Dust motes danced in the single beam of Elena’s flashlight, illuminating towering shelves crammed with forgotten knowledge. The air in the subterranean chamber, a hidden annex beneath the New York Public Library, hung thick and heavy with the scent of aged paper and something faintly metallic – the ghost of alchemical experiments, perhaps? Elena ran a gloved hand along a shelf, pulling out a leather-bound volume with a spine so brittle it threatened to crumble at the slightest touch.