’s why I sealed it within this box. It is not something to be used lightly, but neither should it be lost forever."

  Han Ye frowned. He had read countless books before, but never had he heard of a book that could warp the mind itself. “Who wrote this book?” he asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

  Han Zhe exhaled slowly, his hand resting on the lid of the box as if debating whether to continue. Then, he finally answered, “No one knows. Some say it was written by a schor who glimpsed the forbidden truths of the world. Others say it is not the work of a human at all, but of an Outer Being—one whose very existence twists reality.”

  An Outer Being. Han Ye’s mind raced. He had heard the term before—beings that existed beyond mortal comprehension, creatures whose mere presence could distort the ws of the world.

  "If that were true," Han Ye hesitated, "then why would you, of all people, keep it?"

  Han Zhe’s lips curled into a grim smile. “Because knowledge is power, my son. But power without understanding is a curse. I keep it so that no one else will fall victim to it.”

  Han Ye looked at the book once more. It was old, its cover made of something that looked like leather but had a texture unlike any material he had ever seen before. The characters on the front were strange, almost shifting before his eyes.

  “Do you understand now, Han Ye?” Han Zhe’s voice was calm, but firm. “Some knowledge should not be sought. Some truths are not meant for mortals. This book… it is one of those truths.”

  Han Ye swallowed hard. His father had always been a strict but rational man. If even he feared this book, then Han Ye had no reason to doubt his warning.

  But deep inside, he felt a whisper.

  A faint, almost imperceptible pull.

  Curiosity.

  A small, treacherous part of his mind wanted to know why this book was so feared. What kind of knowledge could possibly drive a person insane? What secrets did it hold?

  Han Zhe seemed to notice his hesitation. His expression darkened. “Han Ye.”

  Han Ye quickly looked up, realizing he had been staring at the book for too long.

  “I will warn you only once,” Han Zhe said, his voice carrying an edge of finality. “You must never—never—open this book.”

  The warning sent a cold shiver down Han Ye’s spine.

  “…I understand, Father.”

  Han Zhe studied his son for a moment before finally nodding. "Good. Then we will speak no further of this matter." He turned away, his hand still resting on the sealed box. "Go. Get some rest."

  Han Ye hesitated for a second, then nodded. Without another word, he turned and left the room, his mind still swirling with questions.

  As he y in his bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, he tried to push the thoughts away.

  Tried to forget about the book.

  Tried to ignore the strange whispers that had almost called to him.

  But no matter how hard he tried, one thought refused to leave his mind.

  What knowledge could possibly be so dangerous… that it had to be sealed away?

  Han Zhe felt something strange about his son as he stared at the cursed book. Han Ye did not look at it with the thirst for knowledge, but with something darker, something deeper. His instincts screamed of the danger that lurked beneath.

  His grip on the box tightened. He had warned his son, yet there was a hesitation in Han Ye’s eyes that unsettled him. Han Zhe had seen this expression before—on schors who had fallen too deep into forbidden knowledge, on warriors who sought power beyond their limits, on cultists who had already lost themselves to madness.

  “Han Ye,” Han Zhe’s voice was firm, but there was a trace of concern beneath it. “Forget this book.”

  Han Ye blinked, as if breaking free from a trance. “I… understand, Father.”

  Lies.

  Han Zhe could see it in his son’s eyes—an ember of curiosity that had been ignited. It was small now, but left unchecked, it could grow into a fire that consumed him.

  Without another word, Han Zhe lifted the box and locked it inside a chest reinforced with sacred talismans. The paper shimmered faintly, forming invisible seals meant to suppress whatever foul influence the book held. He had done his duty. But his unease did not fade.

  As the night deepened, Han Ye y in his bed, staring at the wooden ceiling of his room. He tried to focus on his breathing, on the slow rise and fall of his chest, but his mind would not quiet.

  The book.

  What could be written in it that made his father so afraid? What knowledge could be so dangerous that it had to be sealed away?

  He turned onto his side, closing his eyes, forcing himself to sleep.

  But in the silence, he heard it.

  A whisper.

  At first, he thought it was the wind slipping through the cracks in the walls. But no—this was something else. The voice was neither male nor female, neither young nor old. It was a sound that seemed to come from deep within his own thoughts.

  You are different from them.

  Han Ye’s breath caught in his throat.

  You seek truth beyond what is given.

  His body felt frozen, his limbs heavy. He wanted to move, but something unseen held him in pce.

  You already know that the world is rger than what they tell you. You have seen glimpses of it in your past life.

  His past life.

  His vision blurred for a moment, fshes of memories he could not fully grasp flooding his mind. Books, science, knowledge from a world far beyond this one. His beliefs, his understanding—they were all remnants of something before his time here.

  The voice chuckled—an eerie, knowing sound.

  Come. Read. Understand.

  Han Ye’s eyes snapped open. His heart pounded wildly. His body was drenched in sweat.

  He sat up, breathing heavily, his fingers gripping the fabric of his bnket.

  It was just a dream.

  It had to be.

  But as his gaze drifted toward the door, his stomach twisted.

  Because he knew exactly where the book was.

  And for the first time, he wasn’t sure if he could resist its call.