The Librarian Who Accidentally Raised the Seven Calamities Chapter 4: [4] The Silent Kingdom of Dust

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Six years. That's how long I'd been living in this oversized paper cage. By now, I'd learned two things: how to walk without tripping over my own shadow, and that being the "Ghost of the Library" was actually a pretty sweet gig if you liked avoiding family dinners. I was six, I had white hair that made me look like a tiny, stressed-out accountant, and I hadn't said a single word to anyone. Mostly because the System liked to play "Silence is Golden," but also because, honestly, what was I going to say? "Hey Dad, the soup is cold and your parenting is worse?" I sat at my desk, watching the dust motes. In this light, they looked like tiny stars. In reality, they were just dead skin cells and old paper. 'System, can we get some fresh air in here? It smells like a tomb's basement.' [Dust Reading (Passive): High-density, annoying mana detected at the door.] 'Annoying mana? That's new.' The door didn't open; it exploded inward. Elias, my third brother, stomped in looking like he'd just lost a fight with a lightning bolt. His hair was sticking up in three different directions and his face was a very unhealthy shade of purple. "Still here, you mute freak?" he snapped. He slammed a glowing scroll onto my desk. "Father says you're some kind of 'genius of silence.' Fine. Read this. It's an ancient teleportation theory from the Second Era. If you're so smart, tell me why the ink is screaming." 'The ink is screaming because your breath smells like onions, Elias.' I didn't move. I just stared at the scroll. To Elias, I probably looked like a terrifying, cold-eyed master of the dark arts. In reality, I was just wondering if I could use the heat from his glowing scroll to toast the stale bread Elias had left on the corner of the table. 'Ink-Sight.' The world didn't turn dark and edgy. Instead, the red ink on the scroll started to wiggle like a bunch of angry worms. [Object: Unstable Teleportation Scroll (High Failure Rate)] [Status: About to blow your brother's eyebrows off.] 'Oh. That's not good.' Elias leaned in, his face inches from mine. "Well? Nothing to say? As usual." The scroll began to hum—a high-pitched, vibrating sound that made my teeth ache. The mana was leaking, swirling around Elias's fingers like angry wasps. 'Okay, I don't like you, Elias, but I don't want to clean your blood off my favorite rug.' I reached out. I didn't do anything "epic." I just tapped the scroll with my index finger, intending to push it away. The Archive reacted. It didn't send out a wave of darkness; it just... sighed. A tiny puff of dust rose from the desk. It wasn't a storm. It was more like someone had flicked a dusty pillow. But the moment that dust touched the scroll's mana, the "wasps" didn't just stop. They got bored. The glowing red ink turned grey. The vibration stopped so fast it left a ringing in the air. The scroll just... died. Elias stared at the scroll. Then he looked at my finger. Then back at the scroll. "You..." his voice went up an octave. "You just... neutralized a Seventh-Tier Mana Loop? With a tap?" 'I just thought it was loud, dude. Relax.' Elias backed away, nearly tripping over his own cloak. To him, I wasn't his "useless" brother anymore. I was a monster hiding in a child's skin. "You're... you're not human," he whispered, his eyes wide with a mix of terror and something that looked a lot like he was about to cry. He turned and bolted out of the room, leaving his expensive scroll behind. 'Great. Now he's going to tell Dad.' [System Notification: Synchronization 12%] [Skill Learned: 'Boredom of the Archive' (Passive)] 'Boredom? Seriously? Damn it. Even my skills are making fun of me now...' I picked up the "dead" scroll. It was cool to the touch now. Perfect. I used it to prop up the short leg of my desk. Finally. Level ground.