The old bookstore smelled of paper and dust, the shelves towering above like forgotten monuments to stories long untold. Daniel wandered through the aisles, his fingers trailing across the spines of books, feeling the weight of their histories. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just a quiet moment in the sea of words that filled this place. A small, worn book caught his eye—no title on the cover, only the initials "J.L." in faded gold. Something about it drew him in, and without a second thought, he pulled it from the shelf and opened it, letting the words carry him into another world.