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— But is it an alternate universe like the ones that appeared in some series, like Marvel Zombies? Or one that was never shown before?
Alice shook her head, brushing the thoughts away as if swatting at annoying flies.
— Never mind that. Just thinking about this whole mess makes my stomach growl. I'm hungry.
Suddenly, something made her stop mid-step. A strange sensation rippled through her body—a tingling that came from within, not from the skin. It was familiar, but in an uncomfortable way, like hearing a song you're certain you've heard before but can't remember where. She frowned, confused. She had never felt anything like this before… unless it wasn't her mind feeling it, but her body.
Wait… the body.
The memory came like an electric shock: in the world of Bibliomania, magic existed. And it was with a combination of technology and magic that the original Alice was sealed away before her departure. So this familiar sensation…
— It's magic — she murmured, the words escaping her lips like a revelation.
She walked out of the dark alleys and entered downtown New York. The city pulsed around her like a living organism. People came and went, all in a hurry, faces glued to phone screens or lost in private worries. The noise of honking horns, the smell of warm pretzels and exhaust fumes, the lights of billboards flashing even under the gray daylight—it all formed a chaotic symphony that Alice absorbed with new senses.
But she paid no attention to the crowd itself. Her eyes—now capable of seeing beyond the common veil—fixed themselves on something inside those people. A glow. A pulsing energy that danced within each body like a flickering flame, varying in intensity from person to person. In some, it was weak, almost extinguished. In others, it burned brightly, like a miniature furnace.
— So that would be the soul? — she asked quietly, to herself, her voice nearly swallowed by the city's noise.
She stood on the sidewalk for a moment, observing the flow of human lights. She thought, digging through the memories of the Marvel universe she had absorbed from the thug.
— As far as I remember, in the Marvel universe there's something called chi. Technically speaking, it's a type of life energy that every living being can use. You just need practice.
The gears in her mind turned, connecting pieces of information.
— So that's why my body felt familiarity. In the Bibliomania universe, magic also has a bit of life energy. Different systems, but the same root.
A new doubt sprouted, thorny and insistent.
— But… why couldn't I see that thug's soul?
She looked around. Busy streets, too many witnesses. Security cameras on every corner. She needed an empty place, away from prying eyes.
Alice walked a few blocks until she found an abandoned underground parking garage. The smell of mold and urine permeated the air. Fluorescent lamps flickered erratically, casting dancing shadows over cracked concrete. Perfect.
Curiosity pulsed in her chest like a second heartbeat.
— Book of Truth, open to the Masterful Knowledge page.
Suddenly, a book emerged from within Alice's skin. She felt the texture of the leather sliding out of her forearm as if it had always been there, dormant, waiting to be called. Strangely, it caused no pain at all—only a sense of fullness, like stretching a muscle that had been cramped for far too long.
Her eyes widened for a moment.
— That was… pretty strange. — She shook her head, trying to dismiss the surrealism of the moment. — But now let's get back to what matters.
She opened the book. The pages had a faint scent of ancient parchment, but the paper was immaculate, as if created in that very second.
---
Masterful Knowledge
People: 1
Description: This function shows how many humans the owner has absorbed. Humans absorbed directly by the user are worth less than those inside the book, because not all of their imagination has been revealed.
---
Alice processed the information, her eyes scanning the words with an analytical calm that wasn't entirely her own—but was already starting to feel natural.
— Got it. The copy of the Book of Truth is like a garden. Humans are the vegetables, and I'm the garden's owner.
She paused, her fingers drumming absently on the book's cover. Such a cold comparison for something so macabre. And yet, she felt no revulsion.
— But I think this single person will be enough for my question.
She stared at the book with intensity and asked, her voice echoing slightly in the empty garage:
— Masterful Knowledge, answer me: why couldn't I see the thief's soul, but I can see other people's?
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, letters began to appear inside the book, dancing across the page like organized ants. They traced words, phrases, entire paragraphs. After a few seconds, the dance ceased. The text was complete.
Alice began to read.
As her eyes traveled over the lines, an involuntary smile spread across her face. It wasn't a planned smile, a calculated one. It was instinctive. Joyful. Almost childlike.
---
Masterful Knowledge – Answer
The owner couldn't see the thief's soul because they didn't possess knowledge of what a soul was. After devouring the bandit, the owner gained the necessary knowledge to see souls. The more the owner absorbs, the more they will see. There will come a point where, with a single glance, the owner will see all the information about whatever they observe.
---
Alice closed the book slowly, letting the implications settle.
Then, like a lightning bolt, a thought surged in her mind. It wasn't a normal thought, the kind you consciously construct. It came from somewhere deep, automatic, like a primal instinct:
What if I absorbed all of New York?
She blinked, startled by herself. The thought had come with a terrifying naturalness, like someone considering what to have for dinner.
— That wouldn't work. — Her voice came out firmer than she felt. — Right now, I'm still pretty weak.
Another thought troubled her, this time conscious:
— Wait… why did I think that?
She ran a hand over her face, feeling the cold skin beneath her fingers. Genuine worry tightened her chest.
— I think this body is slowly messing with my mind.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the cold air of the parking garage filling her lungs. When she opened them again, there was renewed determination in her gaze.
— Leave that behind. Now that I know the more bad people I absorb, the more knowledge I gain about certain things… then, if I absorb a chi user, like Danny Rand—or as he's known, the Iron Fist—maybe I can manipulate chi to do incredible feats.
She dove deeper into her own reasoning, her eyes gleaming with a genuine enthusiasm that was purely Akira.
— Every living being has chi. And chi is life energy. So, with enough knowledge, I could absorb life energy too.
A pause.
— Actually, technically I can already do that.
Almost all the interest faded, replaced by a hint of boredom. But a little remained, stubborn.
— I'm still interested in whether I can use chi like Po from Kung Fu Panda. That would be pretty cool. And it would increase my power.
She sighed, returning to the reality of the dirty, cold parking garage.
— But now I need to find a way to gain knowledge. I'm not going to go around turning all of New York's people into information…
A brief hesitation.
— Maybe not.
— Book, open to the Hosting page.
The book that was in her hands began to float, hovering in front of her as if suspended by invisible threads. A soft breeze—which shouldn't exist in that enclosed space—made its pages ripple.
---
Hosting
Filled pages: 0
Do you wish to create a copy of the Book of Truth?
(Yes or No)
---
— Yes.
---
Creating… 25%… 50%… 75%… 100%
Creation complete.
---
Book of Truth (Copy)
Description: Anyone who touches the book will be teleported inside it, where they will meet the Great Serpent. She functions as a manager who makes contracts with the humans, organized in descending order from 666 to 1. Room 0 is the exit.
Capacity: 666
Property: Indestructible
---
Alice read the description with an arched eyebrow, an amused smile dancing on her lips.
— How cool. I wonder if it's the same serpent from the Bibliomania manga? — She tilted her head to the side, a curiously childlike gesture in contrast to her ancient eyes. — Book, how do I enter inside you?
"The owner must hold the book and wish to enter."
The words appeared in her mind, clear as a whisper.
Alice, quite excited—an excitement that was purely Akira, the otaku fulfilling the impossible dream of entering a magical item—held the book with both hands. She closed her eyes and focused on a single desire: to enter.
The sensation was like being pulled into a whirlpool of ink. The world around her dissolved into floating letters and characters, and she felt her body being sucked into the pages.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a room that resembled an elegant office, but with a surreal touch. Dark wooden bookshelves lined the walls, filled with books whose spines glowed softly. A polished mahogany desk occupied the center, and behind it, in a leather swivel chair, sat a serpent wearing a perfectly tailored suit. The snake had deep green scales and golden eyes that blinked with a newborn intelligence.
— It's exactly like the original Serpent from Bibliomania — Alice murmured, awestruck.
She thought for a moment, scratching her own cheek absently.
— So, technically, if I have Alice's body… he's my brother?
The serpent stared at her, clearly confused. His golden eyes darted back and forth, examining that creature different from himself. There was no hostility in his gaze, only raw curiosity, like a hatchling seeing the world for the first time.
Alice observed the reaction with an inward smile.
So it's as if he was just born. From what I can see, he must be curious. After all, these are his first moments of life. But since we're siblings, I'll have to show my superiority in the family tree.
The strange being before her did not speak. He only watched, fascinated by the place and by her. He tilted his head in a reptilian manner, his forked tongue occasionally tasting the air.
Suddenly, Alice began to change shape.
In a grotesque way.
Her body inflated. Cracks echoed through the room like snapping branches—the sound of bones rearranging, of flesh expanding. She grew, and grew, and grew—until she became a giant over a hundred meters tall. The ceiling, which had been a mere seven meters high, seemed to grow along with her, adapting to her new stature. The floor trembled under the colossal weight.
The Great Serpent felt something new. Something he didn't know, something that had no name in his limited vocabulary.
Fear.
His serpentine body trembled. His scales bristled involuntarily. He looked up at that immense being that blocked out all light, and he felt incredibly small. Insignificant. An ant before a god.
The giant raised her foot, as if to crush an insect. The shadow completely covered the Serpent, enveloping him in total darkness.
He closed his eyes, accepting his own death. His newborn mind didn't even know how to protest. He simply accepted.
But nothing happened.
The impact didn't come. The pain didn't come.
When the Serpent opened his eyes, trembling, that colossal being was staring intently at him. The giant's eyes were deep abysses, containing libraries of knowledge and power. A terrifying gaze, one that seemed to pierce his very essence.
And then, out of nowhere, the expression changed.
A smile.
It wasn't a cruel smile. It was warm, almost maternal—but with a hint of mischief that made it clear who was in charge.
— Little brother? — she said, her deep voice echoing off the walls of the room.
The Serpent blinked, dazed. His mind struggled to process what was happening.
— What is… little brother?
Alice thought quickly, her analytical mind working even in that monstrous form.
How can I put basic knowledge into his head? I have an idea.
She extended her hand—now immense, with fingers that looked like marble columns—and gently touched the Great Serpent's head. The contact was surprisingly delicate for something of that size.
A flow of information passed between them. Not personal memories, not deep secrets. Just the basics: language, understanding of the world, notions of right and wrong, and the complete understanding of his function in that place. The Serpent absorbed it all like a dry sponge, his golden eyes gleaming with a new spark of comprehension.
When Alice removed her hand, the Serpent blinked several times, processing the flood of data. Then, slowly, his reptilian expression softened into something that could be called recognition.
— Sister… — he whispered, his voice still hesitant, but now laden with meaning.
Alice smiled, satisfied. She gradually shrank in size, her body contorting and recomposing itself until she returned to the form of the pale girl in the dark dress. The floor stopped trembling. The room returned to normal proportions.
— That's right, little brother. — She affectionately ruffled the scales on the top of the Serpent's head, who accepted the gesture with a mixture of confusion and contentment. — We have a lot of work ahead of us.
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To be continued...
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