The fading daylight filtered through the stained glass windows, casting distorted shapes on the crumbling walls of Arymh's old library. Isaac's footsteps echoed as he darted from one warped bookshelf to another, each frantic motion reflecting the turmoil within him. Every frantic rustle of ancient pages mirrored the guilt and self-reproach weighing him down.

"Where is it?" he muttered, throat dry as he rummaged through brittle tomes and yellowed scrolls. Dust motes swirled around him, briefly catching the light before fading into the gathering gloom. His mind whirled with desperation, each fragile hope snuffed out by the steady creep of despair.

"Isaac," came Kalim's quiet voice from behind, making Isaac pause. The concern in Kalim's eyes was clear. "You have to stop this," he urged gently.

"I can't... I need to find him," Isaac said, barely glancing up from the scattered books. His tone was grim, unyielding.

Kalim edged closer, resting a tentative hand on Isaac's trembling shoulder. "Isaac, this isn't your fault. We'll get Hidayat back, but you need to give yourself a break."

Isaac finally looked at him, and Kalim almost recoiled at the fierce light in the young man's eyes. There was a ruthless determination there, where once there had been kindness. "How can I rest," Isaac hissed, "when he's trapped in that nightmare of a Labyrinth—and it's all on me?"

Kalim tried to respond, but Isaac shook his head sharply. "Don't," he snapped, his voice cold and unfamiliar. "I have to do this, Kalim. Hidayat's fate rests on it. No matter the cost."

As Isaac returned to his feverish search, Kalim stood by, a mounting dread gnawing at him. The change in Isaac, from gentle empathy to this single-minded obsession, was both alarming and heartbreaking. It was as if the library's decaying walls mirrored Isaac's descent, each collapsing shelf a testament to how far he was prepared to go.

Kalim slipped back into the shadows, fear stirring in his chest for what lay ahead. Isaac's relentless pursuit of knowledge—of a way to rescue Hidayat—left him convinced that the boy he once knew was being consumed by an obsession from which he might never return.

The library's once-vibrant murals now loomed above Isaac like silent witnesses, their faded hues reflecting the gloom that had seized his heart. The flickering torchlight threw long, warped shadows across the rows of books and battered scrolls.

"I'll find him," Isaac vowed, his voice trembling yet strangely resolute. "I'll delve further into the Unreal Realm's secrets, gather the power I need to save Hidayat—and everyone else."

"Isaac, please," Kalim pleaded, genuine worry etched on his face. "This path... it could destroy you."

Isaac's only response was to continue thumbing through the fragile pages of an ancient text, his eyes glittering with unspoken determination. It was clear he'd weighed the risks and decided he'd do anything—pay any price—to gain the power to rescue Hidayat.

"Maybe," he murmured, almost to himself, "I need to become what they fear—a true anomaly, like Hidayat. Someone who can bend reality if that's what it takes." There was a raw hunger in his voice, threaded with fear of what he might become.

"Don't do this," Kalim implored, stepping closer. "Don't sacrifice your soul for power. There's always another way—a better way."

But Isaac's gaze was lost in the shifting shadows that danced across the battered walls. His hands shook slightly as he clutched an ancient tome, its cover marked with ominous symbols that seemed to pulse in the unsteady light.

"Power comes with a price," he whispered, barely audible. "And perhaps I'm willing to pay it to save Hidayat—to save all of us."

"Is it worth losing yourself?"

Silence weighed heavy between them until Isaac raised his head, his voice steady with conviction. "Whatever it takes."

The words reverberated in the stillness, a grim echo of Isaac's transformation. Kalim stepped back, unsettled by the change in the boy he once knew—a shift that felt irreversible. The library around them, its dust-laden shelves and broken arches, pressed in like a relentless warning of the darkness Isaac risked embracing.

Between the sagging shelves and crumbling masonry, Isaac's face looked paler than ever, his eyes shining with the fire of his desperation. "Isaac, please... you need to rest," Kalim coaxed, sounding both worried and weary.

"Rest won't bring Hidayat back," Isaac snapped, keeping his focus on the battered scroll he was studying. His fingertips brushed ancient lines of text, as though through sheer will he could force the words to yield their secrets.

"You won't get him back by destroying yourself," Kalim persisted gently. He paused, then added, "Or worse."

Isaac glanced up, and Kalim's heart twisted at the cold intensity in his stare. "I have no choice," Isaac said, his voice unnervingly calm. "Hidayat needs me. I won't fail him again."

"Every choice has consequences."

"Then I'll face them," Isaac replied, though his voice wavered slightly. "I can't leave him to his fate."

Kalim swallowed, dread pooling in his stomach. He remembered the boy Isaac had been—full of warmth and empathy, determined but kind. This Isaac, with eyes hardened by loss and guilt, felt almost like a stranger. "Hidayat's not the only one who needs you," he said softly. "We don't want to lose you as well."

Isaac's lips pressed into a tight line, a bitter hint of a smile flickering there. "Maybe the old Isaac was too weak," he murmured. Then, turning back to his fevered search, he let the conversation end. Kalim watched, helpless, as the boy sank further into his quest—an obsession that might devour him.

Deep in the library's gloom, Kalim's shadow stretched across the dusty floor. He looked on, a silent witness to Isaac's relentless efforts. The once-grand library, now in tatters, seemed to devour the boy's gentle spirit, luring him into the dark secrets it housed.

"Isaac," Kalim ventured quietly, standing amid the toppled books and decaying shelves, "I can sense the danger in what you're doing. Don't let it poison your heart."

Isaac paused for barely a moment, the flickering glow of a candle highlighting the hollows under his eyes. "I know exactly what I'm doing," he replied, voice tight.

Kalim's fear deepened. In Isaac's voice, he heard the tremor of uncertainty that betrayed his words. The library—this once-treasured archive of knowledge—had become a stage for Isaac's downward spiral, each secret drawing him further into the shadows.

"Power isn't everything," Kalim said, trying one last time. "Remember who you are."

Isaac closed his eyes briefly. "All I remember," he murmured, "is that I have to save Hidayat. Even if it means I lose myself."

Kalim's heart caught. "Isaac, please—"

"Don't," Isaac cut him off, his green eyes flashing. "I've made my choice." A shadow of sorrow passed across his features. "I'll do whatever it takes, Kalim. Even if it turns me into something monstrous."

His final words echoed in the deserted library, blending with the low creaks of the battered architecture. Kalim could only stand there, paralysed by the dread creeping through him. He realised that the boy he'd known might already be lost, consumed by the single-minded drive to rescue Hidayat.

And as Isaac retreated deeper into the library's dark corners, Kalim feared that what emerged from the ruins would be a stranger forged from desperation—a shadow of Isaac's gentle soul, twisted by the unrelenting force of his own determination.