Portal Express

Leo stared at the chat message for a long minute, a nervous twitch starting in his left eye. He had two options. The first: ignore the message, block "Sephie-chan," and pray that the "underworld authorities" didn't have a good delivery service. He could try to live a normal life, pretending nothing had happened, until some shadowy collector came knocking on his door for the coin in his pocket. The second option: dive headfirst into this new level of madness, embracing his role as a delivery boy for the supernatural.

His finger hovered over the block button. He imagined a moment of blissful silence, followed by a lifetime of looking over his shoulder. The memory of his still-dangerously-low credit balance, and the fact that he now possessed a coin that made him a "visible target," made him hesitate. Maybe... maybe it was better to keep this divine client on his side. At least she paid well, and her missions didn't involve (so far) the risk of spontaneous combustion. It was a dangerous game, but for the first time in a long time, he felt like he had some control.

With a sigh of defeat, he typed a reply.

Leo: Where do I even find something like that?

The response was instant, as if she had been waiting with bated breath.

Sephie-chan: EHHHH? LEO-KUN REPLIED! (☆▽☆) I dunno! That's why I need you! You're my super awesome delivery guy from the surface world! But I heard there's a place where all the pop culture treasures end up... some kind of... um... 'Akashic Anime Archive'?

Leo frowned. "Akashic Anime Archive?" That made no sense at all. But one word sparked a memory. Treasures. Yuki. The woman who cooked with ingredients from other worlds would surely know about rare items.

He left his office and headed back to the dark alley in the Neon District. The paper lantern with the kanji for "Flavor" was still glowing with its warm light. He knocked three times.

The door slid open. Yuki was there, polishing a glass with a clean cloth. She raised an eyebrow when she saw him.

"Back so soon, newbie?" she said. "Don't tell me Ignis woke up already."

"No, no, he's asleep," Leo said quickly. "It's another client. She wants... uh... a limited edition light novel."

Yuki stopped polishing. Her gaze sharpened. "It's not an otaku goddess who lives in the Underworld, is it? Pink hair, addicted to snacks?"

Leo's jaw dropped. "How did you know?"

"Persephone is an old client," Yuki said with a sigh. "But I stopped taking her orders. Her 'emergencies' are trivial, and the rewards, while valuable, bring far too much unwanted attention." She looked at Leo with a mixture of pity and annoyance. "She gave you a Charon's Obol, didn't she? I can feel its glow on you. You're a beacon for anything that slithers in the shadows."

"Great," Leo muttered. "So, about this 'Akashic Anime Archive'..."

Yuki laughed, a rare, genuine sound. "Her and her dramatic names. She's talking about 'The Library That Isn't There.' It's not a physical place. It's a Domain. A pocket reality created by a maniacal collector, an Ink Mage. He collects stories. Literally. Steals them from reality and stores them in his personal library."

"So how do I get there?" Leo asked, feeling a new kind of headache forming.

"You don't. You get summoned," Yuki explained. "The Ink Mage sends out his 'librarians' to acquire stories he's missing. And to get in, you need an offering. A story he doesn't have." She paused, her eyes sizing him up. "Your story, that of a mundane delivery boy who suddenly starts serving gods and monsters... it's new. It's unique. It might just be valuable enough for him."

She walked to a shelf and took down a small, black business card with nothing written on it. "If you really want to do this, take this with you. Go to the central public library, to the 'Rare Books' section. Hold the card and think about your delivery to Ignis. Think about every terrifying detail. If your story is interesting enough, a librarian will come to you."

"And if it's not?"

"Then nothing happens. And Persephone doesn't get her book," Yuki said with a shrug. "Either way, get out of my kitchen. Your aura of trouble is ruining the ambiance."

Leo found himself back on the street, the black card in his hand. His life had become a series of bizarre errands. He went to the public library, an old, quiet building. In the rare books section, surrounded by the smell of old paper, he held the card and closed his eyes. The card felt strangely cool in his hand, absorbing his body heat.

He relived it all. The heat of the cavern, the thundering voice in his mind, the overwhelming fear, the sight of the dragon's gigantic eye. He focused on the feeling of the dragon's gaze, the taste of sulfur in the air, the weight of the ramen container in his trembling hands. He poured the memory, the story, into the card.

When he opened his eyes, the world had shifted. The dusty light of the library seemed dimmer, and the silence was deeper, more profound. The books on the shelves around him seemed to lean in, as if listening. A short, slender man was standing in front of him. He wore a grey suit and round glasses that magnified his curious eyes. He hadn't been there a second ago. He held a leather-bound book in one hand, which he snapped shut with a soft thud.

"Fascinating," the man said, his voice a dry whisper, like turning pages. "A fresh narrative. Raw, unwritten, full of potential. The Master will be pleased." He held out a pale hand, his fingers long and thin like a spider's legs. "My name is Calliope. I am a librarian. Please, come with me. We have much to discuss about the price of your story."